I’ve wanted to try a solo backpacking trip for a while now. One of the things I like most about backpacking is the feeling of being self-sufficient, independent. It seemed logical that backpacking solo would be an interesting thing to do.

So, at about 2pm on Monday afternoon, I found myself at the Eagle Creek trailhead once again, this time with a small 33-liter pack on my back containing everything I’d need to spend two and a half days in the wilderness. I planned to follow the Eagle Creek to Wahtum Lake route described by Portland Hikers Field Guide, a 26.5 mile loop through some of the Gorge’s most scenic areas.

I started off my solo adventure amid the crowds on the lower portion of the Eagle Creek trail. I was keeping a fast pace and soon left Punchbowl Falls behind me, along with the bulk of the day hikers. My goal was to reach 7.5 Mile Camp by 5pm. Even so, I found time to stop and appreciate the setting. It’s hard to ignore the thundering falls and lush greenery of the Gorge at any time, but without anyone else there to distract me the scenery commanded my attention. I even saw a few snakes sunning themselves on the side of the trail – it seems that they were enjoying the warm weather just as much as I was.

I passed Tunnel Falls at about 4pm, and pressed on to 7.5 Mile Camp. When I arrived at the camp, I was somewhat disappointed to find an Outward-Bound type group of 15 or so kids setting up camp. They seemed nice enough, but it looked like solitude would have to wait until my next campsite. A few minutes exploration quickly proved me wrong, though; 7.5 Mile Camp was a network of many campsites, most of which were fifty to a hundred meters apart, with dense brush in between. I found an excellent campsite about 200 meters downriver from the large group, out of sight and earshot, and pitched my tent on the carpet of moss that covered the northern side.

That evening, I passed the time cooking dinner, reading, and washing off in the calm, deep section of Eagle Creek that my camp was next to. It was nice to have some time alone, away from any distractions or demands. A little after seven, I got a campfire blazing and sat on the log bench that some unknown camper before me had made. The heat of the day gradually faded, and I was glad of the heat from my fire. Eventually, I doused the fire and went to sleep, hearing only the sounds of the creek and of my own breathing.

Tuesday morning dawned bright and crisp. I awoke at 6am and made breakfast, striking camp while the water for my oatmeal heated. The evening before, I had found a patch of mountain blueberry (Vaccinium ovalifolium) and red huckleberry (Vaccinium Parvifolium). Both berries go great with oatmeal.

I was on the trail at 7:30, passing through the still-sleeping student group’s camp on my way back to the main path. My plan for the day was to head up to Wahtum Lake and hopefully arrive by early afternoon, in time to go swimming during the hot part of the day before setting up camp on the bank. The trail description warned of 2300′ of elevation gain and a long, hard day, so I was glad to be setting out early. Even so, the sun soon came out from behind the clouds, and the day heated up. At one point, I stopped to enjoy the view and snap a few self portraits:

I reached the lake at 10:30 AM. I’d quickly realized after setting out that my pace was to fast to have Wahtum Lake be my campsite – I hoped to get there around noon, have lunch, go swimming, then continue on to one of the campsites on the Benson Plateau. Instead, I arrived at the lake during a short drizzle (the only rain of the whole trip), and kept on moving, circumnavigating the lake in order to meet up with the Pacific Crest Trail.

At about a quarter past eleven, I came to a small offshoot of the trail leading up to the 4670′ summit of Chinidere Mountain. This seemed as good a place to have lunch as any, so I headed up the steep winding path. When I reached the summit, I was rewarded by a panoramic view of the area – the clouds that had earlier blocked out my views at the lake had disappeared, and Wahtum Lake, Mount Hood, and the sweeping slopes of the Gorge were all visible underneath a wide-open sky. I put my pack down in one of the many stone bowls that were scattered around the slope – these bowls are actually Indian vision quest pits, stone hollows with walls built of stacked stone. As I sat in the rocks and quietly ate my lunch, I reflected that the pits showed that I wasn’t the first to come to Chinidere Mountain to be alone.

I headed back down the mountain, bound for the Benson Plateau. I’d been hiking alone for the whole morning, but Wahtum Lake had a road leading to it, and with that road came people. I was glad I wouldn’t be camping at Wahtum – even though I had no problem with other hikers and often enjoyed meeting them, it felt like camping in a crowded campsite on my first solo backpack would cheapen the experience somehow.

After a short while, I came to the Benson Plateau and stopped to refill my water at the first creek I came to. Within seconds of stopping, I was swarmed by mosquitoes. Until the Plateau, I had had no problems with bugs, so this came as something of a surprise. I quickly refilled my water, zapped it with my SteriPen while swatting mosquitoes at the same time, then hastily repacked and set off at a rapid pace. The bugs didn’t let up, and I didn’t slow my pace until I had left the Plateau behind and set off on the Ruckel Creek Trail. This is the point where I realized that I wouldn’t be camping a second night after all. My early start, lightweight pack, and fast pace meant that I’d arrived at the Ruckel Creek Trail with only a few miles left to go before 2 pm.

I carefully made my way down the trail, the steep descent forcing me to slow my pace slightly to avoid tripping or falling. On the way down, I passed more vision quest pits – but these ones were familiar. I’d hiked the Ruckel Creek trail two before, and I was happy that I could still recognize the scenery.

By 4 pm, I was back to the car. I’d hiked from 7.5 Mile Camp on the Eagle Creek Trail up to Wahtum Lake, made a side trip up Chinidere Mountain and back, and come back down the Ruckel Creek Trail for a total of about 20.5 miles in eight and a half hours. The accomplishment was bittersweet – I wouldn’t be spending another night out under the stars – but it was a feat I was proud of nonetheless. This trip opened the door to a lot of possibilities by letting me prove to myself that I could pull off a solo trip, and that I could do it fast. I’m already mulling the idea of a three-day, 50-mile trip in my head, and I’d eventually like to do a 100-mile trek in the same minimalist, fast-and-light style that I did this one. That’s all a ways in the future – I’ve got a Canada mountaineering trip and a weekend at Smith Rock to prepare for right now – but this trip brought it much closer than before.