7/25 morning…timberline lodge to sandy river After spending the night at Timberline in absolute luxury, we headed for the trail at 9:30am. As mentioned in the last post, Connor and I were a bit nervous about crossing the Sandy River, since we had heard so much about it. In the Oregon Section, this is the only "Dangerous" river crossing, and they recommend crossing it at 6am, when the snow run-off is at its lowest.
We three (connor, Ian and I) left the hotel in the murk and rain and cold (Just next to and above us, the ski lifts operate year round,and we can see our breath) and I immediately knew I was ill-prepared with my $5 plastic rain poncho that didn't stay snapped with the wind, and which didn't even cover my arms or sides. I had chosen to save my only warm layer of polar fleece for warming up in the tent (bad decision), and I was wearing a s/s layer and a long thermal layer under my rain poncho. not enough. As we started hiking up the trail, I was having trouble getting enough air (did I tell you I got bronchitis, maybe from the fire smoke??) and I started to panic. I realized I couldn't make it with what I was wearing, and I stopped and said i couldn't do it. Ian kept going with nary a word(was a sad and strange goodbye after all we had been through over the weeks), and Connor and I went back down to the store and spent more money.
I bought a synthetic down vest $90, and a little rain jacket that looked like it would cost $28 at target ($140), and off we went back to the trail. A half hour later, Connor and I are back on the pct (10am..our latest start yet), but with the rain and murk, we are ok with that. We have 3 days left of our hike, we don't have a ton of miles, and we told Dianne we would be at Cascade locks on Friday. we don't have to rush to finish the last section.
We go up and down with the elevation changes, and although there are beautiful vistas, they are absolutely and completely obscured by the rain and fog. We follow the trail. At about 1pm, we reach the sandy river. We can hear it roaring in the distance, and when we arrive, we have to yell at each other to be heard above the din of the river. There is a designated crossing of 2 logs, but the water is pouring over the top of those, and we realize we have to walk upstream to find a safer crossing.
Out of the mire and fog appears a lone youngish guy, also eyeing the crossing. We motion to him, he comes over and we confer. He decides to cross and after doing so, doesn't think we can make it from that spot. The water is hip deep. We go further upstream, and manage to get across 2/3's of the river, but the last section is so fast and furious, we eye it some more. The lone guy points to various places, and then goes back in, maybe to help us, maybe to check the levels… he loses his footing, and almost goes downstream. he heads back to shore and resorts to pointing again, until we all agree on a seemingly flat area (there must be rocks and it must be shallow!). We unlatch our packs, and he watches as we tentatively take our first steps. there is no speaking. we are terrified, and the roar is deafening.
Connor and I link arms and cross with a forward shuffle step as we have been instructed by the guy at Timberline. She is stable and balanced. I am not. We step into the current. it is at our thigh level, full throttle and hitting us with its mighty power. We struggle to keep our footing and balance, trying to lean into the current. A wrong step will send us down the river and certain death.
I lose my balance several times but Connor is stable and somehow keeps us upright. I step on her foot. I'm screaming, "DONT MOVE DONT MOVE DONT MOVE DONT MOVE", then "GO GO GO GO GO". When our feet are close together we are at the mercy of the raging river. When our feet are apart, we are balanced but also like tree twigs instead of trunks. There is no stability, no mercy. I lose my balance once and I know it is the end. I can feel the gravity pulling me backward, but in one split instant, Connor is able to pull me forward. terrified we continue, and somehow we make it across. The young guy disappears in the mist. we are alone again, wet, sopping and shocked to still be alive.
No comments:
Post a Comment