Observing Change
by Jared Nelson
My wife and I had been holding onto some old flight credit and it was about to expire. Neither of us had been to Oregon before and only had heard about places in the northern regions of the state. We found Medford airport on the list and planned for a long weekend. October came and we set out for the trip with little on our itinerary. We were winging it.
We landed around 2pm and had our bulky backpacking bags in the trunk of our rental car by 3pm. The urban landscape didn’t last long on our way to the first trailhead. An hour and a half drive to a section of the Rogue River was on our gps. We gazed out of the window at the rolling hills smothered in smoke. The pastures were crispy and golden. It’s mid-October and the forecast reads highs in the 80’s.
As we winded through the forest to the trailhead, the lowering sun bloomed through the haze. It was a magical way to start our trip, but the lingering worry of forest fires was on mind. We set out with about an hour and a half of daylight left in the sky. There was no cell service and we relied on our mobile map to keep us on trail. Like I mentioned earlier, we’re winging this. We had no clue how many miles in we would have to go in order to find a flat spot to pitch the tent. But the empty parking lot gave us hope that the nearest spot would be vacant. The trail is carved alongside the river and at times carved into the cliffside hundreds of feet above the water. On the other side of the river we could see a trail very similar to the one we were on. Although a harder glance revealed sections of the trail that are surely impassable. Long vertical channels of rockslide block the trail in multiple spots as our eyes follow the trail downstream. We were just really hoping our trail wouldn’t look the same around the next bend. Just about a mile in we found a fork in the trail that led down to a small sandy patch near the water. A perfect spot for camp and still a little light left to cook our dinner.
Most of our gear is scavenged from the garage sale section at REI. This results in far less money spent, but compromising in weight, size, condition, or a mixture of all. On night one I discovered my sleeping pad would no longer hold air and the repair patch wasn’t doing the trick on the unfortunate location of the tear. The irony is the tear came after the purchase. But this was no ultra-lite pad, so the insulation inside maybe gave me a yoga mat’s worth of cushion - Better than nothing I suppose. I spent a good while laying there in my sleeping bag, on my deflated pad, just staring through the mesh of the tent. Thoughts coming and going, and trying to settle into our new environment. I’m unsure exactly when it came into vision. Whether it had been there the whole time unnoticed, or it illuminated just then, we noticed a small orange glow near the top of the mountain. Unzipping the tent didn’t do much to help us get a better look at it. The only thing that came to mind was fire, and the smokey haze from earlier in the day didn’t make us feel any better about it. This was on the opposite side of the river from us and far away, so I continued to watch and made sure it didn’t start to grow in size. Eventually it faded and our suspicions of a campfire became more probable. Despite the fact that the entire area was under strict fire bans.
Although gravity was punishing my tailbone and shoulder blades, sleeping on my back earned the most comfortable rest. We packed up camp from the inside out. Filling our bags with our belongings while still inside the tent to get our bodies warm. Mostly packed, we boiled some water and soaked in the sharp air. As we sat on the rocks with our instant coffee, a rustling noise hailed from the mountainside across the river. I thought it was an animal at first, but the sound of shifting rock became more pronounced and the dust started to rise. More rockslides, luckily not in our direction. This was our sign to get going.
What I assumed was a mix of smoke and fog shifted through the canyon creating some amazing light and compositions. As we hiked, I looked back across the river at the sections of trail washed away by the rockslides. These scars must have been made by much larger events than what we witnessed that morning. It seems as if the land is trying to reclaim itself. At another point we notice an impressive size boulder hanging onto the mountainside for dear life. Its descent into the river will be a sight to see one day. The trail did a great job of putting our size into perspective. The canyon’s appearance constantly shifting as the light changes direction. Steep mountain layers revealing themselves slowly with the growing sun. As we continue to hike out, my eye catches rising smoke. A few more steps down trail and we see smoke flowing from a rotting tree stump. I thought I even saw a flame, but the distance was too far for me to be certain. We continued on.
Our first night was short and sweet with incredible views. Observing the past and living in the current environmental changes didn’t settle in until later. We were riding high with great weather and a new day ahead of us. Traveling 120 miles to Crater Lake National Park became a short trip with our eyes glued to the landscape. We weren’t sure if backcountry permits were limited so we headed straight to the ranger’s station. The Ranger gave us the usual rundown of safety and information on the area. Falling trees and branches can be fatal, so we should be sure to pick our camp spot carefully. I guess no one really expected the weather to be as comfortable this time of year. There was only 1 other group registered for our same trail. The Ranger also seemed a bit appalled by my short sleeves. They claimed that October typically brings frigid temps and snow at this elevation. Our thickest layers were jeans and a puffer jacket. We felt grateful.
There was no camping allowed with a view of the crater during the summer season, so we used the drive to the trailhead to catch a glimpse. It felt similar to the Grand Canyon in our home state of Arizona. Like we can’t fully comprehend the size and depth, so it appears almost like a backdrop that isn’t real. It was otherworldly. At around 3pm we were hiking our way into the forest to stay the night at one of the backcountry campgrounds. We scored the best spot as there was no one else around. No branches or trees that could fall on us. There was also a water source. A small spring that opens out of the ground at the entrance of the camping area. It flows down nearby our tent and continues until its momentum drifts into another direction. It’s captivating. The water brings life, greenery, and the best sounds. After eating some food and unpacking, the light began to shift hues. We went out to explore. There were many fallen trees that created bridge like connections to keep us off of the forest floor. It felt alive and dead at the same time. We eventually made our way to an opening in the trees. There were many areas like this around here. We noticed them on the hike in. Large bald sections of land with no life. But then the dense forest starts again and appears to be thriving. We pondered what must cause this, but ended up deciding we had no idea what we were talking about. We headed back to camp and settled in for the night.
The next morning hiking out was slow and cold. Not terribly cold, but we had been spoiled by the good weather. Our first stop was the car and then to Rim Village. They weren’t serving hot meals until 11am so we chose to wait. This is the only place we have cell reception and the gift shop has wifi. Winging a backpacking trip is certainly easier with wifi. We researched our next trail and made coffee on the parking lot curb. Lunch marks our 24 hour timer for returning to the airport. But we still had some time to kill, so we took a drive to see more of this crater. Learning even a little bit about Crater Lake is fascinating. Wizard Island is a volcano inside of a volcano and created beautiful scenes as we explored around. They say that it could erupt at any time and is overdue to do so. Luckily our human lifespan is just a speck compared to the Earth’s, but all of these things still make us feel at mercy to mother nature. Soon enough we were back at the Rim Village eating massive hot dogs and a plate of nacho fries. It was exactly what we needed.
We were back on trail around 2pm for our last night. This was a section of the Pacific Crest Trail that passes by Mt. Thielsen. We were hoping to catch views of the peak. The forest was very dense with many fallen trees. We weren’t sure if we would get to any open areas or how many miles we were going to go in. Our flight was at 2pm the next day and our rental car was due at noon, so we couldn’t put in many miles. We have to consider the hike back out and the 100 or more mile drive back to Medford. The answer was to go in about 3 miles to see if we could reach some point of interest. It was a gradual incline. The fallen trees littered the ground throughout the hike. We had some worry about finding a large enough section of ground to lay our tent between the trees. But with more elevation gain came less fallen trees and we were now somewhat on the side of the mountain. The worry then became finding flat ground. We passed 3 miles and were waiting to stumble by our home for the night. Exposed rock and boulders leveled out a small area. This was our spot. Although we didn’t reach an opening or lookout, being encapsulated in the forest was equally as serene. We were also on the western facing side of the mountain, so the sunlight beamed in through the trees before it set behind the landscape. It seems that if you keep your mind in a good place, then these magical moments appear no matter where you end up.
That night was our best rest. It could have been from the lack of good sleep the previous nights, but there was another reason. Once the dark settled in and we were deep in our sleeping bags, not a sound could be heard outside of our dwelling. It felt like we were laying in our tent in our living room. At first it was unsettling, but the uninterrupted sleep outdoors was a privilege. The drive back to Medford took a different route, so we were able to see more of the area. We continued through a section of forest going south. They were the largest trees I had ever seen in my life. Probably twice as tall as the trees we slept under that last night. The reoccurring reminder that we as humans aren’t as important as we think we are. This kept coming back to me and it was freeing.
The flight home brought reminiscent feelings of the changing environment. Everything we experienced and observed will inevitably change. Not necessarily for the worse, but that is the fact. The smoke in the air, the rockslides, volcanoes, weather patterns, and fallen trees with their roots standing taller than my wife. I think that the most important aspect of this is to cherish what is here for us to experience and to have the lightest possible influence on these changes.
