Journalist By Nature: Beargrass Fantasy Land

Feeling the need for an extra workout I joined the Tuesday hiking crew, some of who are training for the Glacier National Park Sperry Chalet hike. That hike is nearly seven miles with an elevation gain of 3300 feet. Our hike this day was from Barlow Pass Trail to Timberline Lodge, a five mile calf stretcher rising about 1800 feet. The trail is uphill all the way.

After dropping a car at the Lodge we rumbled down the mountain to the Barlow Pass Trail and were deposited at the trailhead by a friendly husband in his pickup truck. Crossing treacherous Highway 26 we dove into the forest and were immediately greeted by tall, bushy heads of beargrass. On most hikes at and above the 5000 foot level we have seen occasional small clumps of this lily family plant, white fluffy plumes topping a flopping spray of grass-like leaves. But today's scene was an overwhelming display of these beauties towering above their normal 36 inch height to four and five feet! Everywhere we gazed the understory was littered with white mop heads. These luminaries were echoed by tiny white wildflowers near the ground and foot-lighted by clumps of blue lupine. Nature's bouquets!

Taking the early gradual slope through timbered acres we scooted and slid over the frequent downed trees blocking the trail. A quietly padded surface muffled our footsteps so we could easily hear birds of many types sending their chit chits, tweets and caw-clicks through the air. Salal, Oregon grape, ferns and oxalis overspread the lower level while evergreens primarily populated the upper story. A clear blue sky overhead portended rising temperatures but we were comfortable for the time being.

The continuously uphill grade gradually warmed us and we began to shed layers of clothing as we stopped to sip our water and take in the marvelous sight surrounding us. Beargrass stalks by the thousands dotted our view as far as we could see in the open forest. Not much else captured our attention and it was one of those scenes where you couldn't take enough pictures to truly see the effect.

About halfway up the trail the slope began to get steeper and more clothing was packed away. The occasional descending hiker passed us looking much cooler than we who were ascending. Nearing the top of the tree line the trail turned to ash and sand mixed with needle drop. The temperature was rising more and the shade thinning. Winding out of the forest completely, the trail left the mini-forest of beargrass behind and now found four-petaled cat's paw (mariposa lily), bright red Indian paintbrush, violet alpine lupine and purple penstemmon. Stems of emerging pink coralroot began to appear as well as pools of bright pink phlox amid the dry, sandy soil. A far-away view of our destination appeared across a great canyon where a tiny stream of melted glacier water trickled around boulders and stones at the bottom. We would have to hike to and over the canyon head to finish the hike.

Tiny at the center: Timberline Lodge

The overhead sun beat down on our shoulders as we rationed our water supply and kept trudging forward, sharply upward along a now slipping sandy trail. It was like walking up a sand dune, one step up, slide back a half step. The teasing sound of a waterfall, another glacier-fed stream that flushes down the White River Canyon to the east, made us feel even more thirsty. Pausing in any tiny amount of shade cast by the occasional short alpine tree, we cooled a bit before continuing. The patches of remaining snow on Mt. Hood lay mocking our heated state as we made our way along the grey desert of the treeless lower slopes.

Following the trail markers, wooden beams propped in a pile of stones, we curved toward the edge of the deep ravine whose edges were slipping down its sides. The distance to our goal seemed to never shorten as we descended into the heat of the canyon's maw. Like foreign legion soldiers crossing a desert, heads covered with drooping hats and tee shirts, we trudged down a narrow path, mindful of the tiny rocks occasionally rolling down the slopes as a reminder that the larger boulders could give way at any time. Reaching the barely trickling stream at the bottom and wanting to stop and soak our feet and hands, we instead found footing on damp stones and headed up the final, scorching climb. Mt. Jefferson stood miles to the south, snow-topped and looking like a floating bowl of ice cream above the blues of the distant hills.

Mt. Jefferson near Bend

Reaching the top of the other side of the canyon we had to continue climbing on a less demanding grade to find the final approach to the Lodge. One hiker developed a debilitating shoulder muscle spasm that stopped her in her tracks. Additional, worrisome symptoms began to present themselves and we worked to help her regain strength and focus to finish the hike. At last ready to continue, one hiker shouldered the extra pack and others kept a close eye on the "patient". We arrived at the back patio of the Lodge, hot, dusty and very ready to order cool drinks and lunch at the Rams Head Bar. Replenished and renewed, we stood on the front porch of Timberline Lodge, taking in the expansive blue and green views in all directions, once again thankful to have the Pacific Northwest forests, lakes and mountains at our doorstep. There's a hike out there waiting for you too!