Story #5: Backpacking

Ida and I went backpacking this weekend to Three Fingered Jack in the Mount Jefferson Wilderness. We took my dog, as previously mentioned. A few stories actually came out of this trip.

1. We started on the Pacific Crest Trail, but took a different path back based on some directions in William Sullivan's book, "100 Hikes in the Central Oregon Cascades." Things started out well, as he directed us down a hill with no trail, but a pretty big landmark (Martin Lake) to head toward. The next step was a trail at the far end of the lake, which we found. And then lost. Or as I believe happened, the trail disappeared. There were patches of ground that were dusty dirt covered, and when the trail hit these areas, it was impossible to know where the trail continued. Add to that the fallen trees and debris, and the fact that this is not a trail that is even on the Mount Jefferson Wilderness map, and I gave up. I think that trail has disappeared. Fortunately, thanks to my innate sense of direction (seriously, it runs in the family) and my dog's ridiculous sense of smell, we made it. We met up with the trail we were supposed to eventually reach via this nonexistent trail. Something similar happened the next day, when the trail met a meadow and disappeared into the knee-high grass. This time it was all Ava. She had her nose to the ground (literally - she looked like a bloodhound), and we walked through the meadow.  The exact spot where we hit the woods again?  Right on the trail.
   
2. The 2nd night out, I took Ava for a short walk (after the day full of hiking) to encourage a poo, and of course, went armed with the orange plastic shovel to aid in poo burial since we were in the wilderness.  Moments after leaving our camp area, I found myself with the orange shovel above my head, feeling thankful that the shovel was, in fact, orange because I swear I heard gunshots.  Wait, why are those shovels orange?  Perhaps people find themselves in my situation often - off for a poo and with no other protection from hunters?  In the end, I have no idea if there were hunters or not. Supposedly they are not supposed to hunt there, but I was not the only one who heard the gunshots either.
3. On the drive home, Ava slept the whole way.  At one point, she fell off the backseat of the car onto the floor of the car.  One would think that she would just get back up to be comfortable, then continue sleeping.  One would be wrong.  She just stayed put, too tired to move.  She proceeded to sleep for the next 6-7 hours of the day, with only occasional moments of interest in the outside world.  For being the most energetic dog I have ever met, I think I may have finally found something that wears her out.  And we're going again in 2 weeks...