04.07.13 - 10:08 am

DAY 3

the alarm went off and i snapped to consciousness. i was still in a tent in the middle of nowhere. mike roused and started our morning routine of boiled water and coffee. i began stuffing my face with energy bars and snacks. i needed a good base layer of energy today.

it was 4:30 in the morning.

the sun was still an hour from rising. the silence and solitude around the tent was heavy as we disassembled and repacked our gear. the snow crunched. we had hoped it would have frozen during the night, allowing for substantially easier travel during the day. unfortunately this did not occur as hoped. crater lake would offer no favors.

the unobstructed silent expanse of the rim extended within my entire field of vision from this vantage point. even without the sun, there was a soft glow illuminating the features of the lake. there was always an incredible sense of wonder at something so large simply existing in this form in this modern age of rapid development. there were no hotels crowding the rim. no boats zipping around its waters. no beer cans and cigarette butts littering every step. in the dark, this was a magnificent refuge away from the world. and regardless of the wars in syria, unemployment and school shootings, this massive natural structure will continue to stir only in timeless silence.

headlamp on. 5 am. snow shoeing in the dark hundreds of miles from another human being. my right leg was sore at all times at this point. well not entire leg. just that critical point of my groin and hip. throughout the night, with every shift in position, a wild arc of pain would erupt waking me up into complete paralysis. i was forced to incorporate four advil into my breakfast routine. every step was uncomfortable. by evening it would feel as though i had severed critical muscles with an assortment of plastic utensils. with the pills, the pain was numbed just enough to allow my leg to lift and push. again and again. for ten to twelve hours a day.

this would be the day i finally pooped. it was incredibly unsatisfying. on a log, off the road. in the cold breezy silence seated on a downed tree. it wasn't much of a production, either due to the lack of excess nutrients or the humiliation of pooping in nature.

the trail today would pull us beyond the view of the lake. lots of dense trees and rocks. eventually we came to a crossing: we could either go left, down a clear trail described as The Avalanche Avoidance Safety Zone. or right, which lead up a very steep and treacherous (and i assumed avalanche riddled) path. naturally we chose potential death. yolo.

upward we went, one step at a time, my sled faithfully dragging behind me. this was an exhaustive elevation gain and as the trail lifted upward, less of it remained level. the snow drifts encroached upon the road, slowly persuading you, in the way only snow can, to fall off the cliff and die. as the trail was angled upward, the snow was angled perpendicular, and downward. the real danger here was irony. my livelihood, the pulk, could also be responsible for my death. while the snow sloped at steeper angles, gravity would begin pulling my sled downward, over the cliff to my left. mike was particularly vulnerable here because of how heavy his sled was in addition to its loose mounting ropes, which allowed his pulk to swing behind him far more easily than mine. if his started to migrate off the cliff, he would have no means of stopping it. hundreds of feet of falling. this is where my knuckles glowed white. my heart raced and a level of fear stirred that i rarely ever experience. were we just on snow shoes, this would have been no problem to steadily cruise over the drifts regardless of their perilous angles and make it through this daunting pass. but with the sleds as absolutes, we had no choice but to make this work.

the snow was out in full force, water poured from icicles and creaks and groans echoed from within the rocks to my right. i knew very little about identifying potential avalanches, but i knew how they formed. disregarding this, i imagined all this water going underneath us, under the trail and creating just the right circumstances to allow a huge layer of snow to be pulled from under me like a giant rug. or that the slope of snow i was walking across pillowed over the side of the cliff enough that with just the right amount of melt and pressure it would drop away and drag me with it. i was starving at this point, the climb and stress had put me in critical mode. but i couldn't stop and take breaks as i had earlier. to me, i had to get across this upward mile of road as fast as i could. the equivalent of snow shoe sprinting.

the path vanished under a steep dune of snow. forty five degrees of dense powder sloped to my left and directly off into nothing. there was no level pathway here. i was not standing straight, but leaning against the drift. this barrier had to be crossed. mike and i stewed about it for a few minutes before deciding i should go first.
my snow shoes had to grip at every step.
i couldn't stumble.
i couldn't trip over my own shoes.
the snow had to not break apart.
my sled had to stay directly behind me.
my poles had to be able to keep me in one place.
each one of those things had to happen and i could not convincingly believe all of them would. i made it only a few dozen steps when i slipped. i immediately fell to my knees, using them as spears into the snow, i shoved my poles down as deep as i could and froze. my sled shifted slightly downward like a lead anchor. i was overwhelmed with fear. i knew there wasn't going to be much anyone could do for me, i just needed a few minutes to get myself together, create my list of solutions and make a decision.

mike shouted. he was coming to help. relieved that i had support, but slightly embarrassed i wasn't given just thirty more seconds to begin my own rescue. he removed his sled, and allowed me to stand and move forward while he steadied my sled directly behind him. i was walking too fast for him to keep up and had to slow my frenzied pace. there was a patch of level snow up ahead to get to, this was my safe zone. when i finally stepped foot into it, when my sled was pushing me instead of pulling me there was overwhelming relief. i could breathe. i could release the death grip on my walking poles. i bent over with my hands on my knees and relaxed. but then i had to go back for mike.

he stood at the far end of the drift and we chewed on how best to get him and his sled across. it would be markedly more difficult with his heavier pulk. he knew this. he knew how dangerous it was. it was then we decided to dig a path. leaving our sleds behind, and starting from each end, we shoveled and stomped a hastily constructed road right through the middle of the snow drift. this too came with all sorts of perils that made me pee my pants a little. here we are carving out a path from a snow drift. in the sun. with our body weight huffing and puffing around. i anticipated any minute the sun would melt the snow just enough to break free from its once cemented position. hurling us over a cliff with a clean break from the trough we had just dug, like snapping fortune cookie. fortunately this did not happen. we stood with our shoes dug into the snow, heaving shovels of snow behind us off the cliff. i no longer carried my poles. my feet were less than 10 feet from the cliffs curved drop off. god only knows how far over the road this snow drift we stood on hung. when we had finished, a two foot wide road cut right through the middle of a mountain of precariously hanging cliff snow.

"some other snow shoers are going to be very happy to use this after us," mike would say as he briskly strode across his porcelain freeway.

"in retrospect, we probably should have done this for you too, this�this was pretty dangerous."

we would dig two safety corridors that day as we progressed up that vertical trail. it was one of the biggest rewards to find myself amongst trees and no longer precariously on the edge of a slippery, unpredictable cliff. i could stop. i could release the tiger grip from my ski poles. i could eat something to nourish what the adrenaline had burned away. truth be told, it was the most scared i had been in recent memory. the only other amount of fear experienced that could compare would be sitting on the edge of an open doorway on a plane 13000' feet in the air, and that brief one second of forward movement that changes everything.

soon after, we would pass a tree that had fallen fairly recently. snapped right in the middle like a matchstick and fallen conveniently into a Y shaped tree directly below it. the tree hit with such immense force that all of the branches and needles exploded off leaving a ravaged prickly spire.

this trail would eventually lead us to a very large open area, with a large ominous mountain in the distance. to me and the map, it appeared we needed to go around the outside of this mountain. i was not looking forward to it due to the immense size of its base, it appeared easily like a whole day would be spent circumnavigating it. mike was certain the trail passed in front of it. we took out the map and checked the gps a million times here. the winds were strong. it was cold. the surface of this place had been blasted smooth by the constant exposure to wind and ice. if there were any trail marking poles here, they were buried or blown off somewhere. no other part of the trek had looked so close to what i imagined antarctica to be like. frozen. barren. windy. snow taking on unique structures and shapes. we traveled mostly on hunches and intuition throughout this moonscape. a single cross country skier trail appeared after a lot of wandering, but a single pole provides very little sense of direction. peering through the wind to find the trail was difficult as it would often disappear and reappear substantially farther away going in the opposite direction. after semi circles and second guesses, we finally found an exposed section of pavement and were back on track.

the longer we tread, it did appear that we would cut out walking around the mountain all together and as we came off the top of the moonscape, the winds died down enough to reveal some additional human activity: snow shoe trails. recently created by the looks of it. we had crossed the half way mark and were now closing in on those who choose to tackle the crater counter clockwise. the sudden appearance of trails must have unlocked some hidden internal energy source because mike was increasingly gaining distance ahead of me. the trail found its way down a steep but gradual slope, and paired with the deep pre made footsteps allowed for easy and rapid travel. it was approaching dusk and i had burned myself out long ago, but withdrew into myself, focusing on every step ahead of me like i was once again the mechanical biped stomping towards an unreachable goal. it was here that i established what my own personal hell would include. a never ending quest. snow shoes. one foot and then another. endlessly trudging with pained discomfort. for all time. i can think of few other more torturous experiences that could displease me more than having to endlessly snow shoe with no clear idea of a goal or timeline of completion. my body used resentment as nutrition.

after 12 hours of snow shoeing and thousands of feet of elevation gain and losses, mike was off in the bushes preparing a tent site. oh thank god.