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Winterim 2006: Ten students and faculty travelled to the Ochoco Mountains of Oregon and skied through untracked powder in cold conditions. The group stayed at a warm Forest Service cabin.
Ochoco Mountains ski and snowshoe adventure
Our backcountry skiing winterim began way too early on the morning of February 15th 2006. We loaded the bus, cracked out the Oreos and began our long drive to Prineville Oregon. Ana slept as we ascended Mt. Hood and woke only when we stopped in Welches to rent our skis and snowshoes. The excitement level jumped as we traveled further; the air became nippy and the snow deeper. When we arrived, Ana jumped out of the bus yelling incoherently, as we followed we noticed she was pointing at a cat in this tree. The cat began climbing backwards down the tree and jumped into her arms. We unpacked and got out our skis thinking we could just ski on the road for awhile, we were wrong. As soon as we got to the road we realized that it had just been plowed and we would ruin our skis if we continued, so Greg jumped over the pile of snow on the side of the road and we all followed him because he was the titular head and was supposed to know what he was doing. But he didn’t and we split up because it was a very steep hill and some of us couldn’t get up the hill. Greg and Peter ended up going and getting the bus and we drove up where the snow plow had stopped and got out and started skiing. We stopped at this big hill and a bunch of us climbed up the hill and jumped/rolled down. Then we continued on a bit and drove back to the cabin. We had a fiesta dinner. The next day we went to a snow park and our goal was to ski to some crazy meadow that Peter found on the map. “oh come on guys, its only a couple miles away” but no. We skied for 5 hours and never even made it to the meadow. We went down some really steep hills in the beginning and Peter S., Mandy and Cristin decided to go another way. I cannot tell you what they did, but we continued down the hills into this valley. One of the most memorable moments was when we had come to a log in the path; Ana and Peter decided to just go over but we would have had to wait forever so I started up the hill with Ian, Greg, William and Jack. We made it over the place with the log and Ian went down. I followed him but crashed right into a tree well and was stuck. Jack had made it down by then too and he unhooked his skis and came over to help me out. But William had decided that he was going to come down right where I did too, and he crashed in to the tree and me. Greg then, despite the warnings of Peter and Ana came down too, saying “oh no, I won’t hit them” but he did. So now me, Jack, William and Greg, were smashed up into this tree. It took a while to get unstuck but we continued and crossed a very little frozen creek, and up to a road. We followed the road for what seemed like hours and finally we saw all of the meadow that we would ever see. About ½ a foot by 1 foot through some trees, but none of us I think felt any disappointment because we had come so far. The trek back was pretty hard for me at least, but we kept talking and that talking took my mind off of the physical pain in my legs and well I guess if I could have felt my fingers it would have taken my mind off of that too. We were taking a water/Gatorade break and for some reason talking about Günter (pronounced goon-thur), some weird rock climber I think, when apparently I said “he is so hot” but I swear that I didn’t! Then we continued on the road; Peter got out his GPS and informed us that we could continue 2.5 miles down the road or go up this steep hill right to the bus. Everyone ran up the hill and packed our stuff onto the bus and left to go pick up Mandy, Peter and Cristin. On the way down, Ian got on the radio and yelled “The goose cannot land, the goose cannot land!” but we stopped and picked up our remaining team-members and traveled home. We had soup dinner with grilled cheese sandwiches. The next day we decided to do some snowshoeing because it was our last day to do any snow activities; we went out to some lake and snow-shoed around it but it was so cold and windy that we decided that we needed to do something else and had a snowshoeing Olympics. William amazed everyone by beating Ian and Greg in the front-ways running but he still refuses to do track. Then we went to the cabin and left Mandy, Cristin, and Ana there (because they wanted too) and went out skiing or snowshoeing again. We went up this path and then up off the trail to this really steep hill, which we climbed up and then found this really cool bowl which we (being Ian, Peter, Peter and me, cause we were the only ones with skis) skied down and in. It was really hard both hard to ski down and hard to fall on; but it was probably one of the most fun times I had on the trip. We then continued because Greg was getting a little antsy and was going on without us and went further up the road to this big hill which went down to a little mine we found out later. The only building we could see from the road had was covered with a thick layer of snow and surrounded all the way to the eves with snow. We would have liked to continue on into the woods and ski some more but the sun was beginning to set and so we skied up the hill again and began our decent. Going down that hill was also a lot of fun but that day was the coldest of them all, and my gloves were freezing even with my hands in them. Peter then stopped really suddenly and told Ian to fall over, and so he did and Ian threw himself into the pile of snow on the side of the trail. The snowshoers (I don’t think that is a word) were coming down the trail and Peter yelled to them that Ian had fallen and broken his leg and I started fake crying and we all decided that our best course of action was to build a fire. (If you haven’t gotten it yet, this was all just to see if we could build a fire in the snow) So we gathered things that we thought we would need, including little twigs, dry if possible, and needles, and moss. Jack got out his water-poof matches and after one feeble attempt we got a nice fire going and it was actually quite warm. Then we stood around and talked until the sun was very close to being gone and we skied down the rest of the hill, got on the bus and went home. Then for the final night, we had lasagna of which William had the most. The next day we packed, cleaned and loaded for about 2 hours and drove home. OOH! I forgot to mention that every morning the bus wouldn’t start and so we would have to call Catlin and ask them how to start it. They said that we had to find some cord and plug on the front of the bus and plug it in every night because it was the starter that was just too cold for it to start the bus. So William and I went out after dinner the second night and we (meaning him) stuck his hand in the front of the bus and wiggled it around until we found the plug. Then the bus worked. But on the ride home we played this game that Cristin started where you go around and say animals that start with a certain letter until someone can’t think of one and then we go to the next letter. Jack was probably the most memorable because we would be on ‘p’ or something and he would whisper to Ian, his team member something and Ian would make a funny face and say, “Jack! No wrong letter.” I also forgot to mention our card games every night because those were also a huge part of the trip because we really got to find out about each other. We mostly played caca however hearts became a favorite among many of us and I just have to say that I shot the moon. Then there was a spoons competition, which I won. This trip was a lot of fun, it was my first outdoor trip at Catlin and I don’t think that it could have been any better. The skiing was fun even though I was very sore for the rest of the weekend.
Middle School Ropes Course
Students from Catlin Gabel's Middle School traveled to the Ropes and Challenge Course at OES on February 27th. The group spent the entire day trying their hands at group and individual challenges.
Middle School Ropes Course
Students from Catlin Gabels Middle School traveled to the Ropes and Challenge Course at OES on February 27th. The group spent the entire day trying their hands at group and individual challenges.
Deschutes River Rafting October 2005
Surviving the Deschutes River
By Rob Bishop
Deschutes River Rafting October 2005
Surviving the Deschutes River
By Rob Bishop
We left the school on the morning of the 22nd of October. After riding on bus to the Warm Springs put in, we met with our river guides. We loaded five rafts in the glorious sunshine and set off for the Whiskey Dick camp site. Whiskey Dick, as our guide told us, lived on the river for twenty years. He lived on nothing but what he could find in the environment. Well, almost. On the first day of rafting, we didn’t encounter any major rapids and focused mainly on team building. After putting the freshman to bed at a respectable time of 5:30 p.m., we commandeered a passing merchant ship with an inattentive captain and sailed down Ricochet River. The next day we floated through White Horse Rapids and Buckskin Mary. White Horse falls in the category of a class 4 rapid and is known as the hardest and longest rapid chain of the Deschutes. It also contains the infamous “Oh S---!” rock, named for the words most rafters use when they first see it. After White Horse, we spent the rest of the day at various spots where we stopped and took little hikes or climbs. It was on one of these short hikes where we found the evidence of a long missing leprechaun, magic bumble bee - fat Oprah. We spent the second night just downstream from a small fishing community named Dant. That night, in honor of Sam’s 17th Birthday, we made him Cheese Cake and gave him our mediocre presents. On the third and final day of our journey we celebrated the 14th birthday of Johnny by letting him skipper us through the other big rapids of the Deschutes. This included Boxcar, Oak Springs, and Falafel. Ah, to be 14 again. Each rapid had its challenges and were all very exciting. The effort was accompanied by disconcerting chants of “Little Debbie”. We took out below Maupin and drove back in time for the seniors to make their dinner plans. Each day we covered about 20 miles, a leisurely pace that gave us time to stop and get a feel for the environment outside of the River.
|Ahhh, the trip is over....|
Exploring the caves of SW Washington
A group of nineteen Middle School students and leaders set off from Catlin Gabel School on October 20 to explore the lava tubes near Trout Lake, Washington. We drove the two hours in a fine yellow bus before stopping at Cheese Cave. The students explored this complex lava tube both north and south from the entrance. The cave had been used to store cheese in past years. From here the group spent the rest of the day looking for the elusive "Jug Cave".
Exploring the caves of SW Washington
A group of nineteen Middle School students and leaders set off from Catlin Gabel School on October 20 to explore the lava tubes near Trout Lake, Washington. We drove the two hours in a fine yellow bus before stopping at Cheese Cave. The students explored this complex lava tube both north and south from the entrance. The cave had been used to store cheese in past years. From here the group spent the rest of the day looking for the elusive "Jug Cave". Although we never found our quarry, we did come across some lava bridges and a long cave that took us deep into the woods. That night was spent in the Klickitat County Park in Trout Lake where we feasted on burritoes.
The next day we made a leisurely break from camp and went off to explore New Cave. Although we found the cave easily, we were surprised and pleased to discover some unexpected caves and sinks to the west. One of these was half a mile long and took us through some unexpected challenges. It was mid afternoon when we again saw daylight. After a lunch that included orange cupcakes we set off for home.
North Cascades Climbing Trip -- July 2005
Trip Report by Sam Alden
Photos by Peter Green
Trip Report - - - Trip Photos: In Chronological order
|"Hey you guys, theres a stairway we could have taken right here"|
|Hmmm. I wonder if this would be a good place for a smoke break...|
|We arrived at the Watson Lakes trailhead with the subtlety of a school bus in the wilderness|
|These packs are kind of big, arent they?|
|Watson Lakes: Our campsite was on the shore of the far lake.|
|I dont remember that spaghetti sauce being there... is this a joke or something?|
|This place is kind of nice after all|
|Im sure I was wearing shoes on the hike in...|
|Our dedicated trip staff|
|Morning at Watson Lake|
|Were climbing a mountain today? I dont think we got that memo|
|The intrepid team|
|"Mountain climbing seemed easy, at least on paper. And where did I put that helmet?"|
|Mt. Watson from Watson Lake|
|"Is anyone else seeing these clouds coming in?"|
|"You know, this is a good place"|
|Roping up on the glacier|
|"you know, I dont really miss the homework"|
|"This place is very different from my home"|
|Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain|
|"Just how deep are these crevasses you speak of?"|
|Climbing would be such a fine and glorious sport if it werent for all that climbing|
|"Trees at the top of the glacier. Go figure."|
|"No, I think it would be best if I just waited right here while someone else leads the summit pitch"|
|"These cotton pants work really well when its not raining"|
|No, dont worry about me. Ill just lead the summit pinnacle wearing these oversized plastic boots and maybe a light sweater and some gym shorts. Im sure it wont rain"|
|Patience is the watchword on climbing expeditions|
|"The rope is running through the heather. Im climbing on bushes"|
|"So, its pretty much raining"|
|"What better way to experience the true greatness of the North Cascades!!"|
|"Im sure it will let up any second"|
|The rain didnt deter the group: Everyone summited!"|
|"You know it is getting kind of cold. Why not build a fire?"|
|Sometimes a fire needs a little help|
|"If I dont make it home, tell my brother he can have all my possessions, but not my room"|
|Making our way to the west summit|
|The route wasnt so obvious, but we made it to the top of the west peak too!|
|"This is the kind of thing I try to avoid"|
|"Youre right, I think it is beginning to clear up. I can see my hand"|
|And the rain let up!|
|Off with the harnesses|
|Basecamp is a good place|
PHOTOS CONTINUE BELOW
North Cascades Mountaineering Trip:
The confessions of a non-climber
By Sam Alden
My first twinge of fear occurred watching the instructional video that would prepare us for our backpacking trip into the North Cascades. The video explained how to walk across a glacier, catch yourself from sliding down an incline, et cetera. Judging from the first fifteen minutes of the movie, one would guess that scaling a mountain entailed mostly light hiking up gentle, snowy hills. The next segment of the video, however, dealt with crevasses. I watched in horror as the actors cheerfully hopped over gaping, icy ravines, before turning towards the camera to remark, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Clearly, I realized, I was approaching a steep learning curve.
Nevertheless, I showed up at Catlin the day of the departure, ready to take risks and expand my horizons. We loaded our equipment onto the bus and set off on the six-hour drive into Washington. The ride would have been intolerable if not for Ian’s thoughtful purchase of a cassette by ‘The Cars’, which repeated over and over until we finally arrived at the trailhead. After I received my fair portion of the food and gear to carry, I started off with everyone else up the trail. I felt, momentarily, free of cynicism. I was excited about this trip, and I would come out of it with a completely new life experience. Predictably, though, it was replaced with the sensation of a Beluga-sized pack crushing me from above, and the knowledge that this hill wound upwards for miles more. I groaned to myself and struggled on.
Hours later, we arrived at our first campsite, situated picturesquely on the shores of Lake Watson. Slapping away mosquitoes, we assembled our tents and ate a surprisingly good dinner (Peter urged us to eat more than usual, because we had brought too much food) and went to bed. Having survived the strenuous backpacking, I counted the day a success.
The next morning, we set out to summit Mount Watson. Loading up small day packs with our snow clothes and helmets, we began to hike through bushes and mud towards the mountain. At some point, the trail we followed fizzled out, or else led in the wrong direction, because soon we were pushing our own paths through the tall grass. The greenery abruptly ended at the foot of a massive, steep incline of skull-shaped rocks. Climbing up, our feet twisted underneath us as rocks shifted, and more tumbled from above, disturbed by other hikers. At the top I caught my breath with the rest of the hikers, trading energy bars and gulping water. We had come to a clear transition point. Behind us, a sharp descent into the treeline- ahead of us, ending at our feet, was a giant glacier sloping up towards the top of the mountain. We hefted our ice axes and began to tramp up the shallow slope. It reminded me of the first half of the instructional video, and hoped that this would constitute the rest of the way to the top. But, as we reached the crest of a hill, we suddenly saw the peak of the mountain ahead of us. Stretching between us and the summit lay an open glacier, angling down gracefully to end in a dizzying cliff. This was exactly what I had feared from the beginning.
The group roped up into three groups and started slowly off. Once I got directly over the drop-off, I abruptly became aware of the delicacy of my predicament. How long could I keep from losing my footing on this white, slippery hell of a glacier? It became harder and harder to breath normally. Inside, I cursed Emily Jones for encouraging me to move outside of my comfort zone. I had never experienced such intense, pulse-pounding terror in my life.
“Hey, I can hear running water underneath us!” somebody yelled conversationally from up ahead.
“It’s probably nothing,” said someone else behind me. I started to write out my will in my head.
At long last, I reached the cap of rock at the peak of the mountain where the rest of the hikers had gathered. We weren’t far from the summit, but it was all vertical distance and so we had to wait while Olivia went up to secure a rope. We waited there on the rocks for over an hour and slowly consumed every scrap of food that we had brought with us. I lay comatose on the ground for much of it, trying to dream up some situation that would require a helicopter to airlift me off the mountain. I had stretched enough horizons for one day, and I wasn’t planning to rush up to the summit any time soon. At this point, a cloud swept over us from the west and it began to rain. Frankly, things looked grim.
Peter Green, bless his soul, agreed to make the ascent up to the summit alongside me. It was less of a rock climbing ordeal than a crazy scramble over slippery boulders and underbrush. At one point we paused to inspect a microwave-sized rock suspended over our heads, by some miracle of erosion, with nothing but some mud and loose stones. Truly, this trip opened my eyes to the constant wonders of nature. Finally, we made it up to the summit, a rocky crown surrounded by cloud on all sides. The fact that I was now on top of the highest object for miles around mattered less to me than getting under the yellow tarp someone had brought up and trying to sleep. I waited there for about an hour before we could go back down again, I found the descent much less terrifying, although I refused to admit it. I had by now entered a sort of pessimistic sulk, and would not allow myself to think of this as anything better than the most miserable experience of my life. And so I sat at the bottom of the rock peak, waiting for everyone else to summit Mount Watson, and froze and was crabby. My mood improved briefly as Peter lit a fire using the soggy twigs at our disposal –after failing to light it with a lighter alone, he held the open flame over a stream of bug spray and created a miniature blowtorch. But even that entertained me only briefly. I’ll admit it- I had a very bad attitude about this trip already, and it was only the second day.
Finally, we packed up and began the trek back down the glacier. I maintained my composure better this time, due in large part to the cloud cover blocking my view of the cliff. By nightfall we had returned to camp, and quickly ate dinner and fell into bed.
In the morning, we discussed our next course of action over breakfast. We could wake up at four the next morning and then march on to summit Mount Bacon, a twenty-hour round trip. The other option was to move camp one day and then summit Mount Tomyhoi the day after. After my ordeal that day, I opted for the less arduous of the trips and voted for Tomyhoi- the majority of the campers agreed with me. It meant, though, that Day Three passed by relatively uneventfully. I went on a short day hike with about half the camp, and then returned for dinner. I admit to spending much of the time contemplating that the trip was almost half-over.
|The beauty of the wilderness|
|"I am very full"|
|"Whos ready for another?"|
|The dishwashers: Now where was that lake?|
|The master drummer|
|Rest day and a picnic at Anderson Lakes|
|Some went on a day hike even on their rest day|
|The sun came out and the gear got dry|
|Knot tying for fun and profit|
|Oh, look at the little bunny.|
|Let me see now, does a straight beat a flush or is it the other way around? Wait, all the spoons are gone!|
|On Day 4 we MOVED CAMP and set ourselves a new obective: To hike into Yellow Aster Meadows and attempt Mt. Tomyhoi.|
|It was hot and the hike was kind of hard - but you cant keep good people from smiling and having a good time|
The next day, we packed up all our tents and food and headed back down the trail towards the bus. I found that the backpacking aspect of the trip was growing more and more natural to me, and I no longer struggled to keep up with the others. I found that I could sustain a certain pattern of breathing and walking for considerable lengths of time without tiring, and I actually enjoyed the walk back. After loading the gear onto the bus, we piled in and drove off to another trailhead. The hike was aggressively uphill, and the sun had taken this opportune moment to leave its cloud cover and beat down upon us with unprecedented fervor. The trail leveled out for a while as it wound around a valley basin, before leading up again into sparse, dry countryside. Gasping for breath, we abruptly paused in our climb to find ourselves at the top of a cliff, with the campsite far below us. An amazingly steep cutback trail led down the cliff face to the rocky terrain where we would pitch our tents. I dumped my pack on a boulder and ran off to join the rest of the hikers in a small pool of freezing mountain water.
This campsite was situated on a little grassy area in the midst of a field of stones. On one side loomed the cliff we had come down, while on the other a series of hills rolled off into the distance. We started up the hills the next morning, off to summit Tomyhoi. Unlike our experience with Watson, the hike to the mountain itself took up a major portion of the day. We paused at one point to look over into Canada on the other side of a mountain ridge.
|Ah, Mt. Baker, our constant companion|
|Taking a break|
|Its a breathtaking trail|
|Not a bad basecamp for our attempt the next day|
|You know, I kind of like this climbing thing...|
|"Bro, can I tell you something? I dont really know what to do with myself if I dont have homework"|
|"Swimming in lakes, climbing mountains, this is what growing up is supposed to be"|
|"Why dont I just go ahead and finish this off?"|
|"Tell me again why were leaving?"|
|"Youre right, we dont need to stake down the tents"|
|Starting the climb, looking back at basecamp|
At some point we came upon Mount Tomyhoi, and were confronted with- yes- another glacier. This one was bigger, and the cliff much farther off- but at the same time, the slope we would cross it at was closer to vertical than horizontal. I stomped through it with some amount of confidence. Eating snow, I found, distracted me enough from the matter at hand to keep me from panicking. Mount Tomyhoi rose up in a ridge, rather than the traditional cone. As a result of this, we found ourselves moving up from point to point along the mountain, with ropes stretched in between. Sometimes the other station was not even visible, around a corner or over a ledge. In between climbing we waited for hours in the wind and sun, receiving only a faint idea of what lay ahead from the intermittent radio signals. I had little problem, for the most part, until we arrived at the foot of a large rock face. The climbing looked relatively easy for the majority of the ascent, but at the very top we would have to clamber over a boulder that jutted out over the edge. I waited for my turn t come, again wary of the climb. Once again, however, Peter Green was kind enough to go up with me. I admit to being a complete wuss about climbing. When I finally screwed up my courage and began it, though, I managed to get up the entire cliff with very little effort. I felt like turning to a non-existent camera and remarking cheerily, “That wasn’t so bad!” And bolstering my confidence still further was the fact that now, for the first time, I could see the summit. Peter and I scrambled up the short path up to the top, and suddenly we were there.
The only way I can describe the sight is by saying that for the first time, I became truly aware of the limitations of my eyes. Set into sockets in my skull, they reveal to me only about 180˚ of vision- less than that, even. The panorama in front of me (and to the left, and the right, and behind me) was just too vast to take in from only one vantage point. I needed duel IMAX screens in my head. I could see Canada to the right of me, and way in the distance the Puget Sound on my left. Behind me were nothing but mountains, and in front of me they ended abruptly in green hills and farmland. Mount Tomyhoi seemed to be a convergence point of sorts, geographically and politically. I clambered back down with genuine confidence.
|We crossed the high alps for over a mile|
|What a team!|
|Higher and higher toward our goal|
|Getting ready to rope up|
|Taking a wee rest as we near the final ridge|
|Now it gets a little complicated... we must be climbing!|
|Investigating the glacier as a possible descent route. No go.|
|Climbers on the summit pinnacle|
|The summit of Mt. Tomyhoi - July 18, 2005|
|On the summit!|
|Waiting, waiting, waiting at the col. Perfect weather for a nap.|
|Roped up on the summit ridge|
|A disreputable pair on the top of this noble peak|
|Seth regains the summit ridge. He is wearing an orange pack on his back.|
|"Wow, I cant believe places like this exist"|
|A pleasant walk back down to basecamp|
|Alpenglow on Mt. Baker|
On the way back to camp, we faced some significant setbacks. Someone dropped Peter’s pack off a cliff, and it took both ropes and a few hours to climb down and retrieve. As if that weren’t enough, when we finally arrived at camp two of the tents had blown away in high winds. One of them (mine, thankfully) got snagged in a cluster of trees and didn’t fall into the ravine. The other tent, however, landed squarely in the stream at the bottom. However, the day ended well as we used up all our food in one fell swoop, gorging ourselves on a sprawling bonanza of ramen, pasta and soup.
I came away from the trip with a real appreciation of the exhilaration of hiking and rock-climbing, despite my initial anxiety. I found that it really does pay off to take risks and broaden horizons, and I recommend this trip to anybody not interested in climbing mountains.
San Juan Islands Bicycle Trip
This past June seven students and three adult leaders travelled to the San Juan Islands of Washington.
San Juan Islands Bicycle Trip
This past June seven students and three adult leaders travelled to the San Juan Islands of Washington. During the six day trip the team visited different islands, swam, boated, hiked and explored. The students carried all of their personal gear, and most of the cooking supplies and food on their bicycles.
Day 1: We drove to Anacortes from Portland and boarded the ferry "Yakima" for Orcas Island. Once there we biked twelve miles to Indian Point, where we were the guests of Bill Horder. Bill joined us for most of the rest of the trip. The first leg of the trip was difficult. Thats when we learned how to pull the trailer and how to pack all of our gear so it wouldnt fall off the bicycles. Once at Indian Point we set up camp near a small lake, and cooked next to the beach.
Day 2: We biked over to a large farm owned by Jack and Jan Helsell. Much of the morning was spent jumping into piles of hay from prodigious heights in the barn. We hiked to the summit of Turtlehead Mountain (Orcas Knob) and ate a scenic lunch. From here we went to a beautiful lake on the Helsell property. The group was split into two teams for some intense competition involving a swimming, rowing and bicycle race. It was a thrilling race with the winning team coming in ahead of the second place team by mere seconds. That night many students slept out under the stars.
Day 3: We had spam and pancakes for breakfast and headed off on the challenging bike across Orcas Island and up to Moran State Park. The group stopped in Eastsound for lunch and began the long climb more than half way up Mt. Constitution to Mountain Lake. One of the students made it the entire way without stopping for a rest. We stayed in a scenic site right on the lakes shore that night and had smores around the campfire.
Day 4: Rain greeted us in the morning, our first (and only) rain of the trip. Most of the day was spent in a rustic log shelter in front of a roaring fire playing ca-ca and listening to stories. Once the rain let up we played some challenge games and made a hike up to the "Little Summit" on Mt. Constitution. After a dinner of hamburgers we played three intense games of capture the flag in the old growth forest near the lake.
Day 5: A thrilling ride all the way down to eastsound highlighted the morning. We spent an hour in a used bookstore where almost everyone found something to buy. From there we travelled the length of the island to the Orcas ferry landing. By now we were seasoned bicyclists and the going was easy. We jumped on board the ferry for the short ride to Shaw island. What a delightful place Shaw is. Without the constant traffic of Orcas Island to rattle our nerves we had a relaxing ride to Indian Cove County Park. Once again we camped next to the ocean. Most of the afternoon was spent playing memorable games of Ultimate Frisbee and Kick the Can. After dinner that night everyone slept under the stars and watched as the glowing ferries sailed past in the dark.
Day 6: We packed up early and rode to the Shaw Island ferry landing. Breakfast consisted of muffins, fruit and juice bought from the general store at the landing. We were back at Anacortes by noon and boarded the yellow bus for the long ride back to Portland.
Willamette River Canoe Trip, Earth Day 2005
A group of over 20 Middle School students and staff spent a beautiful day canoeing on the Willamette River as part of their Earth Day observance. The trip was led by staff from Willamette Riverkeepers, who provided the canoes as well.
We travelled upriver to Ross Island and into the lagoon. Students saw a bald eagle and several great blue herons.
Lunch was the next stop at the far south end of the island. The paddle back downstream was less work, though one canoe did overturn, spilling its surprised crew into the river. They were soon safe and dry on a nearby dock, and everyone was back at the buses by 2:30 pm that day.
|Visiting the submarine at OMSI|
|Lets see who can hit the bridge!|
|In the lagoon|
|Canoeing through the city|
|Along the shores of Ross Island|
|A very capable crew|
Trip Photos and Reports
Molalla River Rafting and Hiking Adventure
Middle Schoolers from Catlin went on a full out adventure the weekend of April 9 and 10, 2005. The group drove to near the headwaters of the Molalla River and set up camp. The weather was fair the first day. That afternoon the team headed up the hill to attempt the hike in to Table Rock. Snow covered the trail within the first half mile, so the going was pretty tough. The high point was reached by about 3pm, and the group took a rest and ate frosted pop tarts.
|It was a bit chilly at the trailhead|
|A rest stop|
|Enjoying the wilderness experience|
|Bob Sauer led the way through the snow|
|Frosting the Pop Tarts|
|Making Snow Angels|
Thde group camped next to the Molalla River that night. Despite about an hours effort at gathering firewood, the wet conditions made it difficult to get the roaring blaze they wanted! Hamburgers, garden burgers, baked beans and salad were on the menu for dinner.
|Gathering wood for a fire|
|What a great hamburger - cooked by Helene and Abby!|
The next day everyone boarded the rafts and floated down the Molalla River. Rapids up to Class 3 were no match for the team, including Papa Bear, Mama Bear, Baby Bear, Goldilocks, and Porridge Bowl. Almost all the students were tossed (or slipped) out of the boats at one time or another, but everyone was laughing and screaming the whole way down.
|Getting geared up|
|Which way do we paddle?|
|The boat Captain|
|The river gets narrow|
|Explain this one, Mr. Geology|
|Skipper, were going under!|
|Warm and dry in the bus|
Deschutes River Rafting Trip April 24-26, 2005
Deschutes Trip Report
See photos below
Our adventurous Deschutes river rafting trip began Sunday April 24 at 8 am when we met at Catlin to head off on a bus to Warm Springs where we put in. The group immediately bonded as we spread out on the bus, and prepared for the two hour drive. Once we arrived in Warm Springs our guide, Seth, was waiting, ready with the rafts, equipment, and a stack of dry bags. Everyone crammed all the worldly possessions they would need for the next three days into a bag. We split (by birth date) into raft groups, were briefed on how not tolose our lives during the treacherous trip, and embarked on our voyage. We paddled downstream in cold overcast weather for a few hours through easy class I and II rapids, where people still managed to fall off the rafts, until we reached “Whisky Dick” where we would spend the night. After a short walk on the train tracks where we accidentally dropped pennies and pesos on the track to be squished by passing trains, we ate a filling dinner of Top Ramen and Tortillas, then settled down to sleep. As expected it started to rain at about two in the morning, but dried out again by morning. Our sumptuous feast of Cocoa and Oatmeal started the day, even after a mishap with cocoa boiling over and dousing a stove. We cleaned the stove, took the tents down, packed our bags, and loaded the boats, then headed off downstream. To start the day we had a class IV rapid named Whitehorse. We stopped to scout the upper part of the rapid, and easily got through without any mishaps. The sun came out about midday and swimming became a popular activity along with go fish and balancing on the tube of the boat while everyone else spins the raft trying to knock you off. Once we arrived at Buckskin Mary where we were to spend the night, a crazy group of adventurous youth decided to swim the rapid. Off they went and as we watched they thoroughly soaked themselves in the large waves, and somehow managed to have a really good time. Late that afternoon we set up a slack line (tight rope walking) and Ian Wayne remembered that it was his birthday so Olivia kindly made him two cherry cheese cakes. Still later in the afternoon we did some group bonding activities which included a trust fall, getting everyone in the group through a spiders web of nylon webbing between two trees, and creating an obstacle course using paddles. After a delicious feast again with a Mexican flair we left the camp to examine a cave and walk through a railroad tunnel to town (Dant) where you could take the small boat ferry across and walk downstream to our camp. The cave was a slight disappointment but upon returning to our side of the river a group left on a short evening walk to the cliffs above camp. The group discussed how we all preferred this to school, then headed back to camp. After cleaning up dinner we had some scrumptious cherry cheese cake and Ian did an admirable job blowing out the candles. Seeing as the weather had vastly improved many decided to sleep out in the open. I personally have not slept that well in months, most likely due to the hourly visits of trains with their super cool lights and screeching wheels, ten hours of sleep, and being exceptionally content with where I was. In the morning we finished off the cherry cheese cake with some more oatmeal and broke camp for the last time. With new raft groups we had to figure out how to maneuver due to some slightly more exciting rapids during the day. First we hit up Box Car after stopping to scout it. Then later we passed through Maupin and headed down towards what I consider the most exciting rapid of the whole trip, Oak Springs, about ¾ of a mile short of the take out. You drop about 7 feet through a 20 foot wide gap, into a big really wet wave, and if you’re really lucky you can get stuck on the rocks directly down stream and spend about 5 minutes trying to get off. We concluded our trip among some very cool rock formations, and then took out at Sandy Beach. The bus arrived shortly and we helped Seth clean and store the rafts, organize the gear, and load his van. We changed clothes, boarded the bus, and sadly headed back to Catlin with wicked sunburns, content minds, and dread of the homework that awaited.
|"Dude, have you ever tried to light a match on your braces?"|
|"We definitely did not bring enough Spam"|
Opal Creek is one of Oregons great treasures. This pristine watershed includes old growth forests, rugged terrain and crystal clear water. Students from Catlin Gabel spent three days hiking, swimming and camping along the shores of Opal Creek. Staff from the nearby Opal Creek Education Center spent a morning with the group dicussing the ecology of old growth forests.
Two teams of 8th, 9th and 10th graders set out to explore the Goat rocks Wilderness in mid June. It was showering when we packed up for the hike, which was definitely annoying. The hiking temperature was nice, though. The packs were inexplicably heavy. The first group set up camp at maybe 5750 feet in the meadows that are part of snowgrass flats. Our group went up to where the 96 trail meets the trail to Goat Lake and camped in a beautiful campsite at 6000 feet. It was clear of snow, the snowline was just at 6000 feet.
On the second day our group traveled mostly cross country and did a physically challenging ascent of Old Snowy: the first peak to be climbed by the new Catlin Gabel Outdoor Program. The weather was glorious on this day. The other group made the long trek to Cispus Pass, mostly over snow. They made an attempt to rendezvous with us at our camp on their return, but the snow obscured the trail and they lost their way. I think this was a challenging and rewarding day for both groups.
On the third day we awoke to cloudy skies, but the rain did not come. We packed up and hiked out, eventually meeting the other group at the main bridge over Snowgrass Creek. We drove the 3-4 hours back to Catlin Gabel and bid good bye to the group there.
Upper School Climbs Rooster Rock
A bold party of Catlin Gabel Upper Schoolers set out on April 11th to ascend one of Oregons landmark pinnacles: Rooster Rock in the Columbia Gorge. After discussing the history and naming of the prominent landmark, the party of six made the hazardous approach to its objective.
|Early painting of Rooster Rock. The route takes the dihedral in the center, moving up and right.|
|Approach Hike through the stinging nettles|
|Oooh Ben, do you think shorts are best idea?|
The climb of the spire itself involved two pitches of moderate rock climbing, up to 5.3. The rock is good in quality, since all the bad rock had been knocked off by earlier parties.
The team of six roped up at the base of the pillar. Olivia Miller led the first pitch to the two bolt anchor. The other five followed. It was a cramped belay ledge for six, but Olivia was soon on her way again, leading the second pitch.
|At the first belay station|
|The mossy beginning to the first pitch|
|On the first pitch|
|Belaying at the small belay ledge half way up the rock|
|High above the trees: Sarah Wolf|
|The views of the Columbia River are tremendous|
|What, theres more to go?|
The second pitch of Rooster Rock features fine climbing on easily protected rock. The exposure is a bit frightening, but the Catlin team made short work of it.
|Topping out! Interstate 84 in the distance|
|On top of Rooster Rock, April 11, 2005|