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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.
Bike Trip around Strawberry Mountain
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| Beautiful scenery, no cars, paved roads made for a perfect trip |
Strawberry Mountains Biking Trip June 2006
Our bike route began in Seneca, a small town 20 miles south of John Day. After a six hour bus ride from Portland, we were happy to set off on our adventure that would take us 80 miles around the beautiful Strawberry Mountains. Given the late hour of the day, we biked ten miles or so across the flat, grassy plains to Parish Cabin, where we spent the night.
The next day, we began our uphill climb, leaving the long grassy fields behind until midday. We rode across Logan Valley, an idyllic valley set against the Strawberry Mountain Wilderness Area. We rested and ate lunch at Summit Prairie. After catching our breath, we rode on to our new destination, Little Crane Creek campground. We had biked about 25 miles that day and gained about 1000 feet. At camp we relaxed, played cards, went swimming, and played ultimate frisbee. We even had the honor of being some of the first users of the new portapotty.
The next day we prepared ourselves for what we thought was to be an 8 mile, 1600-foot uphill climb, our hardest yet. To our relief, the climb was not so bad, as the incline was shallow. We reached the summit at around noon. There, we played lots of card games and shaded ourselves from the sun. While many relaxed, Ben Dair sprinted to the top of a large, steep hill from which he could see across the plains to John Day. Upon his return, we started our 2500-foot descent that would take us to Prairie City. As we descended, the environment dramatically changed from dense forest to open, grass-laden plains. We arrived at Prairie City, completing our 35-mile day. After perusing the town, we relaxed back at camp and enjoyed a refreshing dose of rootbeer. Later in the night, we took a pleasant walk through the graveyard and played another great game of ultimate frisbee under the stars.
We awoke early on the final day, packed up our gear, and ate Spam (tastes like cat food mixed with dog food) for our third day in a row. We left around 7:00 AM on our final 13-mile ride from Prairie City to John Day, where our bus (and another six hour, muggy bus ride) awaited. We were happy to avoid the heat of the day, but were sad to leave the Strawberry Mountains. Overall, we had a wonderful time at one of the most gorgeous locations in Oregon.
Rogue River Raft Trip June 2006
We met bright and early at 5 AM at Catlin. Amazingly, everyone was there by 5:05 AM. The five-hour bus ride provided a good opportunity to catch up on sleep. We arrived at the Rand boat launch at 10:30. We all transferred our clothes and sleeping bags to large dry bags, picked up our life jackets and helmets, and prepared to get on the river.
The stretch of the Rogue leading up to the Wild and Scenic section contains mainly class II rapids, with a couple III’s and one class V that we sneak around using the “Fish Ladder”. Our first challenge came at Grave Creek rapid, as there was a cross-wave about half way down that flipped a few of our kayakers. Aim your boat at the wave! This provided an opportunity to practice proper swimming techniques and some rescuing. At Rainey Falls, the Fish Ladder route is not really a fish ladder, but it is like one. It’s a narrow chute that drops in steps, with a couple big pillow-type rapids toward the bottom. Everyone navigated it well, and then we looked upstream at the huge Rainey Falls. We finished the day at Tyee rapid, a class III wavetrain with a bend to the left. Our campsite was at the bottom.
The weather was great, so no need for tents. We set up our cots and sleeping bags under the stars. After a hearty meal, we played tug of war while standing on ammo cans. Thalia and Jeff were pretty good at it. Pongi told some scary stories and her river front sleeping location became overcrowded with scared MS students.
Day 2: Wildcat Creek to Missouri Creek
We woke up around 7:30 AM, ate breakfast, and then broke camp. We rotated our kayakers to allow others to try the inflatable craft. Some liked to double-up in the kayaks. This day had the most rapids, and it started off quickly with Wildcat rapids (III). Upper and Lower Black Bar Falls provided some challenges, mainly for those who didn’t follow the directions “stay RIGHT”. We learned that following directions is a good strategy for avoiding swims, and often there is a very good reason why you don’t want to hit the “exciting” part of the river. There were a couple of jumping rocks that we stopped at. Pongi lost her watch jumping off one of them. Tara demonstrated an excellent ferry swim across the river while we watched other people jumping off the rock. Joseph and Helene tried their hands at captaining the paddle raft and oar raft.
We camped at Missouri Creek. In our free time, we waded in the eddy and washed off all that sunscreen. Card-playing, particularly Hearts, was popular, and a bit competitive at times. Nicholas and Robert took naps, though that didn’t work so well as they were next to the card players.
Day 3: Missouri Creek to Paradise Bar
This was the shortest paddling day, and there were some class IV sections that the students needed to ride the rafts for. We stopped for about an hour at the Rogue River Ranch. There is a small museum there with old photos, including ones from a flood that occurred awhile back. Mule Creek runs just below the ranch property, so we went down there and found another jumping rock.
The Rogue River was running at a higher level during this trip, so Mule Creek canyon wasn’t really that bad. Normally it is like a bubbling coffee pot (percolating), but due to the higher water, there wasn’t so much of that. Blossom Bar rapid is known for its “picket fence” hazard on the left side. As the kayakers waited in the eddy above, the paddle raft made its run. On the way through, the raft got jolted and went to the left. Luckily, the water was high enough that they were able to slip through the picket fence section. Jeff led the kayakers through the rapid (the CORRECT way), utilizing an eddy on the right side of the chute. The last major rapid was Devil’s Staircase. There was a big hole at the top, which some other commercial rafters ran through, but the real hazard was a swirling eddy half way down with the undercut rocks (the “Room of Doom”)! We all snuck around this rapid along the left edge.
We camped at Paradise Bar, near the Paradise Lodge. Robert demonstrated his natural abilities by scoring a hole-in-one in “cheek darts”. We saw a black bear a hundred yards or so downriver. More card games…hearts and Egyptian rat screw. We needed a lantern.
Day 4
The last stretch, leading up to the Foster Bar takeout, had more flat sections than the previous days. Tara and Helene spent time captaining rafts. There were a few good rapids though. Clay Hill rapid had a hole that spread about 2/3 across the river. The goal was to slip around it to the left. Chase and Gregor were perfectly lined up behind Jeff, but then stopped paddling. This caused them to drift sideways right into the hole and flip. Within the next 15-20 seconds, Jeff had collected both of their paddles, hauled Chase into the back of his kayak, and was yelling at Gregor to swim for an eddy. John Mills collected the empty kayak, and the boys went back for more punishment.
We arrived at the take-our around 1 PM. After a long shuttle ride back to Galice, we boarded our bus and we on own way by 4 PM. It was another long bus ride back to Portland, but we had our cards, snacks, and some good memories.
San Juan Sea Kayaking Trip: June 2006
A Completely Honest (and mostly truthful) Recap of the San Juan Islands Kayaking Trip.
By Tomas
The virus then undergoes rapid amplification, attacking all living cells in the host’s body. As the organs begin to dissolve, the organism begins to vomit Black Blood, or blood mixed with the pureed organs. As the amplification continues the Host’s face goes slack, the central nervous system has been dissolved, and his eyes turn into two bright glittering rubies. Now the Ebola Zaire virus begins its jump from host to host until… “NO no… you’ve got it all wrong. My level 64 Shaman would totally pwn (p-own) your nooblet paladin’s ass with it’s sword of Azeroth found in the temples of the Druidian!” Ah yes. Two of the finest things in life. Literature, and World of Warcraft. But what else was there to do? A 6 hour bus-ride to the San Juans is no laughing matter. I, stole Murphy’s book and read all about the gut-wrenching Ebola virus, others contented themselves with sleeping, and others did nothing but talk about World of Warcraft. Really. The bus ride up was punctuated by a stop at a gas station for a chance to relieve ourselves and purchase food. Ian (Davies) and I split a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, and discovered that eating ice cream with a fork was difficult. I must clarify. We drove up in two parties, one in a small yellow bus, the other in a bluish van. I was in the bus. I have only heard tales of the van ride up, but I hear it was a raucous affair with much singing of Cascada’s hit “Everytime we Touch”. When we arrived at the parking lot for the ferry we settled down and did two things. First, Kent flew a kite into Ilene’s head, next we played a game of Ultimate Frisbee in the parking lot. I myself do not understand ultimate Frisbee. Give me soccer any day. We piled onto the ferry, and we each did our own thing. I fished for a quarter beneath the bending machine so that Ian and I could buy a cup of coffee from the way way way too sweet sugary coffee machine. Meanwhile Robert had decided to fly his kite off of the ferry. While I sat inside relaxing, the conversation suddenly turned to the kite, now in the water, floating past the ferry. It was a sad day indeed for Rob’s kite. We arrived at Lopez, met our guides Bo and Matthew, and then embarked upon a one hour and a half lesson on how to pack a kayak. Although the students were fairly comfortable in the hot sun, wearing some light gear, the guides decked out in full dry suits appeared to be melting. As Matthew demonstrated packing a kayak, I wondered to myself if he was going to faint right there as the sweat was running off of his face in rivulets. Once everything was stowed away we launched off, and began paddling. It was an easy kyak to our first night’s camp, Canoe island, 1 ½ miles. On the island we were divided into work crews 1-4, and my crew was assigned to dinner. Somehow the idea came about that cooking pasta with saltwater was a good idea. To tell the truth, it WAS a good idea, until we attempted it in practice. The pasta came out with the salinity of soy sauce. After dinner, while the rest of us took a leisurely stroll up to the campsite to setup, the cleanup crew slaved away into the late hours in an attempt to fix up the mess the dinner crew had created. After a decent night of sleep we woke up early the next morning to break camp and head out with the current. Breakfast was a simple affair, Cereal, Granola bars, and fried spam. You’ll have to ask someone else how the spam was, I was content with the granola. We kayaked about 7 miles to Jones Island. The kayaking was accompanied by shouts from the guide “HEY YOU SLOW PEOPLE IN THE BACK! PADDLE FASTER!” along with “DON’T GET IN FRONT OF THE PACE-SETTER!” Ah, the joy of being shepherded from point A to point B. Arriving on the island, we unpacked and set up our tents for the night. A casual game of Ultimate Frisbee, the Catlinites vs the Drunken Old Men ensued. Even Bo got into it. I’m still not sure who won. But a spectacle it was indeed. Meanwhile on the food front, some scoundrel had hidden our rice. IT was nowhere to be seen. How were we supposed to survive without rice? Murphy took it upon herself to search the kayaks whilst the rest of the peoples were playing Frisbee or lounging, and she found the rice! And it was good. A fire was built, which we used to sit around at, discuss the recent slaughter of the USA by the Czech Republic in the Fifa World Cup, and, of course, hear more about World of Warcraft. We broke out the marshmallows and roasted a few. Fortunately, there was no singing of Kumbaya. We decided on a game plan for the next day which was to wake up at 6, pack up, and get out of the island and back to Canoe before the currents shifted against us. We planned to get out by 9 I believe. The next morning came and we awoke. Camp was packed, the kayaks were packed, we were set to roll at 9. Then came the group meeting. Go back the way we had come yesterday in relative safety, (7 miles) or go back a new way which could potentially prove to be a day out of hell with both wind and current against us (9 miles). All is well and well, the group vote found the group split down the middle with just one person more voting for the go back the way we came. However, this was not enough. We had to sit down, and debate for an hour and a half on the pros and cons of both ways. While time slipped away, we finally decided to go the new way. At 10:30. Fortunately we got lucky, and the predicted 15 m/h headwind did not occur. IT was a brilliantly easy paddle, marked by Peter stopping to use his cell phone to arrange some dealio and the guide yelling “YOU PEOPLE IN THE BACK! PADDLE FASTER!” After arriving at the camp and being assailed by mosquitoes, we had a large amount of free time to do what we pleased. Several basketball games were played, naps were taken, World of Warcraft was discussed, Skyler and Sam even took a paddle in the water on top of a floating log. At dinner, an eating contest between Hyde and Chris broke out, with Hyde winning by downing his enormous plate of mac and cheese extremely quickly. Almost disgustingly quickly. I wouldn’t do it. At night a soccer game broke out, in which players were rotated on and off and even an adult, Ilene, got into the field for a bit. We slept, we woke up, we took off, and we got onto the bus. We changed, we yelled, we were happy. We even ate. We stopped at McDonald’s and Taco Bell. Ian took the prize for most food consumed, with two cheeseburgers, 5 chicken selects, a large fries, a large drink, and a quarter pounder (or something like that). Needless to say, we all ate like never before. Then we got back into the bus and drove home. At last. It was a short trip, with it’s ups and downs, but as my first outdoor trip I think it was a pretty damn fine one. Believe me. It’s in your interest. I have the Axe of the Argentineans that deals +4958 frost damage and grants its bearer +100000 hp. Fear.
Climb of the Middle Sister
Climb of the Middle Sister
May 27-29, 2006
TRIP REPORT By Alex
When we arrived at Sisters Oregon, the anticipation for the trip was high. All of us were excited by the excellent weather, and we stopped to get gas and a few supplies. The road into the trailhead was about 30 minutes of gravel kicking, bus breaking travel. At the trailhead, we hopped out and separated all of the group gear into big piles, repacked our packs, and prepared to head out. Our packs were heavy, and the hike ahead looked a little daunting. It took us all of 40ft to get lost, since we went the wrong way and failed to see where to go. The hike was difficult, but everyone was able to keep up. Frequent rests, and lots of power bars kept the line moving. About halfway through, it began to snow, and as we neared out destination, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped.
We found a suitable camp site that was sheltered in some trees, and began to set up tents and a kitchen. The weather that night was questionable, and we were contemplating whether or not to climb the next day. Ben Dair and others helped to build a fire which became the centerpiece of “The Village.” As the light faded, we became anxious for another member of our team who was supposed to join us that day. Search teams went out, and we successfully located Matt Hickey, who had turned off his radio – which we had left at the trailhead for his use.
Peter woke us up at 6:30 on Sunday to begin our ascent to the summit. The weather hadn’t improved much, but after swallowing some pop tarts, we set out on the trail with our much lighter summit packs. 30 min after we started, a suitable slope for snow school was found. It involved basic climbing techniques, ice axe handling, and self arrests. With the weather still doubtful, we paused and bundled up, then decided to attempt the climb. We climbed for many hours through fresh snow and with a steady 20 mph wind in our faces.
Within a thousand feet of the top, we were forced to turn back due to horrendous conditions and an avalanche slope. In the poor weather, we had taken a much more direct path, which proved to be too difficult and dangerous to continue on. After a brief lunch of peanut butter and jelly bagels in the cold wind, we started on our way down. And of course, when we were about halfway through our descent, the weather cleared and the sun came out. Although we did not get to summit the Middle Sister, it was a sight to behold, and we were all impressed with the distance we had gone, especially considering the weather.
We made the hike out to the bus in two hours and drove down to McKenzie Bridge. We were treated to a fantastic hamburger barbecue at the home of Stan and Jent Biles, right on the river. Thank you Stan and Janet!
Next year, we will attempt to climb it again, and hopefully with some more luck, be able to reach the summit
Spring Break 2006
Spring Break 2006: Pinnacles National Monument
By Michal
From my “Pinnacles log” and memories.
By Michal
From my “Pinnacles log” and memories.
Being such a small group of experienced outdoorsmen and Sarah, we left in our two cars quickly and happily. Minutes into the trip, Jack already had his pants halfway down. Apparently he had a wedgie, although I think he exaggerated it so he could take his pants off. “Don’t look!” he yelled at me and Ian. After Jack mellowed down, someone pulled out a book of thoughtful questions and we took turns answering them. The trip south also included a game of Frisbee, the unmentionable “applecore incident”, as well as a brutal fight over a bag of chips. That was vicious. One surprising thing I noticed on the trip was that the time on the road was just as entertaining and friendly as the time we spent climbing. We reached Pinnacles National Monument on the second day. The first few days of climbing were slow and kind of lazy, but everyday after that we climbed harder routes. At first I was weary of climbing the harder routes, but eventually I became more confident of my abilities and on the last day I climbed two routes I never thought I could have climbed. On the way to California we’d been hoping that the radiant California sun would shine on us that week. Unfortunately the weather wasn’t as great as we had hoped, although it only disrupted out climbing on one day. The rain started pouring on Wednesday after lunch and we had to pack up the ropes. For the first time on an outdoor trip, I felt like I was in a very experienced group. In fact, I felt like I was probably the least experienced member. Everyone got along excellently though, and the group’s universal bond was our sense of humor. A French accent somehow got picked up on Monday, which continued throughout the week (and into my Catlin English class…) which made everything funny. Finally we have something to thank the French for. At camp, everyone complied with their duties (cooking, cleaning, preparing lunch) and the whining level was low. Everyone’s personality added to the completeness of the group, with different levels of energy (oh Jack…) and all sorts of personalities. Because of the snow level in Yosemite Valley, we decided to stay at Pinnacles for the rest of the trip. I’m glad, because Pinnacles has to be one the most beautiful places there is. We all fell in love with it, (besides I’ve been in Yosemite before although others wanted to see it). Writing a summary of the trip is hard, since the most memorable parts of the trip are the short and humorous little anecdotes. Of course, I can’t include all of them here, and some of them would offend moms and good-natured educators. The stories live on in the group though, and for me that’s the most important thing that came out of the trip.
The group:
Michal
Ian
Sarah
Tony
Jack
Peter
Jeff
Joel
Megan
Opal Creek Breakaway trip
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.
Mount Hood Climb, May 2006
An attempt to climb to the summit of Mt. Hood May, 2006
When we gathered in the parking lot to leave for the Mt. Hood climb, a lot had already happened leading up to this trip. Months before, Peter Green had posted a sign up sheet in his office and encouraged students to consider climbing Mt. Hood this spring. Almost twenty kids signed up for the nine places, eager for adventure. As the actual trip approached, we went on conditioning hikes together, reassured our parents we wouldn’t fall off the mountain, and went to REI to buy gear and rent identical orange boots. Checking the weather reports in the days before the climb, we wondered whether our attempt to summit would be successful. But our hopes were high as we got on the bus that morning.
The first day of the trip we had snow school. We avoided the freezing half-rain, half-snow as long as possible, sitting on the heated floor of Timberline’s entryway while Peter and John Youngman explained the purposes of mountaineering gear. Feeling somewhat well informed, we headed out to a snowy slope above the parking lot. We rest-stepped up the hill and plunge-stepped back down. Greg grumblingly ran back to the bus to get the rope while we learned about avalanches. Then we split into two groups to take turns roping up and self-arresting. The lesson on self-arrests started out civilized but turned into a group wrestling match down the side of the hill. We ate our lunch in the Timberline cafeteria and scared passers-by with our attempts to toss yogurt containers into the trash can.
With snow school over with, we got back in the bus, failed to start it, got a jump, and drove down to the Mazamas lodge. Most people’s gear was soaked so we took over the drying room with packs and jackets and gloves. The rest of the afternoon was spent in cozy comfort, playing card games and foosball and warming ourselves like cats in front of the fireplace. After a dinner of stir-fry, we looked over the latest weather reports and debated when to climb the next day. The weather was supposed to be windy and cold but improve over the course of the day. We eventually settled on waking up at 3 the next morning. I fell asleep right away but kept waking up, wondering groggily if it was time to go yet.
My memories from the early morning are a blur. I remember Mary Green’s voice telling us to get out of bed and pack up our gear, and I remember drinking several cups of earl grey tea. I remember sitting in the bus in the dark, waiting through several unsuccessful attempts at starting it before patience and a jump from Mary’s car got it to shudder to ignition. Before I knew it, we were back in the Timberline parking lot, strapping the last pieces of gear to our packs and starting up the trail.
The sun rose as we climbed, turning the clouds along the horizon hazy pink and purple. Gradually the clouds cleared and the morning sun illuminated the summit. “Wow … that’s high,” I thought as I gazed up at it, and remembered that every step up the snowfield was bringing me closer to it.
As we moved into more open terrain, the wind hit us harder. I pulled up on my neck gaiter and tightened my hood to keep it out. Later I would find a windburn on my cheek, on the one spot that wasn’t covered. We moved in a single file line up the mountain, following exactly in each other’s footsteps. We had to remind ourselves to occasionally look up from the monotonous steps to appreciate the view. Behind us stretched the slope of the mountain, then an expanse of misty clouds dotted with distant peaks.
After traversing the snowfield, we paused by an abandoned chairlift building to rest, and a few members of the group who were suffering left us to head back down the mountain with one of the leaders. At that point, we all wondered if reaching the summit was really a possibility. The wind didn’t seem to be letting up like we had hoped. We pressed on determined to stick together and at least reach the top of the ski run. When we finally did, we dropped our packs and exchanged hugs. Peter told us it was time to turn around, and even though we were disappointed no one argued.
Halfway back down, we gathered in the lee of Silcox Hut and Peter explained why we had turned around. Higher up on the mountain it looked like the wind would still be blowing hard. While we seemed to be doing fine while we were hiking, we would all risk frostbite in stopping for five minutes to rope up and put on crampons. He also told us to be sure to tell others the truth about what we had done, to neither downplay nor exaggerate the climb. So here’s the truth: Although we failed to reach the summit, the trip wasn’t a failure at all. We learned about mountaineering, and about each other and ourselves. We hiked to the top of Palmer, halfway up the mountain, in icy 30 mph winds. The weather was bad, so we made the wise decision to turn back. We went as far as the mountain would let us that day. And at some point in the future, we’ll try again.
Smith rock and Caving adventure, April 2006
Caving and Rock Climbing in Central Oregon
Using a three-day weekend to its maximum advantage, a group of ten students and five leaders traveled to the desert of Central Oregon to cave and climb. The first day was spent exploring caves southeast of Bend, with a night of camping under the stars. The next day the group arose early and trekked to Smith Rock State Park for two days of rock climbing. Routes varying in difficulty from 5.6 to 5.11 were ascended. On the second day two groups did multi-pitch climbs on the red wall.
Using a three-day weekend to its maximum advantage, a group of ten students and five leaders traveled to the desert of Central Oregon to cave and climb. The first day was spent exploring caves southeast of Bend, with a night of camping under the stars. The next day the group arose early and trekked to Smith Rock State Park for two days of rock climbing. Routes varying in difficulty from 5.6 to 5.11 were ascended. On the second day two groups did multi-pitch climbs on the red wall.
Deschutes River Rafting April 2006
trip report
Smith Rock March 2006
Smith Rock March 2006
Getting out of town on a homework free weekend means traveling to Smith Rock State Park for some rock climbing. Seven students and five leaders spent two days climbing in the sunshine of Central Oregon. Half of the group was first time climbers. We camped in the desert and sat around the campfire swapping tales of unrestrained adventure.
Getting out of town on a homework free weekend means traveling to Smith Rock State Park for some rock climbing. Seven students and five leaders spent two days climbing in the sunshine of Central Oregon. Half of the group was first time climbers. We camped in the desert and sat around the campfire swapping tales of unrestrained adventure.
Middle School Ropes Course Trip
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.
Saddle Mountain Hike
Saddle Mountain Hike, January 2006
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| High on the slopes of Saddle Mountain, Clatsop County, Oregon. |
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| The stump remembers |
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Goat Rocks Backpack Trip
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.
Smith Rock Adventure, November 2005
                             
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Deschutes River October 2005
Surviving the Deschutes River
By Rob Bishop
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.
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| Ahhh, the trip is over.... |
North Cascades Climbing Trip
Trip Report by Sam Alden
Photos by Peter Green
Trip Report - - - Trip Photos: In Chronological order
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| "Hey you guys, theres a stairway we could have taken right here" |
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| Knots! |
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| Hmmm. I wonder if this would be a good place for a smoke break... |
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| We arrived at the Watson Lakes trailhead with the subtlety of a school bus in the wilderness |
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| These packs are kind of big, arent they? |
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| Watson Lakes: Our campsite was on the shore of the far lake. |
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| I dont remember that spaghetti sauce being there... is this a joke or something? |
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| This place is kind of nice after all |
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| Im sure I was wearing shoes on the hike in... |
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| Our dedicated trip staff |
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| Morning at Watson Lake |
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| Base Camp |
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| Were climbing a mountain today? I dont think we got that memo |
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| The intrepid team |
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| "Mountain climbing seemed easy, at least on paper. And where did I put that helmet?" |
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| Mt. Watson from Watson Lake |
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| Mt. Shuksan |
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| "Is anyone else seeing these clouds coming in?" |
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| "You know, this is a good place" |
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| Roping up on the glacier |
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| "you know, I dont really miss the homework" |
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| "This place is very different from my home" |
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| Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain |
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| "Just how deep are these crevasses you speak of?" |
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| Climbing would be such a fine and glorious sport if it werent for all that climbing |
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| "Trees at the top of the glacier. Go figure." |
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| "No, I think it would be best if I just waited right here while someone else leads the summit pitch" |
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| "These cotton pants work really well when its not raining" |
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| 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" |
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| Patience is the watchword on climbing expeditions |
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| "The rope is running through the heather. Im climbing on bushes" |
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| "So, its pretty much raining" |
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| "What better way to experience the true greatness of the North Cascades!!" |
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| "Im sure it will let up any second" |
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| The rain didnt deter the group: Everyone summited!" |
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| "You know it is getting kind of cold. Why not build a fire?" |
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| Sometimes a fire needs a little help |
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| "If I dont make it home, tell my brother he can have all my possessions, but not my room" |
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| Making our way to the west summit |
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| The route wasnt so obvious, but we made it to the top of the west peak too! |
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| "This is the kind of thing I try to avoid" |
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| "Youre right, I think it is beginning to clear up. I can see my hand" |
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| And the rain let up! |
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| Off with the harnesses |
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| Almost home |
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| 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.
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| The beauty of the wilderness |
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| "I am very full" |
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| "Whos ready for another?" |
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| The dishwashers: Now where was that lake? |
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| The master drummer |
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| Rest day and a picnic at Anderson Lakes |
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| Some went on a day hike even on their rest day |
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| The sun came out and the gear got dry |
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| Knot tying for fun and profit |
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| Oh, look at the little bunny. |
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| Let me see now, does a straight beat a flush or is it the other way around? Wait, all the spoons are gone! |
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| On Day 4 we MOVED CAMP and set ourselves a new obective: To hike into Yellow Aster Meadows and attempt Mt. Tomyhoi. |
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| 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.
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| Ah, Mt. Baker, our constant companion |
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| Taking a break |
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| Its a breathtaking trail |
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| Not a bad basecamp for our attempt the next day |
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| You know, I kind of like this climbing thing... |
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| "Bro, can I tell you something? I dont really know what to do with myself if I dont have homework" |
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| "Swimming in lakes, climbing mountains, this is what growing up is supposed to be" |
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| Dinner time |
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| "Why dont I just go ahead and finish this off?" |
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| "Tell me again why were leaving?" |
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| "Youre right, we dont need to stake down the tents" |
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| 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.
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| We crossed the high alps for over a mile |
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| What a team! |
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| Higher and higher toward our goal |
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| Getting ready to rope up |
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| Taking a wee rest as we near the final ridge |
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| Now it gets a little complicated... we must be climbing! |
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| Investigating the glacier as a possible descent route. No go. |
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| Climbers on the summit pinnacle |
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| The summit of Mt. Tomyhoi - July 18, 2005 |
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| On the summit! |
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| Waiting, waiting, waiting at the col. Perfect weather for a nap. |
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| Roped up on the summit ridge |
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| A disreputable pair on the top of this noble peak |
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| Seth regains the summit ridge. He is wearing an orange pack on his back. |
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| "Wow, I cant believe places like this exist" |
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| A pleasant walk back down to basecamp |
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| Mt. Shuksan |
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| 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.
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.
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| Visiting the submarine at OMSI |
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| Lets see who can hit the bridge! |
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| In the lagoon |
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| Canoeing through the city |
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| Along the shores of Ross Island |
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| A very capable crew |
Deschutes 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.
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| "Dude, have you ever tried to light a match on your braces?" |
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| "We definitely did not bring enough Spam" |
Molalla River Rafting and Hiking Adventure
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.
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| It was a bit chilly at the trailhead |
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| A rest stop |
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| Enjoying the wilderness experience |
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| Bob Sauer led the way through the snow |
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| Frosting the Pop Tarts |
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| 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.
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| Gathering wood for a fire |
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| 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.
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| Getting geared up |
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| Which way do we paddle? |
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| The boat Captain |
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| The river gets narrow |
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| Explain this one, Mr. Geology |
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| Skipper, were going under! |
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| Warm and dry in the bus |
_unformed_
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