Three Sisters: 50 miles, 3 nights, 4 burly humans

I woke up at dawn today, still in sync with mother nature's rhythm from the backcountry. I hobbled down the stairs to make my coffee and greet my garden. My feet look like I dipped them in a pot of hot acid (fucking blisters) and my mind is on stimulation overload from all the man-made hustle. It's amazing what a few days 'unplugged' will do for the mind.

A 50 mile loop in 4 days around the base of three magnificent volcanoes in the Three Sisters Wilderness in central Oregon. The four of us set off on the first day from Portland. 6am! We planned the night before. 9:30 rolls around and I'm having my second french press coffee and a bagel, waiting for the crew to get their shit in order.

Due to inevitable miscommunications and obvious coffee breaks, we hit the trailhead around 3pm--needing to huck 12+ miles before sundown. Heads down we trucked into the 'burnzone' on the east side of las hermanas. Apparently there was a huge fire here last year, so all the water-sources marked on my trusty map had dried up. We were in a pickle, cruisin at 20min miles, takin no breaks, trudging and trudging trying to find a creek to camp by. To no avail--we set up camp in the dark in a pile of ash and nibbled on cold pop-tarts before collapsing into our tents.

 

 Dawn brought a new light. Although we were all itchin for some coffee...we ate a few power-bars, rolled a few spliffs and set off at first light--ready to charge 15+ miles and get the fuck out of this burnzone.

 3pm: We had hot lunch at Green Lakes--oriental flavored top-ramen and three cups of coffee. We all took a nap under the alpine sun and soaked our feet in the glacier melt. It was glorious. Only 5 more miles to go for the day!

 I don't even remember setting up camp that night at Moraine Lake because I was so delirious from blister pain and pure exhaustion. Me and Jesse fell asleep giggling with altitude-fuzzied brains before sundown. I woke up to this scene--the pup Isabel tryin to play fetch and the South Sister basking in her morning alpine glow.

 We joined with the Pacific Crest Trail this morning and wove our way through Doug-Fir forests and alpine meadows. Each of us in the groove of truckin, chattin, eatin, and laughing. I love the way the wilderness sluffs off pretense and rubs people into a clan of sorts.

We cut out early and set up camp at Reese Lake because it was too good to be true. All alone at this crystal clear lake with the South Sister towering over-us--her crater echoing power. We laid in the meadows reading, swam in the lake, built a fire, and gazed at the stars.

 Dawn on our last morning. We knew it was gonna be a tough day because we didn't meet our expected mileage the day before. 6am. 13 miles togo. 4 humans and a pup in rough shape--held together by spliffs, advil, and duct tape. We set off in silence for the last, most beautiful leg of our trip.

Jesse feelin it ALL

 At the top of Opie Pass. These volcanoes make for such desolate landscapes. I felt like I was knocking on the gates of Mordor trudging up those switchbacks.

Las Hermanas

The North and Middle Sisters

Map questin

  We all felt like we had tested our limits with this hike. I love the feeling of getting my ass kicked by mother nature. Placing one foot in front of the other up and down mountain passes, through pain, sunshine, and rain is humbling---it quiets the soul from all the menial bullshit of day-to-day life. It puts in perspective the reality we humans create and prioritize beyond the power of nature.

Keep Portland Weird

• ·      If you resemble any character from reality bites, especially Ethan Hawk, you’re nailing it (androgyny is in). 
• ·      If you don’t have compost in which you use chicken shit from your very own free-range flock, you are a worthless human being—living in an apartment is no excuse, petition for a communal chicken coop in the complex.
• ·      If you didn’t buy your entire outfit from a vintage shop or from good will, you are capitalist degenerate (everyone in urban outfitters perusing the sale bins has a hood and Jackie-O glasses on out of shame, unless they go to PSU in which case they should pursue work as real-life urban-outfitters mannequins)
• ·      Somehow you are supposed to be super into veganism while also well-versed in the plethora of tasty meat products Portland has to offer—Im still trying to figure out this contradiction.
• ·      People don’t read fiction here— they only read the Kurt Vonnegut, Malcolm Gladwell, or The New Yorker. That’s it.
• ·      Only tourists like voodoo doughnuts
• ·      You’ve gotta have some sort of creative endeavor happening to get respect. Sure, most 20-somethings are plugging away as servers or baristas, but they are all gushing at the spit to tell you about their side-projects—a kombucha startup, their pottery, freelance illustration, ultra-running, yoga-teaching, dream-catcher weaving, good lord don’t get me started on the bands, oh the bands.
• ·      On that note, if you live here and you don’t play a musical instrument, you better have a damn good reason why not.
• ·      According to my ‘what is sexy’ barometer, if PDX could vote for sexiest man alive, it would hands down be Devendra Banhart. From what I can tell, he is the epitome of what men and women find attractive here. As for the ladies category, still searching.
• ·      This is the only city in which rain-gear can be sheek.
• ·      If you live downtown, you’re an asshole. Come to the eastside and relax a little.
• ·      When the sun is out, having conversations about the sun being out never gets old.
• ·      People judge you by your loyalty to local coffee roasters…….and IPAs.
• ·      Don’t ever play dubstep here. Just don’t. Portland took a far away look at the debauchery happening in Colorado a few years ago, and said no thanks we’ll stick to indie-rock.
• ·      If you don’t ride your fixie to work, you better be taking an alternative form of public transportation you selfish gas-guzzling-sonofabitch.
• ·      I figure it a nod to portland’s heritage that flannel and beards will never be out of style in stumptown.
• ·      Oh my, the beards! The oliver peoples style glasses! The sheek-grunginess! Portland looks like a Wes Anderson movie, with way more tattoos. And yes that is the best compliment any Portlander could ever hear about their city. 

Ima keep exploring this eclectic town and will update with more cunning idiosyncrasies later.

Minor Cause

 

Minor Cause from rainbowstraut on 8tracks Radio.

A reflection of the melange in nature's moods during this season between freeze & fall.