Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams standing over the fog of the valley from Divide Trail |
Continuing
to wind toward Lookout Mountain and gain in elevation, the views of Mt. Hood were
outstanding. Larch trees, dressed in their fall yellow, mingled with the greens
of firs and hemlocks.
Divide Trail ridgeline |
Rock outcroppings along the trail
The
physical features of the trail resemble a roller coaster. There isn't much level
ground and what little exists is interrupted frequently by ascents and
descents. Atop Lookout Mountain lie the ruins of a fire lookout. All the wood
is gone, but the foundation, like remnants of other lookouts in the Oregon
Cascades, remains.
Along the trail, with Mt. Hood peaking over the ridge
A
side hike takes interested hikers to tiny but scenic Oval Lake, which sits
below the main trail in a small, steep cirque. After returning to the Divide
Trail, I climbed steeply along the cirque wall and once again to the ridge top.
This section of the ridge is topped by rugged and interesting rock outcroppings.
From here, Badger Lake can be seen in the distance, lying at the bottom of a
cirque of its own. The creek flowing out of Badger Lake proceeds through the
canyon far below the Divide Trail and into the dryness of Tygh Valley.
It
had been a great hike on a great day. As I drove back down road 4410, I came
upon a curve in the road that wound to the right. Through the trees I could
make out a white pickup traveling the same road and coming my way. As our
vehicles approached each other, I could see that the other pickup was traveling
fast for this particular gravel road and on my side of the road. It became
obvious the driver was not seeing me, and as our rigs converged I was forced to
come to a complete stop, skidding and hugging the ditch on my right, hoping the
white pickup would eventually see me.
I
think the glare of the afternoon sun probably kept him from seeing me. The
temporary blindness one can experience going from shade to bright sunlight when
driving can be troubling. This can occur quite often when driving mountain
roads. I can remember returning from a hike in the afternoon on the West side
of the Cascades one day when the bright sun blinded me as I drove around a
corner. Thankfully, I was driving slow, because after I slammed my brakes and
the road dust settled, I was staring at the grill of a log truck. Having both
stopped, the driver and I looked at each other for a moment before I slipped
around the truck. I could see him chuckling as if he had been through this many
times before.