This was another "It seemed like a great idea!" Early hints of summer were in the air. My staff brothers and I were itching to get to camp. We were not yet directors, not that high on the totem pole. Jim was packout cook. I was trading post director: a glorified operator who was not summoned for the coveted directors week that year. And Dan was, well, I don't actually remember what Dan's job was that summer except that he slept on the couch in Hamma instead of the quarters he was assigned. He also had a lot of free time because one morning he helped me rescue a rowboat off Mystery Beach. For some reason this took us an entire hour.
Anyway, getting back to hiking. The three of us had a great idea: get to camp when all the directors arrived. Move into our quarters and scour the rest of camp for the best furniture to “trade.” Throw our backpacking gear in the car and hit the trail for an overnight before returning to camp for staff week. Simple, right? Back then I was such an amateur. I didn’t realize there was a difference between athletic gear and outdoor gear. My pack was my mom’s from the 70s, featuring a waist strap with no padding. Jim and Dan, being real boy scouts, knew more of what they were doing. Or so they told me.
We were only going out for one night, so I decided not to bother with a stove. Instead I packed granola bars, fruit, snacks, and FOUR bagels with peanut butter and jelly. This seemed like a great idea at the time: a great source of protein for lunch, dinner, breakfast, and then lunch again the next day. Jim said we could all use his water purifier, so as far as I knew, we were all set.
We told Ken of our plans: drive to the Dose, hike up several miles, find a nice spot, and spend the night.
“Dose’s closed,” Ken said, a man of few words. “Better go to the Duck.”
Oh dear: the duck. Dosewallips, while it heads up of course, is gentle and meandering. The Duck, a similar trail which follows a major ONP river, is more challenging. Shortly after leaving the trailhead, it heads up and over two rises known as “Little Hump,” and “Big Hump,” respectively. Ugh!
Oh well. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
We set out, optimistic in the car. The weather was good and our spirits were high. We drove south down 101, past the Girl Scout camp, and up to the trailhead. As we started hiking, we talked and joked. Most of our discussions centered around gossip of the upcoming summer: who’s working where, what changes to program will be happening, who did what over the offseason. We were camp staffers at heart. In particular, I asked Dan about a thousand questions about running the trading post, because he had done it the year before.
Soon the trail turned uphill and we began to climb. Up and up and up. It was relentless! I was in pretty good shape, but it wasn’t before long that the muscles in my legs were begging for mercy. Too proud to say anything, I hiked along closely behind the other two. As always with being “the girl at a boy scout camp” I was determined not to be a wuss. Finally, gasping for breath I asked Jim, “How are you doing up there?” He turned his head around to me as he walked. His face was BEET read and sweat was pouring off of his face and from under his baseball cap! He said something like “I’m exhausted!” To which I thought “Thank you LORD I’m not the only one dyin’ here!” We took a few breaks and finally, finally, got to a good spot just beyond Big Hump to camp. We set up the tent and, even though it was only about 2 in the afternoon, all three of us collapsed in the tent and slept for two hours!
When we got up, Jim set up his stove and cooked a can of chili. “I always try to eat a hot meal on the trail,” he said. I don’t remember what Dan ate, but I remember looking mournfully at my bagel with peanut butter wishing I had packed something (anything!) else. We feel asleep late that night under the stars with the roar of the river right outside our tent.
The next morning we slept late, ate breakfast (another bagel for me!) and hiked down to the car. Our night in the wilderness, though not without its imperfections, was the perfect warm-up for what was to be a great summer on Parsons staff.
Anyway, getting back to hiking. The three of us had a great idea: get to camp when all the directors arrived. Move into our quarters and scour the rest of camp for the best furniture to “trade.” Throw our backpacking gear in the car and hit the trail for an overnight before returning to camp for staff week. Simple, right? Back then I was such an amateur. I didn’t realize there was a difference between athletic gear and outdoor gear. My pack was my mom’s from the 70s, featuring a waist strap with no padding. Jim and Dan, being real boy scouts, knew more of what they were doing. Or so they told me.
We were only going out for one night, so I decided not to bother with a stove. Instead I packed granola bars, fruit, snacks, and FOUR bagels with peanut butter and jelly. This seemed like a great idea at the time: a great source of protein for lunch, dinner, breakfast, and then lunch again the next day. Jim said we could all use his water purifier, so as far as I knew, we were all set.
We told Ken of our plans: drive to the Dose, hike up several miles, find a nice spot, and spend the night.
“Dose’s closed,” Ken said, a man of few words. “Better go to the Duck.”
Oh dear: the duck. Dosewallips, while it heads up of course, is gentle and meandering. The Duck, a similar trail which follows a major ONP river, is more challenging. Shortly after leaving the trailhead, it heads up and over two rises known as “Little Hump,” and “Big Hump,” respectively. Ugh!
Oh well. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
We set out, optimistic in the car. The weather was good and our spirits were high. We drove south down 101, past the Girl Scout camp, and up to the trailhead. As we started hiking, we talked and joked. Most of our discussions centered around gossip of the upcoming summer: who’s working where, what changes to program will be happening, who did what over the offseason. We were camp staffers at heart. In particular, I asked Dan about a thousand questions about running the trading post, because he had done it the year before.
Soon the trail turned uphill and we began to climb. Up and up and up. It was relentless! I was in pretty good shape, but it wasn’t before long that the muscles in my legs were begging for mercy. Too proud to say anything, I hiked along closely behind the other two. As always with being “the girl at a boy scout camp” I was determined not to be a wuss. Finally, gasping for breath I asked Jim, “How are you doing up there?” He turned his head around to me as he walked. His face was BEET read and sweat was pouring off of his face and from under his baseball cap! He said something like “I’m exhausted!” To which I thought “Thank you LORD I’m not the only one dyin’ here!” We took a few breaks and finally, finally, got to a good spot just beyond Big Hump to camp. We set up the tent and, even though it was only about 2 in the afternoon, all three of us collapsed in the tent and slept for two hours!
When we got up, Jim set up his stove and cooked a can of chili. “I always try to eat a hot meal on the trail,” he said. I don’t remember what Dan ate, but I remember looking mournfully at my bagel with peanut butter wishing I had packed something (anything!) else. We feel asleep late that night under the stars with the roar of the river right outside our tent.
The next morning we slept late, ate breakfast (another bagel for me!) and hiked down to the car. Our night in the wilderness, though not without its imperfections, was the perfect warm-up for what was to be a great summer on Parsons staff.
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