The meadows of Jefferson on the north side are one of a small taste of things to come. The change of these mountains, with growing vails of white glaciers along their ascending rise towards the heavens, seem to become greater as we pass the 45th N Latitude. Jefferson reaches up towards the sky with a sharp point, looking over the Deschutes and Metolious. With a great garden along the northern wall.
Drawn north over the snows of Park Butte we make our first 32 mile day. Waking the distance between the mountains to the base of Wy'est. Through gentle forests of blueberries and pines. Ravens follow us along the trail through Warm Springs lands. At the end of the day, Clackamas River and a view of the last of the Cascade giants of Oregon, Wy'est (Hood).
The rumble of thunder through the night and morning, begin to cool the forests that surrounded the last of Oregon's mountains. Wy'est covers itself in a cloak of mist. The following evening lightning takes the sky, and thunder trembles the forest. Wind begins to whip through the Old Douglas stands, and soon we find ourselves along the banks of the Columbia.
Wy'est kept us from her meadows. But the mist along the great gorge towards the Pacific, tell of one more state to go. The storm passes on and thoughts of the Goat Rocks, Klickitat, Tahoma, Da'Kooba and Komo Klashan, meet us here at the rivers edge. Oregon has been beautiful, but the deep forests of Washington lay beyond the rivers edge with promise. Tommorrow we'll begin the last 500 miles. I look forward to the long High Cascades ridgeline. Hopefully the end of summer finds us well.
From the backcountry mile
Ridgewalker
山武士
Http://ridgewalkernw.blogspot.com
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