I had wanted to do this as a great epic with lots of research, planning, preparation and then the epic five-day struggle of man around the mountain. Instead I was driven back by inadequate research, poor execution, and an inch square rash in a very sensitive place.

My goal is to do an exploratory adventure every year. In 2000 it was the Wallowas. Last year it was a solo backpack into Paradise Park on Mt. Hood. So this year I set my sights on an epic adventure; the Timberline Trail. This would have been a 40-mile progressive backpack around the mountain. This also fits into one of my life goals. So I did a little research and found a book published by "Lolits". Lolits is an acronym for "little old ladies in tennis shoes" and accurately describes the two authors. It had a lot of information about the trail. I also have the program "Topo!" on my computer to make topographic maps. Unfortunately these computer maps are based on the USGS topographic maps (probably some old ones) and have all their failings. And I had my own experience with backpacking because the Paradise Park trail is part of this loop. I had also done day hikes and backpacks on other parts of this trail.

So with much excitement and anxiety I started the trail on Thursday. I planned to leave at the end of rush hour, but I managed to get to Timberline Lodge at 1100PDT. This was about 2 hours after I had planned to start. I noticed a small drip of water and checked my hydration bag. Unfortunately the drinking tube was not correctly attached and I ended up spilling about a liter of water into my pack. I refilled by bag and started off at about 1120PDT.

Between Timberline Lodge and Ramona Falls the Timberline Trail (Trail 600) is on the same path as the Pacific Crest Trail (Trail 2000). I hiked past Timberline lodge and through the mix of high alpine meadows and forest. I hiked on toward the west or clockwise around the mountain. I passed a trail as expected and went down into Little ZigZag canyon. On the west rim of this canyon I met a wilderness steward and her son who were doing a survey for the University of Idaho. It was a questionnaire about your wilderness experience. I declined to answer, since I was late already, and continued on. But I chatted with her as I filled out my wilderness permit. One person, four nights. From here I continued to the south rim of ZigZag canyon.

ZigZag canyon looks immense from the rim. The dark fortress of Mississippi Head glares down ominously on the steep sandy sides and rushing river. But the trail down the south side of the canyon is through trees with many small springs seeping water that trickles across the trail. Nice and shady and cool. I stopped at the bottom and had my lunch with a couple from Massachusetts who were doing a day hike of the Paradise Park loop. While I ate I walked along the edge of the river to plan how I would cross.

I only got my boots slightly wet as I crossed the river. I then started plodding upward looking for the junction of the Pacific Crest Trail (Trail 2000) with the Paradise Park Loop (Trail 757). I found this and continued around and up on the PCT. Soon I passed the Paradise Park trail (Trail 778) itself. (It comes up from Government Camp.) At this point I crossed into the unknown and should have expected problems. All of the maps I carried neglected to show the PCT correctly. In one sense I was walking off the map.

But a bigger issue at the moment was drinking water. I had just sucked the last gasping sip of water from the bag and needed to refill. This was not a problem because I had packed my water filter pump on top of my pack for easy access. Water is one of the heaviest things I carry, so if I can pump water regularly I can carry less and stop more. Fortunately I came to a nice creek about a mile down the trail. I have figured from the map that this was Lost Creek and I was about 800 feet below where the map showed the trail through Paradise Park. I stopped and filled my reservoir with water and had a snack. It was about 1500PDT.

I blithely donned my heavy pack and continued up the trail. A little further on I was stunned with a view of a spectacular canyon. And a conundrum. My assumption was that I was still on the mapped trail. If that was correct I was looking at the Sandy River canyon, a big canyon. This was a big canyon, so the trail should be back to my left. But the trail goes into the canyon to my right. What is this? I explore to my left and down and the meager trail here peters out into the remains of a campsite. I should be going down and southwest, not east into this canyon. So I find a trail that goes down and take it. It goes down hill. I am happy. Sort of.

Soon I recognize sights I have seen before. A large cubical rock, a certain stream. Oh damn, I’m going backwards! I turn and start back up. The trail into the canyon is my only option. Here I fortunately meet another ‘round the mountain hiker. He tells me that the trail into the canyon is correct and starts to go down hill soon after you get back into the woods on the other side. I am relieved and push on. Down the narrow trail across a steep slope of loose sand. Turn at the end past a waterfall, then back up hill and into the woods. Soon I even pass the Paradise Park Loop trail (Trail 757). I am back on the map but it is now 1600PDT and I am starting to get hungry.

But I am back on track. The ground is sandy and I go through fields of huckleberries that are head high. I even stop to take a picture of Mt. Hood. Down I continue for there is no place here for camp or water. And my body hurts, mostly my back, but there is also a strange feeling between my legs. But I have no choice but to continue. My alarm sounds 1630PDT so I stop for a short snack of dried cranberries and the last of my water. At about 1720PDT I am staggering down the trail through the woods and meet two hikers. "How far is Ramona Falls?" I ask. "We left there at four thirty." About an hour ago and about an hour to go. I thank them and stagger on.

I expected my trail to tread along Rushing Water Creek for a ways before it reaches the Sandy River. This is the same creek whose upper canyon I was confused at. I finally see the creek and it is beautiful clear rushing water. There are even some campsites, but most are too far off the trail. I also hear louder rushing water over the babble of this creek. There! The forest opens up and I am at the Sandy River. It is 1800PDT, six in the evening.

I am exhausted. I look at the river and my heart sinks. Glacier fed rivers are notoriously wild after a day of sun has swelled their flow. The Sandy is a good example of that. The muddy water rushes by over rocks with tremendous energy. This river will not be waded. I see some small tree trunks across a couple of places, but they are too fragile for me. I look upstream and see some orange surveyor’s tape on both sides of the river. There are two logs together there, but it is 50 meters away over large boulders to get there. With my heavy pack and my aches and pains I struggle over the boulders carefully because I am so tired. After 10 minutes I am looking at the crossing.

My fear goes up. These logs are only about 7 inches in diameter. Dear God, that seems so thin. But there is no water here that I can drink and no place to camp. I must cross. So I gingerly step onto the rock and then onto the logs. So far so good, but I still pray. I start to lift my left foot. In an instant my balance is shattered, my boot has caught one of the limb stubs. I quickly compensate and disaster is averted. I take a breath and gently move on. One foot at a time, left then right. I am inching closer. Finally I am there, it is over but my legs are shivering. Dear God, I can’t continue.

But I must continue. I must have water and the Sandy is too muddy to filter. I travel down a rough trail, probably done after the spring floods have settled. Soon I am headed back east and up. I see other people heading this way, I think I hear voices in the woods. I stumble on.

Finally I have had enough. I drop my pack and scout ahead. Each step feels like the hair between my legs is being ripped off, like my underwear is rubbing gravel against my skin. Up and down until I hear the faint sound of water. There are people here, but where can I camp? I walk back and get my pack then stagger back to Ramona Falls, then up a little side trail until I see a fire ring containing ashes. I struggle over a downed tree but get to drop my pack for the last time today. I am at camp. It is 1900PDT and sunset is only an hour away.

My day is not done. I need to set up the tent, get water and make dinner. But first water. I open my pack and start spewing things out. I need my pot, my pump, my bag and my sit pad. With those tools I stagger back to the falls. I pump water to fill up my bag and sit and think. I even drink some of the water, which helps me go on. I only fill the bag and then I dip the pot into the stream to fill it. This water will be boiled so filtering is not necessary. I stagger back to camp.

I get the stove out and try to light it. But two of my lighters are damp and won’t work. Finally one works and the water is heating. But I have no appetite. I stand and stare. I want to lay down and sleep but there is no place yet. I am overwhelmed. But I stagger over and begin setting up my tent. It is mostly up when the water boils. I have to stop and rummage through my pack to find the soup and a bagel, my mug and my thermal bottle. I have to empty the stored stuff out of both. Finally I get the soup into the mug and the rest of the water into the bottle. I finish setting up the tent and get my pads and bag in. It is dark. I search for my headlamp. Then I stop and stare. I am overwhelmed. I need to sleep. My cortisone is dangerously low but more now would restart my day and I would not sleep. I hurt. I am cold. I get control of my thoughts and sit on my pad and stir my soup. I dip the bagel in and eat some. I put my hat on and my vest. I think of what next. Get set for bed, get the food hung in that tree over there, get all the other gear in the pack and under the pack cover. Did I feel rain? No, but I better hurry anyway.

I have put all thoughts of tomorrow off until then. I gather up the dispersed food packages into the stuff sack and grab the plastic grocery bag that is my trash can. I grab my carabiner and short sling and toss the sling over the tree branch. Once I clip the bags in I see that it is too low for a bear not to get. Tough. Keeping the little critters out will have to do tonight. I finish my soup and stow the mug in the trash bag. I get my spare underwear and warm clothes into the tent with my first aid kit and hygiene kit. The hygiene kit has a mirror that will allow me to check my crotch to see what is wrong there. My candle lantern is lit and placed by my tent. I have most of my water bag to drink tonight and if necessary the hot water will cool after I get enough to wash my face and legs. Everything else, including the cooled stove is stored by my pack under the rain cover.

I get into the tent but still have work to do. My clothes must be changed. I struggle through that on my back or sitting since the tent is really low. The clothing bag is wet from the water bag accident at Timberline. But the polyester will dry quickly on my body. Finally I wet my washcloth from the bottle, but the water was still too hot. I let the cloth cool for a second and wiped my face. Then I put more water on and wiped the trail dust off of each leg. Even with new underwear my sore spot still hurt, so I folded my pack towel and shove it down between my legs to keep things from rubbing. It seemed to work. With everything finally ready I lay down to sleep. But it was too warm, so I opened the sleeping bag and spread it above me. I blew out the candle. It was 2130PDT.

I slept amazingly well. I even had a dream. I also did not drink as much as I normally do during the night and several times when I woke up I needed to stretch my legs the best I could while laying down. I once awoke hungry and ate an energy bar. I woke at about 0630PDT and started preparing to get up. First came first aid. I got the mirror out of one bag and a pad out of my first aid kit, only to find another mirror there. I tried to look at myself with the flashlight and the mirror but could see little but a dark spot. The worst news was that the pack towel had stuck to the wound when I went to pull it off. So my decision was made. I’m out of here.

I knew from my Wilderness Steward Training that the Ramona Falls trail is very popular. They also try to station Wilderness Stewards there as often as possible, and since this is the start of Labor Day weekend the odds are in my favor. If I find a steward I can ask them to get on the radio and have a Forest Service person drive me from the trailhead back to Timberline. Or perhaps the stewards are only in for the day and at the end could drive me up to Timberline. Worst case is that I hike the 10 miles to the ZigZag ranger station and beg for a ride there.

So I start to pack up. But I am still a bit rummy. I realize now I should have gotten the ibuprofen last night. Now will have to do. I get water from the stream and start the stove. While that heated I took the food bag down. I also put on my fleece top and pants, but the light breeze still chills me. So I wrap the pack cover around my shoulders. My water finally boiled so I made my tea and oatmeal and went back to packing the tent while they cooled. But I was still sluggish. At 0730PDT my alarm went off and I paused to check my oats. They were still too warm but felt good in my hands, so I sat and started to work on breakfast. I ate a little oats and then tried to take my medications but ended up with a mouthful of pills and had to get a drink of water. (Eight pills at once.) I ate more and seemed to get more life in me. I stirred my tea and noticed the dregs of the soup from the night before. Ah yes, the wonderful taste of chicken noodle onion orange spice tea. It was still too hot, but I did finish it later.

I took the tent down and stowed my sleeping bag and pads. I also sat and went through my food bag and set up a tuna salad kit and a raisin bagel in my box with a packet of peanut butter. (I still think this was my best idea of the whole trip. Packing my lunch ahead of time.) Several of my neighbors also strolled past on their way to the falls. One even offered my some first aid cream for my sore. Unfortunately it was burn cream. I also took the now cool water in the thermal bottle and added a container of sports drink. (I should have done that yesterday.)

Finally, at nine in the morning, I was almost ready to go. I needed to fill up my water bag. So I amble down to the stream with my pump and my bag and my pad. I pumped a full supply and walked back. Halfway to my pack I realized that the pad was still at the stream. Since I had to go that way anyway, I struggled into my pack and headed down the trail after one last look to see that nothing was left behind.

When I got back to the stream, actually the bridge across it, there was a woman there taking a picture of herself on the bridge. I got my pad and asked her to help me attach it to my pack. We chatted for a bit and I learned that she is a PCT through hiker on her way to Canada. On the west end of the bridge I was surprised to see that the Timberline Trail was right there. Neither of my maps showed that. I had expected to walk 3 miles toward the parking lot even if I was going to continue. She had pulled the appropriate pages out of that particular guidebook and showed me the local page. The trail was totally different from what I had originally planned.

After wishing each other luck the hiker lady zoomed on ahead and I was soon left trudging along. On this side I was soon walking near large shear cliffs that rose probably 200 feet beside me. But I also walked along the nice little stream from the falls as in flowed along, undercutting much of the opposite bank. I felt better, but still had enough of a twinge to realize I was doing the right thing.

I met several people on the way out and I asked them if they had seen a Wilderness Steward yet. None had. I passed through the wilderness boundary and then took the Portage Trail toward the trailhead. At 1100PDT and about a mile from the trailhead I ran into two stewards, Ann and Maggie. I spotted them because of their radio and nametags. I introduced myself and told them my tale of woe. They go on the radio and asked my question. Yes, one of the Forest Service trucks would be near here soon installing a sign and he would be happy to help a former steward down on his luck. He would meet me at the trailhead.

So I staggered onward, finally getting to the trailhead at 1130PDT. Since he wasn’t there yet I ate lunch and drank my sports drink. I also figured I could help by picking up the trash some fool had dumped there. My ride showed up at noon and we went off to install the sign before he finally drove me up to Timberline.

Denouement:

I did get home safely and so had the chance to write this. The weather was wonderful for the rest of the weekend and that makes me really annoyed at my fate. My rash is probably some form of Ceratocysis ulmi, but is responding to the usual over-the-counter anti-fungals I use. The Forest Service representative and I talked much about the quality of the maps and what we could do about it. Your scheming, nefarious author will most likely put his networking skills to work to amass an army of volunteers to hike the trails to get GPS data for use in updates. But that will be next summers job. In the mean time I will update my maps, sharpen my skills and my wits and try this again next year.