What happens in February when Old Man Winter shares a bit of the seasonal stage with that vernal upstart spring? Well, mountain bliss would be my answer.
Snow depth around these parts has been maintaining at 88% of average, but snow line has been higher and more distinct than usual; this was a great combination for getting deep into winter. All that was needed was a rare February high pressure system… and wow did we get that! So, with vacation approved and a fresh snowpark pass in hand, I headed up FS Road 13 where motorized progress was halted by snow at 2900’. A pre-dawn start ensured a firm travel surface, at least for Bodhran. Indeed, I was able to float on the crust with my 70lb pack until about 4500’; henceforth I wore the snowshoes. The trailhead at 3300’ has about 4.5 feet of snow.
I chose to ascend Rocky Creek rather than follow the trail because 6-10’ walls of snow buggered any crossing in the lower section. There was a narrower gap up higher. The dog would not jump, because, well, it was a scary gorge, so I helped Bodhran fly. I’m sure he did not appreciate it, but coaxing only goes so far. Anyway, onward to our planned ascent of the south end of the west moraine; here it still has some anchoring trees. After attaining the crest we contoured into Morovitz meadows, lorded over by the steaming volcano called Kulshan. The rest of the day’s toil was a beautiful slog. The air was occasionally scented with 2-stroke exhaust from petrol-based recreationists. Ambulatory totals: 4.5 miles, 2500’ gain, 3.5 hrs. The trip out did not require snowshoes at all. Crossing higher on Rocky Creek avoided any leap; it was mostly covered over.
The catwalk of the structure had 1-4 feet of frozen snow and ice requiring nearly another 4 hours of toil. But the result was worth it; I could then step out of my bedroom-in-the-sky and pace about the deck in slippers prowling for photos. It was not a serene place though, being a winter recreation area for machines after all. Good thing I was not expecting solitude. But it was generally quiet before 10a and after 5p. Many courteous snowmobilers visited, but not one self-propelled traveler showed during the four days.
No complaints though. I was grateful for the weather, the periods of silence, stars, and the spectacular coincidence of so much sun and new snow. Each day began with a splinter of orange light stabbing from the fractured Cascades, and ended with that same light extinguished by icy rock. Daytime temps were near freezing with a low of 24. The air was still and warm Thursday and Sunday. There was plenty of time to ponder long shadows on pillowy snow, lounge in the sun against a snow drift, or return percussives to playful ravens. Bodhran worshiped the sun in cold air, and chased snow downslope that he dislodged himself; wretched mountain living. I should want to return there as soon conditions allow.
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