Trail Log: 8-10-2023

August 10^th – Pine Lakes

Ashes and Avalanches

• Trail: Pine Lakes - Summit Point to Pack Station
• Miles: 17
• Riders: Self - Lee
• Horses: Jack - King

August 10^th. The date is a thing for me. It's when I try to make my annual trek to Pine Lakes in the Eagle Cap Wilderness. I've made the trek before this date and I've made it after. While going after is totally acceptable, I avoid it because I like to see the lakes full to the brim and wildflowers of every color under the sun. To go before is to risk adverse conditions including but not limited to: deep snow fields – impassable snow monoliths – failure to locate trail due to snow coverage – dangerous creek crossings courtesy of snow melt. This is not an exhaustive list. It is merely one that covers those conditions I have personally discovered the hard way. With that said – it has been worth it...every single time.

I rode into Pine Lakes for the first time nearly 40 years ago. The date was August 10^th. The trail was in good shape...a lot better than it is now. The Forest Service no longer maintains trails. They are mandated by law to do so and is, in fact, one of their primary responsibilities...but, well, that's a discussion for a different blog. Thankfully, outside groups such as Back Country Horseman – Cornucopia Pack Station Outfitters and others have picked up the slack.

August 10^{th, 2023} was rolling up quickly. Lee had never been to the area surrounding Pine Likes. I told him I would be making my annual trek and would be more than happy to have him join me. I also added my disclaimer: It is rugged country. The navigability of the trails are unpredictable. We could end up fighting our way to the very end of the trail only to encounter an obstacle forcing us to turn back the way we came. It would be a 17 mile ride in perfect conditions and possibly twice that if Murphy shows up. By definition – this would be a “Lee Ride.”

While on that subject, I am going to take the time and the words to digress a bit. The term “Trail Ride.” Two words that together might evoke a benign connotation. A group of riders frolicking merrily down a groomed trail on their way to a catered wine tasting experience. That's one type. Then there is the other: The type we call a “Lee Ride.” Both Trail rides and Lee rides suggest the involvement of a horse and rider. The similarities end there.

There may or may not be a trail on a Lee ride. If The Lee ride does indeed follow a trail of some fashion – you can bet your puckered butt cheeks you won't meet a dude string on it. It might be on a map – it might not. You learn to embrace a Lee Ride and just go with it. Consequently, Lee did not bat an eye at my disclaimer. Lee does not drink – but that did not stop me from replenishing my Fireball flask.

Lee and Susan drove to The Cabin the evening before. I would rather ride a loop than up and back. We parked his truck, also called “The Beast” at Cornucopia. If the trail gods were with us – we would loop around the back side of the lakes and come out at the pack station. We would haul the horses in my rig and put in at Summit Point.

I feel if you survive the haul in you're halfway through the battle. The usual steep, winding roads littered with potholes and washboards threaten to vibrate you off the mountainside. I suppose it if were easy to get to – it wouldn't be worth going.

Jack's hind feet still cannot support a shoe. I put his Easy Boot sneakers on the backs and carried an extra pair that will slip over his fronts if needed. He would likely need them. I don't think they make a boot that will hold up in terrain like what is in the Eagle Caps. Miles of granite and shale make short work of a rubber sole. I carried the extra set betting I'd need them before we got off the mountain. It was a bet easily won.

Putting in at Summit Point starts you out at a higher elevation so the ascent is not as steep. The short grade from the parking lot to the trail head skirting the lookout to me is the worst. From there, it is approximately 3 miles to Little Eagle Meadows and Schneider's Cabin.

I've seen Schneider's cabin in better condition than we found it this year... I've seen it in a lot worse, too. I don't know the history of the cabin other than the name. I assume it was built by Chris Schneider – long time resident and multi-term mayor of Cornucopia. A trip to the local museum is on my list.

You leave Little Eagle Meadows and begin to ascend quickly. The trail is not for the faint of heart. Straight up on one side – straight down on the other and nothing for footing but sure-footed pony and a prayer. There is one ravine in particular that gives me a bit of the willies. Jack wasn't old enough to ride back then so I was leading him with packs loaded with gear. We came to the ravine – up on the high side lay a saddle blanket. Strewn straight down the ravine as far as you can see was pack boxes and gear. I don't know if a horse or mule could survive that wreck and wondered what lay beyond.

We passed through a saddle and up the ridge to where the trail forks: Crater Lake one way – Pine Lakes the other. Lee had casually mentioned earlier he would like to check out Crater Lake as well. It's not that far from Pine Lakes but it is slow going. We would not have time to get to both in a day ride. We took the Pine Lakes trail and worked our way over a downed tree blocking the trail.

The view from the top of the ridge looking down on Pine Lakes is deceiving. It looks like you are almost there from this vantage point. You are not. Last year a tall monolith of a glacier blocked the trail at the highest point. You couldn't go around from either side or through it. Three of us spent an hour hacking at it before shoving it over the edge and continuing on.

August 10^th did not disappoint. The lakes were filled to the brim. Small patches of innocuous snow added to the aesthetics of one of Gods greatest masterpieces. You would be hard pressed to find a more beautiful place.

Dropping into the lakes from the back side is one of the more challenging sections. Not challenging as in particularly dangerous....it's just straight down over granite switchback after switchback. I find it best to zone out, trust your horse and get down it without thinking too much. I have seen where this section of switchbacks is referred to as The Nip and Tuck. However, I believe the official Nip and Tuck is on the other side of the lakes going out via the Pack Station. I've seen the latter on an old (very old) map my Uncle showed me years ago. Either way, it is an adequate description for both.

We hobbled the horses in a large meadow above the lake. A web of rills feed the meadow producing a carpet of lush grass dotted with wildflowers of purple, yellow and orange. If I get to pick – this would be a good place to die.

I set my lunch aside, gathered my camera and told Lee I would be back shortly. There is something I have to do. I climbed down a steep ravine carved over the ages by a creek cascading to the lakes below. I sat on the same large downfall laying directly in the center of the V of the ravine I'd discovered almost 4 decades before. Orange Indian Paintbrush and yellow mountain daisy framed the pristine blue lakes. This shot would reenact a photograph spanning 40 years. When my days are done here on earth, my ashes will become part of this masterpiece.

I mentioned to Lee that I was going to make my kids pack my ashes up the mountain and spread them in the spot overlooking the lakes – assuming they can find my dead carcass. He casually shrugged and said: “Heck, I'll do it for them.” While that's a terribly sweet thing to offer, it was a bit disturbing, too. Lee is older than I am. He said it with such confidence I was left wondering what the hell does he know that I don't?

We finished the descent into the lakes. No turning back now. This is where I get a little nervous. Would the trail leading out be passable? If not - the thought of riding back out the 8+ miles we came in wasn't something I relished.

We skirted the lakes. I could see that naked girl rock was mostly under water. I pointed to the infamous spot: "She'd have to be a skinny naked girl to be sunbathing on that this year!" Lee gave me a puzzled look. I grinned: "I'm not admitting to anything and that's all I'm saying about that!"

Lee hailed a small encampment of tents pitched on the small stretch of earth seperating the two lakes. "Hello in camp!" We visited briefly before continuing around to cross Pine Creek at the base of the dam. I sent up a silent prayer that Murphy was on vacation in the back country of some other planet as we started the descent toward home.

The Nip N Tuck switch-backs over a mountain face of granite. You wouldn't call it a walk in the park but it was vastly improved. It looked like somebody had somehow broken up the obstacles of granite boulders that had blocked the trail in previous years. In their place lay shards.

As we zig-zagged down the mountain – an overview of the wooded valley below came into view. A huge swath of downfall and debris consumed the trail below. Lee had seen this type of thing before: Avalanche. We'd have to find a way through or around it. There wasn't enough day left to turn back. Damn you Murphy.

Part way off the mountain, I caught movement in my peripheral vision. I turned to catch a glimpse of a young mountain goat disappearing behind a jagged rock formation. I'd never seen mountain goats in all the years on this trail! I kept looking for it hoping to get a picture but it remained hid. I fought the urge to hike up to the formation and see what there was to see. We didn't have the time. Next year...

We had arrived at the avalanche carnage and was relieved to find a path had been cleared through the debris. Take that, Murphy! Beneath the debris lay several feet of snow. The snow supported King better than it did Jack but we managed to get through to the other side without incident.

Nothing looked familiar. The avalanche had totally changed the landscape of this section of trail. We crossed a creek that wasn't there before. I pulled out my GPS to verify we were still following the right trail. When I finally reached something that did look familiar – I realized we weren't nearly as far as I thought.

The remainder of trail was unaltered by time, avalanches or other natural phenomena. We soon reached the familiar trail disappearing over a massive array of granite boulders. Holes drilled into the rock for blasting scarred the granite giants in pockmarks.

We reached my least favorite part of the loop: an exposed, barren hillside of loose shale that ate the toes out of Jack's Easy Boot sneakers. They weren't designed for this type of terrain but had held up better than I expected. They had served their purpose.

It was close to 6:00 PM when we reached the pack station. The couple that run the outfitting business were outside working on a mule. We stopped and talked for a good hour. The couple asked how the trail was coming off The Nip N Tuck. They were the ones who had cleared the way off the Nip N Tuck and cut a path through the avalanche debris. That was a LOT of work. I explained that I grew up in this area and rode around Cornucopia often. They invited me to stop in anytime. It is an offer I will surely accept.

Lee's trusty “Beast” (coolest truck ever) waited to haul us home. We stashed the horses in the portable panels I set up at The Cabin. Lee drove me back to Summit Point to pick up my rig. By the time I got off the Summit, hauled Jack and turned him out and arrived back at The Cabin– it was 9:00PM. Susan and Lee would spend another night before returning home.

Epilogue:

Normally my trail logs are no more than a few paragraphs in length. I log the name of the trail– the miles rode – the riders, horses and dogs that participated and a short description under "notes." An August 10^th trail log is special...at least to me. As a result – this trail log is longer than most out of necessity. There are several reason I blog.

One: I write because, well...because it's what I do. Same for breathing and blinking. Try going without either of those and see how it turns out.

Two: I blog so that my grandkids know I did something in my retirement years other than watch reality TV and eat bon-bons. (do they even make bon-bons any more?)

Three: I can't remember shit. Seriously. If I don't write it down, it didn't happen. Proof in point: The disappearance of The Wilderness Tree.

I believe I am resistant to change. As we entered Little Eagle Meadows – we came upon a newly erected (at least within the last year) Eagle Cap Wilderness boundary sign. I found that odd since we weren't yet in the wilderness. The official, albeit old, wilderness boundary sign is nailed to The Wilderness Tree a few miles up the trail from Schneider's Cabin. Jim Palmer – if you are reading this – you are surely shaking your head and cracking up about now.

We crossed Little Eagle meadow and proceeded to climb toward the the sky-lit saddle. A few miles in, I realized I hadn't yet seen the Wilderness Tree. I didn't miss it...I never miss it. It's one of the landmarks I look forward to when making this trip. The sign is old and has broken in to pieces but somebody always nails it back on it's rightful place on the Wilderness Tree.

We came to where the Wilderness Tree once stood; a regal sentry...guardian of the realm between civilized society and untamed wilds. No "sign" of the dilapidated wooden artifact OR tree to be found. Those bastards. They don't have time or resources to clear trail but they can find it in their cold, shriveled little hearts to cut down a treasured, historical tree and place the sign in another location....THE WRONG LOCATION. What kind of a sick mind would do such a thing? What's next...decapitation of the Statue of Liberty? I would stew and grumble for miles.

Some time later, as we descended the Nip and Tuck...it hit me. I hadn't seen the Wilderness tree because we hadn't got to it yet! It's not on the Summit Side of the lakes – it's on the Pack Station side! I whacked myself in the forehead with my palm: Is this what it's like to get old?

Sure enough – between the avalanche sight and the Red Bridge – my Wilderness Tree loomed proud and regal...sporting a brand-spanking new “Eagle Cap Wilderness” sign. Sorry Forest Service...I take back calling you sick bastards. However, the sign you put up in Little Eagle is still in the wrong spot!

The end of my August 10^th adventure brings me to why I blog reason number four: Humor.

To find the humor in adversity and every day life is essential to me. By the end of the day, if you can't laugh at yourself and find the humor in the fumbles, misfortunes and mishaps...what are we here for? Why would God give to us and no other animal on the planet, the gift of laughter? If we were merely the accidental product of a “Big Bang” - we would not possess the ability to laugh.

I won't speak for anybody else – but I know for sure I'm not getting out of this world alive. I could get thrown off my horse and eaten by a pack of wolves tomorrow. I could pass away in my sleep at 102. I could die of cancer in 6 months. There's only one person that knows the how and when and He, thankfully...ain't telling.

When my time does come and my kids are cussing me for requesting they pack my remains over the Nip N Tuck at 8,000 feet elevation – I pray they find solace in something I have written. Perhaps it will be this very blog. As the wind lifts my ashes, think of them as tiny grains of laughter sprinkling down over orange Indian paintbrush and yellow mountain daisies...to be carried gently on the breeze to the pristine blue waters of Pine Lakes below. 

The Wilderness Tree