At the Gold Lake Sno-Park, one mile west of Willamette Pass, is a parking area to begin cross country skiing north or south. This is near the Pacific Crest Trail system in which one could ski, theoretically, from Canada to Mexico, IF there was enough snow!
Today, I'll be skiing to Bechtel Shelter. For skiers who are new to the area, there are signs at each junction of trails directing the uninitiated to their goal. There are many trails and several shelters along the crest of the Cascade Mountains. The blue board will soon have a "You are here!" map of the area mounted for the directionally dyslexic.
Winter, wearing a mantle of white, brings sublime beauty to the forests. As I ascend the mountain, I look back at my ski track. One of trails to the shelter follows this route, which is a logging road in the summer. On weekends, volunteer ski patrolmen ski these trails to aid anyone who might be in distress.
Once in awhile, I'm able to glimpse an alpine ski area through the trees. It is "The Pass," situated at 5,120 feet at the summit of Willamette Pass. We were on the ski patrol there in the early 1970s. At that time, the area had one poma lift and one rope tow on one slope. Now there is one high-speed "six-pack," three triple and one double chairlifts that range from the front to the backside of the peak. These service 29 downhill trails.
Bechtel Shelter is one of several shelters in this general area of Willamette Pass. Thanks to volunteers, it is stacked with fire wood before the snow flies and has a wood stove for heat. The sleeping area is "upstairs" where the warm air from the stove accumulates. All shelters can not be reserved and are on a first come, first served basis. However, back country skiers are quick to share the shelter with other adventurers.
On every ski outing, I always bring a thermos of hot chocolate. The thought of its warmth, sweetness and thirst-quenching flavor is a powerful incentive to kick and glide my way back to the car. The skis are hurriedly placed on the cartop ski rack, and I plunge into my guiltless chocolate addiction ... and wash down a granola bar!
Today's post will feature the beauty of Oregon's forests and mountains. This image is the trail to Lookout Creek in an old growth forest that is protected from logging. The forest canopy is so thick that it diminishes the light for sharp photography. Still, the verdant mosses and lichen create a luminescence on the forest floor.
In the background are the "Three Sisters," all above 10,000 feet in elevation. The ridge I'm on is part of the "Old Cascades," which are 30 million years old. They were as high as the Sisters, but the erosion of time has worn them into foothills. Millions of years ago, they were where the Sisters are now; notice how far the tectonic plate has moved west!
Two day ago, I posted my ski trek and was about to delete the digital "outtakes." I thought, "There may be some interest in the images that were not included." So, here is a bit of trivia: We have driven this 1975 Honda since 1977. For winter mountain travel, I outfitted it with four, studded snow-tires and it climbs the icy hills like a bobcat. The ski rack, bought in 1960, is used most every year. 
Bechtel Shelter is one of several shelters in this general area of Willamette Pass. Thanks to volunteers, it is stacked with fire wood before the snow flies and has a wood stove for heat. The sleeping area is "upstairs" where the warm air from the stove accumulates. All shelters can not be reserved and are on a first come, first served basis. However, back country skiers are quick to share the shelter with other adventurers.
A few miles south of our capitol, Salem, are the bird-rich wetlands of the Ankeny Bottom. Due to an elevated boardwalks, we were able to walk through marshy forests to view the habitants and keep our feet dry. This area was first established in the 1960s to provide a home for the dusky Canada goose. They spend their summers in Alaska and winter in Oregon.
When this reservoir was drained in 2005, an artifact emerged. The old, forgotten road that connected Eugene with Florence, Oregon was visible again. These pilings supported a bridge that rotted long ago over the creek.This relic was used by Indians, settlers, and wagons in a two-day trip to the coast. In those days, it had to follow the easiest path. In doing so, it bypassed Mapleton, Oregon, a route unthinkable today.
We have been experiencing a winter that has had more rain than usual. Because of it, we had water in the lower portion of our back yard. (It posed no flood danger to our home which sits much higher.) The National Wetlands adjoins our back yard—where you see the vegetation in the background—but rarely has the water been this high. I'm raking detritus from the surface of the water into piles to facilitate cleanup when the water recedes. The ducks have been enjoying this watery windfall!