The Long Hike—The Scouts Find Packing Grub and Blanket Rolls Up and
Down Cliffs is Hard Work
Bright and early the next morning preparations for the hike began. This
was to be no ordinary jaunt. They were going out for three days and two
nights into a wilderness, where they would have to make long, severe
climbs up and down treacherous lava ledges; where they would have to
sleep out in the open, tentless, in a climate where water freezes at
night; where they couldn’t get a mouthful of food except what they could
carry with them.
“You see, boys,” said the doctor, “it’s going to be quite a problem how
to take along enough stuff to keep us warm, and keep us fed, and yet be
able to travel with it on our backs.”
Each member of the party put in his shoulder pack his own food ration,
consisting of tea (because it is lighter than coffee), some bacon,
powdered egg, a little dehydrated vegetables, a small bag of flour, a
small bag of sugar, a package of bouillon cubes, a can of preserved
fruit, a small can of condensed milk, two pounds of raisins, two boiled
potatoes, and several cakes of sweet chocolate. In addition, each person
put in two extra pairs of wool socks, and a set of underclothes. Then,
out of their sleeping bags, they each took a double blanket, and made a
blanket roll, fastening the ends with straps from the motors. Bennie and
Spider each had a boy scout individual cook-kit, in a khaki case with a
shoulder strap. These two kits, with a tin cup and plate and spoon for
the others, and one, larger frying-pan and kettle carried by Uncle
Billy, was all the cooking outfit they carried. However, the doctor made
everybody carry a canteen, and Bennie, Spider and Mr. Stone each carried
a camera. Everybody had a sweater, also, and two belt axes were taken.
The doctor had his rope.
When the shoulder packs were on, and the blanket rolls, and the
canteens, and the cameras and camp kits, everybody was glad enough of
the alpenstocks which the doctor handed around.
“Say, I need this stock to help me stand up,” said Dumplin’. “I feel
like a walking department store.”
“I’ll bet we aren’t toting any more than a soldier has to carry on a
march, at that,” said Spider. “Are we, doctor?”
“No, I don’t believe we’re packing so much,” Uncle Billy answered. “A
gun’s heavier than a stock, too. But it’s enough. Going to be hot
today.”
As the little procession filed past the hotel (which by now was full of
tourists), a crowd came out to watch them go past.
“Going on a hike, boys?” somebody called out.
“No,” Bennie answered, “we’re going over to Wizard Island to play
tennis.”
“Wonder what makes people ask foolish questions?” Dumplin’ mused.
“It’s the——” Bennie began. Then he caught himself. “Ha! thought you had
me, didn’t you?—it’s the altitude!”
“You chaps won’t talk so much at three o’clock,” remarked Mr. Stone.
For the first half mile, they had a trail, the trail they had already
taken up Garfield Peak. But half-way up, they left the trail, and struck
right out, without any path at all, around the tumbled crags of broken
lava, and over the snow-fields and patches of soft pumice soil that
crown this part of the rim on the southeastern side of the lake. The
going was very slow and difficult, up hill and down, in and out among
the rises and dips, with the sun beating down upon them till their packs
and hot blankets seemed almost unbearable. At first, they could see the
blue lake almost 2,000 feet below them, while they worked along the
crest of Eagle Crags, but after a while they had to drop down behind the
rim to avoid a climb up Dyar Rock, and lost all sight of it.
After about two miles, they came out on the crest of a slope that led
down to Sun Creek, and saw the Sun meadows below them. They would have
rejoiced at this sight if they hadn’t also seen the wall of the deep
ravine rising up on the other side, steeper and higher than under their
feet.
“Oh, for the wings of a dove!” sighed Dumplin’.
“Lot o’ good a dove’s wings would do _you_,” said Bennie. “Take a
dirigible to lift you.”
“A bridge across would do me,” said Spider.
“Meanwhile, we’ll get a little exercise crossing on our own feet,” Uncle
Billy smiled. “Come on, now, and watch your step. Sound your footing
with your alpenstocks, and keep out of line, so if anybody starts a
slide, it won’t spill all the rest.”
They made the descent slowly and painfully over the first steep pitches,
and then more rapidly till they sank at last on the ground by the water
of Sun Creek, which came down from a snow-bank up on the rim at the head
of the ravine, threw off packs and blankets, and plunged their mouths
in.
“Do we lunch here? I’m hungry——” from Dumplin’.
“We do,” the doctor answered. “And it’s a brief lunch, too. Everybody
take one handful of raisins, and half a cake of chocolate.”
“Oh, gee, is _that_ all?” cried Dumplin’.
“That’s all. John Muir used to climb for two or three days in the high
Sierras on a pocketful of raisins, and didn’t even carry a blanket. Come
on, get busy.”
Everybody obeyed, and the doctor saw to it that they didn’t take too
many of their raisin supply, either.
“I consider this a Lucullan feast,” remarked Mr. Stone.
“Whatever that is,” said Bennie. “If you mean some banquet, I’m right
along with you. Always did like these seven-course dinners.”
“Anyhow, it won’t take long to wash the dishes,” Spider reflected.
As soon as the raisins and chocolate were eaten, and the canteens
refilled, they picked up their packs and blankets again and put them on.
“Gosh! mine weighs more’n it did,” said Bennie. “Somebody’s put
something into it.”
“Mine, too.”
“Mine, too.”
“Mine, too.”
“Wait till they get really heavy before you kick,” said Uncle Billy.
“Forward, march!”
The thousand-foot wall of the Sun Creek ravine which faced them was just
about the height from the lake to the rim at the hotel, but it was not
so steep, except for a little distance at the start. On the other hand,
there was no trail at all, no sign that any other human being had ever
been up it, and when the going was not amid treacherous lava fragments
which broke if you put your weight on them, it was over soft pumice into
which your feet sank deep, and then began to slide backwards. Finally
Bennie took his uncle’s rope and scrambled up ahead with it, till he
could find anchorage, so the rest could have its help. When he was
fagged, somebody else took a turn. It took them more than an hour to
make the half mile up the wall, and at the top they pitched off their
packs and blankets, their shoulders and backs dripping wet with
perspiration, and everybody set his mouth to his canteen and drank.
After a rest, they crossed Dutton ridge, a mile of broken going, and
then began to descend into the next ravine, called Kerr Valley, which is
the deepest ravine on the slopes of old Mount Mazama, and lies right at
the foot of Scott Peak. The descent was not dangerously steep till the
last three hundred feet, and there they used the rope again to help
them.
As they came out at last into the mile wide ravine of Kerr Valley, out
of which the snow had pretty well melted except under the trees, and in
which the wild flowers were springing up, they saw where the rim road
came down from the rim and descended the valley to get around the mass
of ledges and ravines they had been crossing. It was now three o’clock,
and, as Mr. Stone had predicted, nobody was saying much.
They could see the round, dome-like pile of Scott’s Peak, directly
across the valley, and Bennie did ask how far it was from there to the
top.
“Thinking of keeping on up today?” his uncle asked.
“Aw, don’t rub it in,” said Bennie. “I couldn’t climb an ant-hill now.”
“Well, a mile more will take us across the valley to water,” his uncle
laughed. “Guess we can all stick that out.”
On the other side of the valley, across the still deserted and useless
rim road, they found a stream, called Sand Creek, which came down, the
doctor said, from a spring on the cliffs of Scott, just above them.
Here they dumped their packs again, stripped off their clothes, and the
three boys were only restrained by main force from falling in.
“You’re too hot to go in that ice water,” the doctor said, grabbing
Bennie. “Wash your feet all you want to, and splash yourselves.”
After the wash, they put on their dry underclothes, and spread the other
set in the sun (which was fast dropping down the west), and then set
about making camp.
“I say we find a straight-faced rock to build the fire against,” Bennie
suggested, “so it will throw the heat all one way, and we can sleep
around it in a half circle, out of the wind.”
“I move we find a place where the ground is dry and a snow-drift hasn’t
just melted off it,” added Spider.
“And where it’s nice and soft,” added Dumplin’.
“And where it’s near wood,” added Mr. Stone.
“Maybe you’d like a room with a bath, and have your breakfast brought up
to you,” Uncle Billy laughed. “Well, go to it. Find your rock, Bennie.
Whoever’s got the axes, cut wood, and lots of it.”
A smooth place was finally found in the lee of a block of lava, some
little way from the stream, but near a patch of firs and hemlocks, where
there was plenty of dead wood. Dumplin’ started stoning up a big
fireplace, while the two scouts chopped wood and Mr. Stone brought water
in the big kettle and two little kettles of the camp kits and in the
canteens, and the doctor mixed a pancake batter, and made the bacon and
egg powder ready to cook, and peeled one of the two potatoes in each
pack.
As the sun dropped down behind the high ridge to the west, a chill
almost immediately came into the air. In less than an hour everybody,
who had been so hot all day, was thinking about putting on his sweater.
But the fire burned brightly, the potatoes smelled delicious in the
frying-pan, and as soon as they were done, the smell of bacon and eggs
rose from the same pan. Water for bouillon tablets and tea boiled in the
kettles. The food disappeared down hungry mouths, and every plate was
scraped clean, ready for the pancakes to follow. They had no syrup to
eat on the cakes, but nobody seemed to mind that. After the cakes, they
drew lots to see whose can of fruit should be opened, because the lucky
one would have so much less to carry in his pack. Dumplin’ won, to his
delight. His can was peaches, and how good they tasted—after the can was
finally pried open, with the aid of a scout ax, a stone and a broken
jack-knife blade!
Then the dishes were washed, more wood heaped on the fire, sweaters
donned, and in the gathering darkness, and the utter silence of the
wilderness, the five hikers sat in a close ring before the fire, and
relaxed their weary muscles.
“Well, I’m glad I lugged that grub,” said Bennie. “’Bout three o’clock,
though, I would have dumped the whole pack over the rim for two cents.”
“Me, too,” said Dumplin’. “Gosh, this hiking is hard work! Don’t see
much adventure in it. Here we’ve come about eight or nine miles, and
took us all day, and nothin’ happened.”
“What did you expect to happen?” his father asked. “Expect to meet an
elephant, or have the mountain erupt?”
“Gee, _I_ think it’s a wonderful adventure!” Spider exclaimed. “It’s
been a kind of _battle_. I—I can’t say what I mean, but it was just the
same when Bennie and I were getting up Llao Rock. We were sort of
_fighting_ up. Only instead of fighting another man, who tries to hit
you back, you are fighting just—just—well, just the wilderness.”
“And it’s against you all the time,” said Mr. Stone.
Bennie had grown very thoughtful. “No, it’s _not_ against you all the
time,” he said. “Excuse me for contradicting, Mr. Stone. I don’t mean to
be fresh. But the way I feel is that it’s against you if you don’t know
how to meet it, but if you do know, it is always kind of putting out
things to help you.”
“Such as——?” asked his uncle.
“Well, such as dead wood for a fire, and a chimney to crawl up in, if
you know how, when you strike a precipice, and maybe food to eat. I bet
we could find food in the roots of some of these wild flowers, if we had
to.”
“Give me bacon,” said Dumplin’.
“Gee, Dump, you go to church behind your belt buckle,” said Bennie
scornfully. “But I’m with Spider, though, that a hike like this is a
regular adventure, ’cause it’s a sort of fight all the way, and it’s all
up to you whether you get through or not. Gee, I wish I was an
explorer!”
Uncle Billy smiled. “We may get a little exploring yet, before we get
back to Portland. You never can tell. Well, who’s going to sleep
tonight?”
“I guess we all are.”
“Till the cold wakes us up,” said Mr. Stone.
“And a rock grows up through our shoulder blades,” said Spider.
“Whenever that happens, put some more wood on the fire,” said Uncle
Billy.
Then everybody rolled up in his blanket, feet to the fire, with his pack
for a pillow, and in spite of the bare ground, in place of a nice air
mattress, was soon asleep.