Timberline Lodge Snowshoe Adventure

Timberline Lodge Snowshoe Adventure

So this is what you do. On Tuesdays and Thursdays every week skip that Starbucks(R) Grande Soy Latte and once a month put the resultant saved $40 in a jar. Then, once a year, take the $480 and buy yourself and your lover a romantic adventure weekend (or week night) at Timberline lodge. You will love the experience and you will look great in the ultra luxurious shower in your Fireplace King Bedroom missing that extra 10 pounds I just saved you by forgoing the lattes.

Here is why I think this is a good idea:

We got started a little later than we originally planned, but it was my birthday and we were determined not to rush. We rolled out of Portland on Sunday early afternoon just around 11:00. There had not been much snow up on Mt. Hood this year, but we had a storm go through in the last couple of weeks with additional fresh snow last night. So I was hoping that there would be good ground cover for some snowshoeing. The weather report was a little mixed. Some saying sun. Some saying rain. Dang weather guys. 50% chance of them giving you a weather report that has meaning. Like, what is the difference between partly cloudy and partly sunny? Is it just your attitude?

Anyway, I think we had missed all of the traffic going up the mountain, but there sure were a lot of people up there when we arrived. Timberline snowpark was full (big electric signs assured us) and the parking lots for Snow Bunny and Trillium lake appeared to be full. But we were going to a little less traveled trail. We were headed for where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses the Barlow trail. You probably know all about the Pacific Crest Trail, it has received a lot of publicity lately. I believe there is a movie in the making, but perhaps you don't know about Barlow. The Barlow Trail is part of the old Oregon Trail that was used by settlers coming over in Conestoga wagons. I am betting they didn't come over this time of year. Or if they did, their bones are still there someplace, under the snow. This particular part of the Oregon Trail was designed specifically to get around the blockage caused by Mt. Hood on the one hand, and the Gorge falls and rapids on the other. Seems like once you got your wagon and oxen team to The Dalles you had the choice of either building a raft and floating down the Columbia through the gorge (with a 2 mil portage around Ciello falls) or paying your 50 cents a wagon and pulling everything due south and west around the mountain through the pass where now sits Government Camp. The Barlow pass was slightly safer. You and your live stock would end up in Oregon City all ready for a successful run at the free farm lands of the Willamette. Kind of makes you nostalgic to go play the computer game again, huh?

So, we arrive at the Trailhead. The parking is pretty limited when the snow is deep. They plow out a section, but the road ends pretty abruptly. Today the entire parking area was essentially full, but my Partner saw a little space at the very end of the run just big enough to back in our little adventure Subaru. Good Find, Action Adventure Girl !!

We were putting on our layers and shoes and gear when I heard the first boom. A deep rolling sound somewhat reminiscent of distance thunder. What was that? A storm coming? Boooooooooom. Hmmm, no.... something else. Then it happened close by where I could see it. Booooooom. It was huge clumps of wet snow falling out of the trees. Wow. Don't want to get hit by one of those. It wouldn't kill you but it might knock you down, and you would be very wet.

We got our snowshoes on and hiked back up the road a bit to the trail head. A bunch of people were now showing up at the end of their hikes. They were all very wet and red faced. One woman said, “It is a rain forest in there”. Another “Watch out for the falling snow, I got hit in the head”. (See, I told you so).

Snow Orbs

We climbed up the 6 foot ridge out of the plowed area and shoed over to the trail head signs. Looked like hiking on the Pacific Crest trail would be fun today. We would be hiking on the trail toward Twin Lakes, but we didn't really think we would get there today. It was already 1:30 and we had reservations for a very nice room at the lodge starting at 4:00. So.... A few hours of hiking then.

The forest was a regular set of snow sculptures. The snow must have just blown in, thick and wet, in the last day or so and large orb like clusters of the stuff were setting on the west side of everything sticking up above ground level. It was lovely. We had a hard time getting started because we kept having to stop and take pictures of some new thing. And all of the time the sun was hitting the trees over our heads and melting snow was falling like a heavy rain all over and around us. And all around us was the occasional but steady booming of the snow when it finally gave up its sticky hold from the top of the trees and succumbed to its gravitic fate.

One thing that the still mostly fluffy snow and the sunshine reminded me of is the cool ice blue color effect you get when sun shines through snow. Anyplace there is a good footprint or other foot deep hole and the sun hits just right you get this marvelous penetrating blue color. I tried for a picture. It doesn't give the same sunny blue effect but you can see it some. Blue snow. Better than yellow snow.

The Blue in the Snow

 

The pre-lunch part of our hike was pretty much all up hill. We have not been doing our hiking this winter. We were feeling the steps. And you use a slightly different sort of muscles when you snowshoe and those muscles were quickly warning us about how much we were going to need a hot tub later.

At this part of the Pacific Crest Trail we really were near a local crest. We were mainly in the tress (pine and such) but we got occasional glimpses of snow capped ridges off to the east. We met maybe 20 other people on the trail. Many just out on the shorty snow shoes (good for groomed trails, but probably not so good for going off track) and also a few cross country skiers (going really fast, the bastards. Though they were going down hill. I wonder how they did going the other way?).

At around the 90 minute mark we reached a local maximum in altitude and decided to go off trail a bit and set up for lunch. We tramped an area down flat and spread out a tarp. When I am in the snow, I like to carry a good emergency tarp and one of those self-inflating sleeping pads. My partner and I could sit on the sleeping pad and it would insulate us from the snow. Otherwise, even on the tarp, it would be very chilly sitting down. Since we were no longer moving, I put on another layer. You cool down quickly when you quit walking. I started some water to boil, adding some snow to fill up my little coffee pot. We were planning on having turkey sandwiches and some hot soup (and tea). We had been sitting for about 10 minutes, and the water was just starting to steam, when my partner looked up hill and said “Oh”. I looked up expecting a polar bear or an avalanche or something else I would have to kill, but what I saw was wind sweeping through the trees. The sun was gone. The wind had started blowing. The temperature dropped 5 degrees. And just like that it was a different deal. Things were not looking so pretty. Things were getting cold.

 

We both decided to pack up and head back to the car.

It was snowing a little by the time we hit the trail again and the clouds had dropped down into the trees. Luckily the way back was downhill. You can go a lot faster downhill than uphill. We pretty much just coasted back to the car. We even had enough energy to do a little bit of off trail stuff, just for fun. When we got back to our car, the parking lot was pretty much empty. We saw a few more very wet people. I think most people were dressed in warm cotton and such. We were wearing rain gear and we were fine and dry underneath. So we climbed back into our trusty Subaru and got back on the main road.

Just in time to hit a very strange traffic jam that lasted all of the way back up the hill to the turn off to Timberline lodge. Very strange. We were guessing that there was either a car wreck someplace or this was just the congestion of everyone leaving the various snow parks and ski resorts and heading back to the city. Everyone else had to go to work tomorrow.

We were spending the night on the mountain in a glorious room in Timberline Lodge.

Why?

Because it was my birthday.

I really like the idea of staying in historic lodges and Timberline is a real treat. My partner and I have stayed there in the summer before (insert link) but this is our first trip up in the winter. This was set up as a special celebration so we were taking one of the nicer rooms in the establishment. Our room was big and rustic. It had a king size bed, two chairs around a table, a couch in front of a little table, an absolutely gorgeous old wood burning fireplace and a large bathroom with a walk-in all tile shower. It was such a great room. Everything is done either in actual historic items (like the bed frame and the fire poker) or in modern but historically reminiscent manner (like the push button telephone and the couches).

Timberline lodge was built in 1936 using WPA workers and funds. President Roosevelt dedicated it in 1938 with a speech that said (in part):

“This Timberline Lodge marks a venture that was made possible by W.P.A., emergency relief work, in order that we may test the workability of recreational facilities installed by the Government itself and operated under its complete control.”

Now doesn't that seem like a strange thing for an American President to say?

Of course, with all of this history comes a few problems. For instance, even an old Eagle Scout may never have run into the a situation where the east blowing wind makes the chimneys not draft correctly and so when you put a match to the pre-laid kindling, instead of getting a nicely drawing fire, you get a rapidly growing out-pouring of smoke which quickly fills your room, sets off the smoke detectors, and has you calling the front desk begging for rescue.

Evidently this sort of things happens all of the time, because the young bellman was there in an instant, told us to close the windows, open the doors, and he appeared with a big fan which he used to empty the smoke while he got the fire going and the flu sucking. Later he came back and lit another fire for us and this time he demonstrated the method of getting the flu to draft. You hold a burning piece of newspaper up high in the chimney until enough of a suction is created to pull the paper up into the chimney. Then you quickly light your tinder and away goes your fire. At that point, the chimney is drawing so efficiently that when you close the glass doors to the fireplace you get a forced air stoked fire.

Note the Snow out the window

Fire Bunny

Just a Little Smoke Damage

Such excitement.

And we had dinner reservations for 7:00.

Time to change. One of the things I like to do is to get all gussied up and go have a nice dining experience. As luck would have it, my partner also likes good food and charming atmosphere, so we put on our suit and dress and headed over to the Cascade Dining Room to see what the chef had going for the evening.

 

 

Now I have eaten at the Cascade on a few other occasions and it has always impressed. Tonight was no exception. When you go there, go all out. Don't chintz on the appetizers or anything like that. We had a half salad half scallop and salmon roe creation that was very yummy. And then while you are waiting for your main course, they bring you other little things. Some great fresh bread, of course, but also some little sample of something they are trying out. Tonight is was a little taste of salmon and prosciutto mixed with some fun sauce. Small but tasty. To “clear our palette” they brought us a little egg cup full of raspberry sorbet. Very palette cleansing. For our entre I had lamb cheeks and my partner had tenderloin. Both came with black mushrooms and butternut squash and a number of other fun little things. For desert we had coffee and a chocolate almond cake. Did we get wine? No. My partner didn't care for any and I didn't want a bottle by myself. I did have a couple of very find pints of a local IPA.

After dinner we went and sat by our newly rejuvenated fire for a bit to let our dinner digest, and then we put on our lodge supplied spa robes and headed down the hall to the outdoor pool and hot tub. That is right. Out doors. Even in the middle of the winter and even though surrounded by snow, there is a wonderful large and HOT (maybe 103?) hot tub. No chairs though, cause they were all covered in snow. We wallowed in the tub for a while. A good chance to stretch our legs out after the snowshoe. We did not go into the pool for a swim. True it was heated, but the cold wet wind blowing around was NOT. 

Luckily the moon was out. From my seat in the hot tub I could just see the rays of the full moon as it shown over the roof of the historic old lodge sending crystal moon beams down the...

"That isn't the moon"

"What?"

"The light, that isn't the moon. Look, the light is too close. That is a flood on the front of the building"

Dammit.

I stole this from Wikipedia. But I give them money.

Anyway, there was light and you could see stuff.

The next morning we had planned on doing another snowshoe, but it was raining. So we decided to laze around, have a huge brunch and then do some blogging in the main lounge.  The main lounge of the lodge is this big circular room that runs 4 floors up with a circular stone fireplace in the middle. On the ground floor is a sort of area for wet and cold skiers to hang out. They have their own part of the fireplace, but I have never seen a fire lit there. On the second floor is the main sitting area. Lots of couches and mini seating areas surrounding the fireplace. Big wrought iron everything everywhere. And Fires going. Lots of guests reading, using computers (yes, Virginia, there is wifi) and playing board games. The next floor up is a balcony around the edge of the room with more sitting a bar and light eats place in the evening.

We had a seat up in the bar area (not open yet) because that was where the nice seats were. You also had to be up that high to be above the snow level and able to see out onto the mountain. Strange to have the snow piled up over the windows on everything except the top floor. 

But, oh, the pretty blue color.

The Action Adventure Team goes Spelunking

The Action Adventure Team suited up last weekend and headed out for one of our yearly events, the descent into and exploration of Lake Cave.

NO MAP FOR THIS ADVENTURE

I have taken you into Lake Cave before link,  but this is the first time that my kayak partner has come along. She is very excited. Or perhaps freaked out. I should probably inquire as to which. But first, lets get on the road and drive up to the cave.

Usually at this time of year the area up on Mt Saint Helens where we are bound is under a few feet of snow. In fact, this is close to the week for the annual June Lake Snow Shoe trip. But even when we were down in the wet lowlands it was apparent that this was a hot dry year up on the mountain. When we got up there, no snow. None. Zilch. It wasn't even particularly damp. And the temperature was a ways above freezing. Is this really the winter in Washington?

Then entrance is a collapsed ceiling

Now Lake Cave isn't your usual cavern. It is a lava tube created by one of the many past eruptions of St. Helens. It forms when a flow of lava (a river really) is running down the hillside and the outside of the flow hardens. You get this tube of hard rock with molten rock still in the middle. Then the lava stops, or gets diverted, and the molten lava runs out of the tube leaving a nice long straight round hole in the ground. Eventually a part of the tube collapses make an entrance to the surface, and that is what the Action Adventure Team is going to climb down through. Usually we would use our pitons and climbing ropes for such a treacherous descent. But today we have decided to use the handy ladder that someone put there a few decades ago.

Lake Cave is one of many lava tube caves up on Mt. Saint Helens. The big, famous and public complex is called Ape Caves. That tube runs for a couple of miles and has a Ranger shack out front and probably a couple of thousand people a day climbing around in it during the summer. Now, at this time of the year, they close the road and you have to hike a mile to the entrance. Or perhaps snowshoe. So it isn't crowded. But still we had about 6 car loads of young people pulling up and parking at the lot that we were using for staging for our adventure. They had on jackets. We had on climbing helmets and such. They looked at us askance. We smiled.

See, Lake Cave is sort of a secret. It is legal to go out to it and all, and it is really pretty easy to find. It even has signs in it warning about bringing in white nose disease and killing the bats. But it isn't on the maps anymore. It is being allowed to disappear into obscurity by the rangers and such. Perhaps because of budget cuts. Perhaps to prevent tagging.

Water Droplets on Lichen. Look like silver

Glazed Rock or Molten Silver. Take your pick

That glazed stuff covered with red dirt.

On this trip I want to mention some of the new things that we saw. Yes, new things. We go every year and nothing changes and yet we still see new things. Well, one thing changes, the weather. What? Weather inside a cave? Yes. The temperature is pretty much the same year round inside (around 45 to 50) but the moisture is very different. It is always pretty damp in there, but when there is a lot of snow up topside, there is a lot of water dripping off the walls and ceiling and then running down the middle of the tube. Last year the river down the center was maybe an inch deep and then the last 50 feet of the tunnel was blocked by the lake of Lake Cave. This year was realitvely dry. No river down the center, no lake at the end. Still some drips and drops from the ceiling, but not the kind of “gee I wish I had a raincoat” kind of dripping.

So the other new things that we saw were things that have been there for thousands of years and I was just now seeing them. Most of it has to do with molten rock. Since this is a lava tube, there is a lot of evidence of molten rock. Lots of places where there were drips of lava that have hardened. The funny thing is that even those these things are thousands of years old, they still have a very recent look about them. They look like molasses or something gooey hardened overnight. Not a thousand years ago.

Here are pictures of some of the things I saw:

I especially like this one. See that hunk of rock there? It has fallen off that place above it and is not stuck in the molten layer beneath it. But that even happened when this area was molten. That was thousands of years ago. I checked the internets and they say that Ape Cave was formed around the year 80. Since I think that Lake Cave is a lower part of Ape Cave, I think that they were formed at the same time. So like 2 thousand years.  That rock has been sitting there like that for 2 thousand years. I should have taken it. I mean, the next guy won't appreciate it as much as I do. Especially if the next guy doesn't come along for another 10 thousand years.

About a mile down the tube (Not a mile underground, just a mile walk from the entrance) there is a little place where there is an intersection with another smaller tube. This side tube is harder to climb through and a bit more claustrophobic. But I have never been up it, so I pulled myself up on the side ledge and my partner and I headed in to see what was what. This side tunnel was around 5 to 6 foot high and about 2 to 3 feet wide. At just about head level it was bigger. Maybe 6 foot wide. And there was evidence of..... campers? What the hell? There was what must have been a campfire 'cause there was old burned wood. And also all around there were little round holes going straight up. Hey, these are tree casts. You can see the texture of the bark in the rock. This was ground level and when the lava came through it surrounded and covered the trees and left these castings. Up on the surface there is a place you can crawl through these old castings made from long gone trees. But these castings are way underground. And hey, that is where the burned wood is coming from. I found a log, must have been laying on the ground when the lava came. It was mostly covered in rock, but it had been exposed somewhat and now there was a round clump of charcoal that was coming out of the rock. How cool is that?

Looking Straight Up. See the castings of the tree bark?

Tree Casting. This one is horizontal

Looking down the tight side channel

Charcoal embedded in the rock

We were all getting a bit cold and tired at this point so we decided to take a rest and eat our lunches. I had a sandwhich (my partner makes the best sandwhiches) and then I pulled out my old carbide lamp helmet rig. This is an authentic antique carbide lamp like one that might have been used 60 years ago by spelunkers or miners of that time. Back then the batteries just were not good enough to provide for light for any good length of time. I remember my old boyscout flashlight back in the 60s. With 2 C batteries you could get 1 to 2 hours of light out of them. Not good enough for a many hour cave exploration. So people would use Carbide.

According to Wikipedia: Calcium Carbide is produced industrially in a electric arc furnace from a mixture of lime and coke at approximately 2000C. This method has not changed since its invention in 1888.

CaO + 3C goes to CaC2 + CO

Then, acceding to me, when you add water to it (very carefully) you get: CaC2+H20 makes C2H2 + Ca(OH)2. Which is acetylene gas and something with calcium in it. Perhaps Calcium Hydroxide.
So this is how you use Calcium Carbide. It comes in little rocks (about the size of cheerios) and you put it into the bottom of a special brass lamp container.

Carbide Rocks

Rocks in the bottom. Water in the top.

The top of the container you fill with water. I use tap water, but you could use bottled if you really want to. I might avoid Perrier. Anyway, you screw the top into the bottom. Now, there is a clever adjustment device on the top that lets the water drip ever so slowly into the bottom. So water ( H2O) will mix (in a hopefully controlled fashion) with the Calcium Carbide ( CaC2 ) and out will come the Acetylene (C2H2 ) gas and smelly stuff. The gas rises up through the top of the container (which we will henceforth refer to as a lamp) and is directed out this little pin hole in the front of the lamp and can there be lit and generate light. The jet of gas is very fine and cute and can shoot out around half an inch (much more than that and the entire thing gets too hot).

If you set everything up properly a single filling of the lamp can generate light for about 2 hours. Then you have to dump out the sludge and reload. Not sure how you are supposed to dump out the sludge and reload if you are assuming that you don't have any other light mechanism. The other part of this lamp is a little flint and steal wheel on the reflector mirror. This is to allow you to light the lamp without the use of other fire. I don't find that the wheel works all that great.

I made this one using just Carbide light (60 second exposure)

Long exposure of the gang working down the tunnel

Just to take you one more aside down my own personal software stack tunnel. What do you think happens if there is a fire in a Calcium Carbide warehouse and you haven't told anyone what you store there and the Fire Department shows up and sprays thousands of gallons of water onto everything?

THIS

The point of all of this was to try out my lamp and hardhat combination in the darkness of a cave. The experiment went pretty well. I walked down the passage and could see OK. The beam of the lamp was not as bright, or at least more diffused, than my electric head lamp, but the light was also an interesting yellowish color. The main problem I had was that the filled brass lamp is pretty heavy and mounting to the plastic hardhat I got at the store produced a front weighted hat that didn't want to stay on very well. It kept sliding down over my eyes. And you don't want to be reaching up into the flame to adjust it. Need a neck strap. (note to future self).

And so we ended our little jaunt. A few hours underground, a few new tidbits of knowledge. Hey, and I still haven't told you where the cave is ….......

The Action Adventure Team: Underground Squad

Salmon River to the Pacific

Salmon River to the Pacific

November 24, 2013

It turns out that it is possible to have a day that is too beautiful; too perfect; too seductive. A day that has a sun so bright and warm and an ocean so seemingly placid and inviting that it lures you right out into the world at large; lures you beyond your depth. This is a tale of such a day. So, join the Action Adventure Team as we explore the beautiful deadly wonder that is the Pacific Ocean..... IF YOU DARE.


View Salmon River and Surf Day in a larger map

I figure that introduction scared off all of the casual blog readers. Now you, my loyal and brave readers, can continue on in relative peace and quiet.

It REALLY was a beautiful day. The weather man was predicting sunny, 50, and 3-5 mph wind on the beach at the mouth of the Salmon River in Otis, Oregon. And wave height of 1-3 feet. That is nothing. That is much smaller than the waves we have practiced in during previous outings. This could be fun. I told my Partner that. I told her that I knew that Thanksgiving and Hanukkah was coming up this week and I knew we both had lots of house work and such to do..... but this River is a really great place to kayak and the weather was shaping up for a once in a year timing. If we went, she would not regret it.

So. 2 hour drive. Get up, pack the car, head out by 8:30 on the road to the coast.

OK, there are a lot of roads to the coast. You can drive down the Columbia River on route 30 to Astoria (slow and scenic. Lots of views of failed lumber towns). You can take route 26 to the coast near Seaside (fastest route through the mountains, except that everyone goes that way so it backs up on busy weekends). You can take route 8 down the Wilson river to Tillamook (very beautiful with great mountains and waterfalls). Or you can do route 18 to Otis (right past the Indian Casino). Since 18 parallels the Salmon river, that was the way for us today. We got to see the artsy section of wine country and the federal penitentiary. Down where the Salmon is turning into estuary there are a lot of fishing shack communities and such.

Because logging is good

My Partner desperately wants this car

We are headed to Knight County Park. This is a little boat ramp and parking area about a mile from the mouth of the Salmon. There are a number of Kayak Portland Meetup members paddling today. Half of us are heading down river to play in the surf at the mouth and the other half are heading up river to explore the estuary and enjoy the sunshine. My partner and I are going to try out the surf.

 

Sure, the surf. We have been practicing, after all, and the surf is supposed to be very low today. Should be fun. And we have picnic stuff and I brought my stick stove to cook some soup and tea. It will be fun. Our plan is to paddle to the beach at the mouth of the river, unburden our boats of the picnic stuff and such and then head out to test the surf. People are arriving in waves at the little landing, so you pretty much have to put your boat in the water and launch and get out of the way. We hear that one of the lead (i.e. best) kayak surfers has already headed to the beach, so we head that way also.

That last mile of the Salmon is a wonderful little area. To the south are river deposited sand dunes and low scrub woods. To the north (on our right) are sharply rising cliffs. These cliffs run west right past the mouth of the river and out a half mile into the ocean. Back along the river, where we are paddling, are a lot of very nice beach houses. They sit on the cliffs overlooking the river and point their big windows south across the dunes.

The river runs pretty straight from Knight Park toward the ocean. In the last 200 feet, it hits the cliffs and takes a strong turn left. Right at that turn is usually where you hit waves that are coming up the last part of the river from the ocean. The last time I was out here, when the tide changed, it was a little challenging (well, for 1 year ago me) to be in that part of the river, because of the swell and occasional small breaker riding up the channel. Not today. Today there is nothing at all riding up the river. The ocean doesn't exactly look like glass, but it looks pretty darn flat. Some small breakers that give some white water and then go back smooth again. More breakers off down the beach. Looks like the point that defines the little cove at the river mouth is protecting the entire area today. Cool. Let's get going. We beach in the soft sand at the mouth of the salmon and pop our hatches and drag our stuff up the beach to the little stack of picnic supplies left by other people. We are also leaving most of our solo person rescue gear. No reason to bring a paddle float or pump out in the ocean today. If one of us gets in trouble, the other one can empty their boat out. We practice that. And if you do flip over in the waves, you don't want a bunch of stuff on your deck or rolling around in your water tight compartments. So.
Time to go.

 

This is where the story should, by all rights, diverge into two seperate points of view. Because I found out later that I was thinking, “Oh, cool, Bill is out there in the ocean, we can go right out there and have some fun.” and my partner was thinking, “What in the hell is he doing? Does he see these waves? Does he think these will be easy to come back in through?”. The answer is: No, clearly, I was not thinking.

So out through the waves I paddled, my partner courageously (and against her better judgement) following. Action Adventure Team....... Ho !!

 

So, here is the story, going out through 3-5 foot waves isn't all that hard. Just point you bow pretty much right into the wave and paddle to get some speed and brace yourself right through it. The wave will break over you and you will get wet and cold, but your skirt will keep your boat from flooding and your dry suit will keep you from getting wet and freezing to death. So.... no big deal. Now coming back into short with 3-5 foot waves.......... well. We will get to that later.

For now, we were out through the breakers and into deep blue water and it is fraking gorgeous!! The sun is shining and warm, the ocean is lumpy enough to be a little exciting without feeling like we were all going to die, and there were..... things to explore. We were told there was a sea cave off on the cliffs to the north. Even as we watch, a couple of kayaks come floating out of a hole in the rock facing. Cool!!

A couple of Kayak Portland members paddled toward us. We swapped names and general experience levels (“I do this all the time” and “First time out in the ocean”). Okay. Now 4 people strong. We are a pod. We can go on an adventure. First, around the largish rocks sticking up in the middle of the cove.

Editor's note: My memory is a bit different.  The waves were 1-3 feet, more 1-2 with a few 3' breakers.    No big worry for paddling out, looked like fun (although, a 3' breaker is over my head when I'm sitting in my boat).  Once we were through the breakers and into the swells on the other side, I starting feeling uncomfortable.  Where was Bill?  Who's leading this adventure?  Jon and I usually paddle places where one of us has more experience than the other, but we were both on the ocean for the first time.  We met up with another two paddlers, and I thought "Oh good, here is D_ and her friend, they'll take the lead"  I asked D_ who her friend was, and she replied that she couldn't remember his name, she'd just met him.  T_ told us it was his first time on the ocean also!  My unease grew.

There are 3 of them. The parts sticking up above the ocean are about the size of Portland City Hall. They may be made of the same stone. We come toward them from the backside (the ocean side). We are in deep water so the swells, as they hit us, are very long and rolling and we don't notice this much. When the swells get to the rocks, they aren't exactly breaking on them, but the level of the ocean is rising 5 or 6 feet and there is a lot of swirling and sloshing going on around them rocks. Swirling and sloshing can be frightening in a kayak as the kayak would tend to swirl and slosh as well. Between the 2 northern most rocks is a large channel that....... hey........ the swell just passed and that channel isn't a channel. It is a bunch more rocks!!  If we had been over that when the water went down it would not have been fun for the kayak. Oh dear. But there is still some open water off to one side. So a smallish channel; with some swirl. One of our pod (“I do this all the time” girl) leads off through this maelstrom. My partner and I follow. I think you just have be aware of what the water is going to look like at both the top and bottom of the wave pattern. And steer for the most open and gentle water. My partner and I are a little concerned about this whole thing. But the first two made it..... so...….

 

I went through first. It doesn't pay to be too timid when you are paddling, you have more stability when you are moving. For one thing, when you are moving you can plant your paddle in the current and lean into it and it will push back on you. Can't do that so much when you are still. But you don't want to get going to fast, because then you can't stop when that damn rock rises out of the depths. So. A gingerly pace is set. The water and foam and bubbles swirl around us and we go through and clear the rocks with alacrity.

I have been waiting 50 years to use the work alacrity in a sentence. I learned the word originally as a consequence of the US Navy's habit of naming the ships in a squadron around a central theme. When I was 8 my Father was the Commanding Officer of a MSO (Mine Sweeper: Ocean) out of Norfolk. There were 4 ships in the squadron. His was the Direct (MSO 430). The other vessels were. Hmmm. My memory suddenly failed me. The internet also failed me. Drat. Direct, Dash, Alacrity, and something. Anyway..... Alacrity !!

Sorry, we were just barely surviving our trip around the big rocks. We did pause right about now to whip out the cameras and take some pictures.



Now we were off in front of the rocks. We could see the beach and the surf. We could see that the waves and such seemed to be picking up a little bit. The white along the beach was increasing. This is where my partner was thinking, “That is going to be harder to get back in than it was coming out”. I was thinking “Hey, I really want to go look into that sea cave” and “Is this too obvious a use of foreshadowing?”.

We paddled over to the base of the cliffs near the sea caves. These cliffs are formed by one of the many rocky spurs that forge their way out into the cold Pacific along the Oregon coast. This one is made of mostly light colored stone and runs pretty much straight up for 200 feet. Along the base are several cracks and such, one of which has developed into a substantial cave. Well, at least a substantial crease. This one was 15 to 20 feet wide (at the water) and arched up maybe 40 feet over our head. The sun was positioned such that it was streaming into the gaping opening and so lit the cave perhaps 60 feet into the side of the cliff. With this lighting you could also see how clear and blue the ocean was today. I could see a good 30 feet down in to the brightly lit blue beneath my Kayak.

“Cool,” I said. “Let's go in.”
“Is there enough room for 2?” my partner asked.
“Ok,” I said, still not hearing her trepedation, “I will go in and you can take my picture. That will be good blogging photographs”.

So she unlimbered the waterproof (which I had handed to her earlier) and took some shots. Her intention was to stay out of the damn cave, what with the swells rolling in and probably smashing unsuspecting kayakers on the cave ceiling. Then she decided, “But what if Jon goes back into the darkness where I can't see him and he flips over and hits his head, all that will come floating out is his Kayak.” so she followed me in.

Note:  I really don't like caves.  I mean, they are exciting in that "oh man, this is scary" kinda way, where you get to work on controlling your fear.  I also don't like being near stationary objects when the water is moving.   Pylons, rocks, things like that.  I don't want to be in a position where my boat is being pushed against something and I can't get free.  And the big swells moving in and out of that cave made me uncomfortable, so staying outside and taking pictures seemed like just the thing to do, until I realized he was going to move beyond my line of sight.  "Oh crap, better get moving so I can keep an eye on my Partner!"

Silly woman, I am wearing my Rock Climbing Helmet and and PFD!! I probably wouldn't be knocked unconcious and even if I was, my body would come floating out with the kayak. Ha ha ha, I am so droll. In reality there was swell, but really not much current in the cave. My kayak and body would have stayed inside until the falling tide.

But. She follows. I, on the other hand, had reached the limit of the sunlight and could see just far enough into the inky darkness to realize that I was at the last place where the cavern was wide enough to turn my 15.5 foot sea kayak around and thus egress. (well, I could egress backwards, but not with alacrity).

So I was doing my turn-in-place stroke. This is where you paddle backwards on the port, and then forward on the starboard (well, if you are doing a left turn). It was a little harder to do in here then out in the open because my space was limited, I kept bumping into the shear rock walls (well, shear and barnacled) and then there was this swell thing that kept me going up and down a few feet at a time. Anyway, I guess I thought I was more stabile than I actually was because at halfway through my turn, just when I was broadside to the incoming swell, I lost it and flipped over upside down.

Yes, I know. Bad timing. And believe me that I felt deeply embarrassed as I hung upside down in the freezing ocean, water shimmered light patterns playing on the barnacel encrusted cavern walls as they decided whether or not to crush the life out of me, and I thought, “Hmm. So. What is the right thing to be doing in a case like this?” My Partner is watching, so, clearly, panicking would not be appropriate to my stud-like manly persona. I decided to hang out in the cheery setting and call for a bow rescue.

You remember Bow Rescues, don't you? We have been practicing them. A bow rescue is for someone that is pretty good in a kayak and can feel safe upside down but doesn't yet know how to do a complete roll. I like to call it the maneuver for someone that has a solid half-roll. Oh, you also have to be able to hold your breath for awhile. I was taught this procedure by a nice young woman from Portland Kayak during an edging class. It was hot and I needed to cool off and she said “You need to learn to do a bow rescue”. She was right. And it only took like 10 minutes to teach me.

A bow rescue goes like this:
1) Person (soon to be) in need of rescue flips over.
2) Person in need of rescue doesn't panic and doesn't bail out of the boat. Instead, you grip the inside of the boat with your knees (to hold you in) and you put your head on your lap and reach your hands around the bottom of the boat (which is now above you) and slap 3 times on the bottom.
3) 3 times. Not 2 times. 2 times means you are going to bail out. 3 times. 4 times is right out.
4) Now you run your hands slowly up and down both sides of the boat. You are scanning. When you feel the rescue start to happen, you will be ready.
5) Your partner now has to do something. She (or perhaps the occasional he) as to come into your boat and nudge against you. Ideally this nudge would happen at about a 90 degree angle to your boat, but it really doesn't matter that much.
6) Your scanning hands will find the bow of your partners boat and then you use that to lever yourself and flip yourself back upright. Your boat will be un-flooded because the skirt you are wearing kept the water out.
7) Easy Peasy !!

Unless.

Your partner was hanging back a ways because she wanted NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT FRAKING CAVE. In which case, when she sees you flip over, she is thinking. Oh no no no Jon. You didn't do that. You didn't flip over. Now when you bail how in the hell are we going to..... wait..... no.... no he isn't....... he isn't..... he is.... that bastard is calling bow rescue. Dammit dammit dammit. I am too far away. Paddle Paddle Paddle. Fraking Cave. Fraking Jon. Fraking..... oh going too fast, back paddle, and SHIT. I ran him over. I am to high on the bottom of his boat. His hands can't find me. Am I going to flip? No..... I have to back off some so he can find me.

Meanwhile. Deep under the surface of the water and upside down, Jon is just having a wonderful time. Cold though. I have my hands scanning. I can see pretty well. But I can't see my partner or the shadow of her boat. But I know she is going to be coming. Where is she? I am scanning but I don't feel anything. I think I feel a bump, but that could have been my boat hitting the cave wall. Usually I would be able to hear her boat hit mine (yes, we practice) but there is a LOT of noise underwater in that cave. So I can't hear her. I can't see her. I feel something and lunge for it. But I think it was just my paddle. Shit. Out of air. I try for a breath of air without bailing, you are supposed to be able to do that, but I didn't get any air and that just put me in a worse oxygen situation. So kicked my skirt off and tumbled upside down out of the boat.

I did manage to come to the surface without sputtering too much. And there was my partner. Looking very concerned.

“Are you OK?”
“I am OK. I am fine.”
I start to move toward the bow of her boat so she can empty my boat. It is gonna be a little crowded when she crosses the T, but she can do it. She is good.

“I don't think I can do this, Jon.”

Shit. “Sure you can. You can do it. You have plenty of room. I have your bow”

“We will hit the cave walls”

“I will fend. It isn't that bad. You can do it.”

And she could, you know. She grabbed the bow of my boat and pulled it upside down over the top of her boat and let the water run out of the boat. Then she flipped it over and pulled the boats together and braced my boat.

“How we gonna do this?” she asked.

“Just like we practiced,” I said. And I kicked my feet off behind me, pushed off the cave wall and came up over my stern. Just like we practiced. Well, except for the kicking off of the cave wall part. But I scooted right into my seat and latched up my skirt. Easy Peasy. Hey, I was even facing the right way for egress. And so I did. With Alacrity.

Note:  There really wasn't much room in the damn cave.  And the swells were moving us up and down a good 3 feet.  I REALLY didn't want us both in the water, and didn't want to be in the cave at all.  So to let go of my only defense against capsize (my paddle) to pull his boat over mine and dump it was not my happiest moment.  But he was right, it worked out just fine.  Jon was quickly back in his empty boat, and pointed out instead of in.  I, of course, was still pointed in, in my 17' boat.  Having just watched him capsize after attempting to turn around, I wasn't about to do that.  So I back paddled out the length of the cave.

Then I remembered that my poor partner has a 1.5 foot longer boat. And still had to turn around. So I stopped and waited for her.

Once back out in the sunshine and away from the sea tomb we caught our breath. I got yelled at a little bit and I spent some time telling her how wonderful she is.

Then we started looking at the beach. The waves seem to have gotten even higher than before. We watch one person making his way in and saw a wave come up behind him and roll him. Bill, the wave guy, came out through the surf and met us. He said he had been towing lots of people in. My partner didn't like this. She was worried about me. She got her tow rope out of her day hatch and put it on. We started in.

Our plan was to make our way in to just before the breakers and then hang out for a little while and wait for a relatively calm time. Then we would windmill for all we were worth and race the next set in to shore. Sounds pretty good, huh? Especially since we can spend a lot of time just waiting. Resting. Preparing ourselves. I was reminding myself what I was going to be doing once a wave caught up to me. My Partner wanted to know who was going to lead. “Neither of us is going to lead”, I replied, “I want you off to the side of me so we don't have to worry about running each other over”. At least I thought this sounded good.

So we bobbed in the water, maybe 50 feet beyond the breakers. Things didn't look that bad. I was thinking about making a break for it.

This is when my partner yelled, “FUCK”.

I turned toward here. It turns out that “FUCK” in this context means, “Really Big Wave Breaking Right Behind Us”. And, it also turns out, that when a Really Big Wave is Breaking Right Behind You, the last thing you want to do is turn and look at it. What you want to do is paddle like hell and get ready for it. My partner proceeded to do this. I did too, but perhaps a bit too late. The wave caught me and took me, it pushed my stern up high and my bow down low. Then it slewed me to the left. This is when I am supposed to lean hard left and low brace and ride the damn wave. Instead I tried to stay balanced and the damn wave rolled my sorry ass over in the white foam. I almost rolled all the way over. That would have been a coup. Instead.... I was upside down again. This time with no partner nearby and another big wave in the set sure to be coming. So for the second time in 30 minutes, I bailed out of my kayak into the cold ocean. This is getting tiresome.

Wow. That was a big wave. For the day. And I am really far out here. I can't touch bottom. Usually when we surf we can always touch bottom. Swimming in a dry suit and booties is just like swimming in clothing and shoes. That is, it isn't much like swimming at all. I hung on to my boat and my paddle and tried to keep my flooded boat pointed toward the shore. Every 20 seconds or so another wave would break over me. Then, there was my Partner. She had not only stayed upright but she had turned around and come back for me. She is SO COOL.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Nothing I can think of,” I said, “I will just have to kick my way to shore. The waves should take me in eventually”.

Note:  That big breaker really caught us from behind, it was maybe 4'.  I didn't paddle at all but just braced and let it side surf me in for awhile until I could get off it, then circled back around to find Jon in the water.  He decided to stay with his boat and let the waves carry him into shore.  So we hung out for about 10 minutes, big breakers (2-4') coming in sets.  I'd get surfed a bit and circle back, but he wasn't getting any closer to shore.  And he'd been in the cold ocean water for about 10 minutes now, for the second time in the past hour.  I was starting to get worried.

“I will tow you,” she said.

Well. That just seemed to me like a good way for her to swamp too. But she sort of does her own thing, especcially when I am in no position to argue. She pulled the snap link end of her tow rope out and attached it to my bow safety line, and then she went on ahead and proceeded to tow me. But the snap just came right off of the line the first time she took up slack. Another wave broke over me and she had to circle around and come back.

“I can't attach it and stay upright at the same time,” she said.

...by now I was really worried we'd both end up in the surf, and I was starting to get tired.

“Throw it to me, I will attach it”.

She threw the end. I fished it out of the water and worked my way forward and snapped the carbiner onto my hard attach link on the bow. It sure wasn't going to come off now.

Once again my partner started to tow me. We were making a little bit of leeway.  I looked back. FUCK, another big wave. I warned her, “FUCK, another big wave !!”

“OK”.

The wave broke over me and pushed me toward her, putting a bunch of slack in the tow line. Then the wave hit her and she took off. I didn't like this. When the slack is out of the line it is going to snatch her right out of her boat and into the water. TWANG. It snatched her. But not out of her boat. In fact, it snatched her out of the wave. She was towing again. Another Wave. Another Snatch. And Then. And then. I hit bottom with my feet.

“I am walking”, I yelled. “I am good. Let loose the tow.”

...walking?  we're still way out there, and the towing is going fine, and the waves are still breaking around us.  Actually it's easier to stay upright when I tow, because I get pulled right back over the top of the waves instead of having to surf them to keep my boat upright.  Jon calls a few more times, a few more waves, before I decide to set him free and head for the beach.  Then I can't figure out how to do it, and finally remember to just release my belt and leave the line and belt in the water attached to his boat.

She hit the quick release on her belt and it came off into the surf. I was still getting hit by waves, but I had my feet under me and was moving steadily toward shore. Even better, two of our friends from the club had walked out through the surf to meet us and they were now helping me with the boat. My partner was tired, she took her boat into the beach.

Where is all of the big surf? Gone for the photograph? 

I joined her there in another 10 minutes.

“OK,” I said. “That is 2 that I owe you”.

We pulled up on the beach and walked over to where the club had gathered to make lunch. The sun was warm, which was good as I was rather cold from my 30 some minutes in the breakers. I was a little wet also, a dry suit isn't perfect and mine leaks a bit at the neck. I was looking forward to lighting up my stove and making some soup and hot tea. Now where was my stove? Where was my bag of stuff? Where was my wallet and phone and car keys? Holy shit, someone had stolen all of my stuff !!

Unless.

Unless.

I walked back over to my boat and popped the stern hatch. There was the blue bag that I had forgotten to take out and leave on the beach, “cause you don't want a bunch of stuff in your boat when you get flipped in the surf”. Dammit. So all of my heavy valuable stuff was in my boat the entire time. Sure am glad my water tight compartments are watertight. But that could not have helped my stability. Not one bit. This just hasn't been my day, kayak upright wise.

...thus his new club nickname, Upside Down Jon.

I went back over to the gang and fessed up to my latest mistake. Then I started lunch. I went and gathered sticks for my stick stove. A stick stove is a little wood smoke stove. You can make one from an old paint can, or you can do what I did and buy one from Amazon for $50. Want to read my review?

Anyway, you put a bunch of finger size sticks in the can and they burn up real nice and you put your little kettle on top and you boil a liter of water. The little beach wind was great for the fire, it flared up real nice and quick. I like the idea of this stove as a hiking stove. It is a bit heavy, but you don't have to carry fuel and you can find an hours worth of sticks just about anywhere doing a 5 minute hunt. The trick is, you have to keep feeding sticks into the thing all of the time. Like one stick every 2 minutes or so. If you walk away for 10 minutes, the fire will be out. So, I laid there in the sand and boiled water for my Partner's Ramen Noodles.

Bill had dug a hole and added charcoal and some of the others were roasting hot dogs and such a little ways away. It turns out that grilling on the beach is great if you like sand in your dogs. We had to wait about 10 minutes, but it was pleasant enough in the sun. Sure felt a lot warmer than the 51 degrees the weather man had been talking about.

After our lunch I decided that I needed to try the waves one more time (this time in the shallows where I could rescue myself) but the surf had gone down so much that my partner and I just couldn't find a wave to side surf in. The good news is that I didn't get rolled again.

...into the water, again?  He wants to go back into the ocean and play in the surf?  My first thought is a memory of how hard I was trying to stay out of the water, to not get capsized, accompanied by some fear.  So I decided to get into the water first, which is how we learned to surf in our first lesson.  Get into the waves, get over the idea that you're not going to be in them, and just have fun dumping your boat.  And Jon is right, we struggled to find any waves to surf that second outing.  But I got over being worried about staying in my boat and had some fun in the now tiny waves.

Cool, Clear, Water.

Boats? We don't need no stinking boats!

Kayak Portland organizer Julie took these pictures of us. And they show some actual waves!!

And the sun was starting to sink down. It gets dark really early here in the Pacific Northwest in the winter. 4:00 and we were losing our light. Time to pack up and head back up river to the car. We still have car packing and a drive home to do.

But oh.... what a great adventure!!