Journalist By Nature: Transitioning to Trails

May Day. The long-awaited season had arrived. Hiking friends wrapped up their snow birding times, others were off to tropical climes but six of us slung our backpacks on and headed for the mountains. Finally. And what a day for hill work it was. Valley temperatures were heading for the high 80's again so it was a perfect time to transition to the Mt. Hood trails where cool breezes would rustle the fir boughs and tumbling water from the melting glaciers would sing down the slopes. Mirror Lake was our destination, a short 3 miler in and out. Snow had retreated from the roadside in the unseasonable heat so we were reasonably certain the trail would be open. Chatting up a fellow hiker, we heard that just the day before the trail was crowded with people anxious to get out of the city and into the hills. Today we had the trail to the lake to ourselves!

Pure white trilliums greeted us as we crossed the bridge at the trailhead. They were few in number but loud in their welcome to the awakening forest, long slumbering under a thick blanket of chilling snow but now stretching so as to shake the long winter night from its limbs. Grasses and underbrush were lying flat against the damp earth after months of pressing snowdrifts. Small soft tips were beginning to swell on shrubbery.

As we ascended the trail, muddy spots began to appear and occasional patches of snow could be seen in shady areas. The steady rise of 700 feet over one and a half miles was a pleasant leg stretcher in contrast to the relatively flat city walks we had been taking all winter. The warm air played through the towering trees, making its own special forest music. Birds happily chirped their locations to one another as they played tag in the treetops. One tiny crop of yellow buttercup-like flowers gaily waved as we passed by.

As we neared the elevation of Mirror Lake the trail became more and more submerged in icy, slushy melting snow so that we had to walk over it rather than around it now. Slipping and sliding along, we were admonished by a sign to "stay on the trail", which seemed humorous as the trail disappeared more and more the farther we walked around the lake. Previous hikers had muddied and packed parts of the snowpack in an attempt to find the route either around the lake or up to the Tom, Dick and Harry peak, but the actual trail was less and less obvious. The clincher for us was the clear cougar paw print in the snow, large and deep enough to indicate a heavy cat. We gathered our group tightly together and made for the open stairway to the lake, mindful of golden-green eyes that might be watching us.

Taking a snack break, we absorbed the beauty of Mt. Hood standing silently above the lake, mantled in a heavy coat of snow. There was no picturesque reflection in the lake today as the water was a large sheet of ice from edge to edge. We explored the plank walkway over a marshy area, but even that was a short trip as the boardwalk disappeared under many feet of snow. Movement in the melting water showed that the lake was waking up. Pussy willows were breaking out of their husks to reveal velvety soft orbs for which they are named. Magenta leaves of a ground cover were providing a pleasant dash of color to the otherwise brown landscape.

Other hikers began to appear at the lake so we decided it was time to return to our vehicle and wrap up the day. The downhill trip was made bearable for me with the aid of Rock Tape, lessening the knee pain that shut down my hiking season last fall. A short trip to Govy brought us to Mount Hood Brewing Company and deck dining below the snowscape of the mountain. All in all, it was a good day to visit the forest and face the challenges of a new season of explorations. Plan your trip to a trail soon as the days of spring and summer will fly by. Welcome back to the woods!