Peak Adventure

Ah...the call of the wild...the wild huckleberry, that is. Summer has been ticking away all too rapidly. While I can't complain that I haven't been able to get out and enjoy the fine season, I find it difficult to let any of the treats of summer pass me by. Right now is peak time for huckleberries up in the high country. So late Wednesday, I picked up my backpack, which, conveniently enough, was already packed with two days' worth of food, just in case. I quickly printed up some letterbox clues and hit the road.

The destination was Lost Lake, 28 miles south of Hood River. I remembered this gem from our Round Two adventure last August. I headed for the same secret campsite we'd found on our last trip and, amazingly enough, it was still there. Perhaps it just magically appeared as it had last summer as I approached, pack on my back. I set up my tent in the clearing surrounded by glorious old growth Doug Firs with curious mushrooms popping their little russet heads out of the soil here,there and everywhere. Good company, indeed!

It was around 5:30 as I headed off on my letterbox search. The stroll around the lake is about 3 1/2 easy miles with beer and ice cream available for those who partake. What with poking here and there and stamping into the logbooks along the way, I made it back to camp just about dark. It was dinner by headlamp, not quite as romantic as candlelight. Right after my one-pot jambalaya, I got horizontal with Sherman Alexie's novel Flight. I'd been waiting for this one at the local library for two months and was anxious to jump in.

The night was quite warm, never dropping below fifty-five degrees. My forty-two degree bag was actually a tad too warm for my taste. The night sky at thirty-two hundred feet is stunning, especially with an almost full moon and not a whisper of cloud. Morning came bright and clear. I set off on my eleven and half mile roundtrip trek to Buck Peak. Last summer this was done toting a full thirty plus pound pack so my little daypack felt like a cloud on my back. We had seen an immense wealth of huckleberries at this peak last time we visited and I was anxious to pick. I was not disappointed. Being pretty darned small, it takes ages to gather many of these tasty gems but and hour and half yieded about three cups. I gleaned my way along the overgrown path to the summit.

I ate berries, gorp, jerky, an energy bar. With 'nary a soul to be seen all day I was compelled to shoot a self portrait...



The little furry guy is a pocket gopher (to the best of my knowledge) that I met with along the trail... As I headed back to camp, I ran into my first humans of the day, three men. Their destination? Buck Peak. Now THAT would've been an interesting encounter at the summit.