Our feral child

We found this cave-child while we were camping near Olallie Lake.

Backpacking at Olallie Lake

Our fourth backpacking trip of the season was in the Olallie Lake Scenic Area, one of my favorite places in Oregon. [This photo is from the Redwoods; haven't had time to download the Olallie Lake photos yet.] Olallie Lake is about 2.5 hours from Portland, and the trail starts at the Olallie Lake resort. We arrived at around 6:00 on a Friday, and since there were several other cars at the trailhead, we decided that Jeff should run ahead to check out the camping situation (we weren't sure which lake to head to - Timber Lake or Top Lake - or how many spots were at each lake).

"Olallie" means berry, and in August the trails are lined with huckleberry bushes - some with big powdery blue berries; some with dark purple, almost black, berries; some with tiny little red berries. They are all about two feet tall - just the right size for a two-year-old who could happily consume huckleberries for weeks on end. I purposely did not point out the huckleberries to Melina because I knew we wouldn't be going anywhere once she discovered them; and surprisingly, she didn't immediately realize they were. She hiked almost the entire 1+ mile to the campsite, stopping occasionally to point out a pine needle or a rock, and constantly asking "what'sat? What'sat?" Eventually we came across another group of hikers who commented on all the huckleberries and showed them to Melina. After that, progress was slow.

Once Jeff took off to find us a campsite (stashing his backpack behind a rock), it was just Melina and me in the wilderness. Even though there was no-one around, the trail was easy, there was plenty of light, and I had a good map and knew where we were going, I was a little nervous. During our last four backpacking trips I've had plenty of time to ponder all of the things that could go wrong during a trip:

• Angry bear could attack.
  
• Angry mountain lion could attack.
  
• Mosquito could carry West Nile virus, causing extended suffering.
  
• Tree could fall on tent (this happened to me when I was eight years old).
  
• Earthquake could cause rocks and trees to fall on hikers, tent.
  
• Melina could fall off a cliff.
  
• Melina could drown in a lake.
  
• Jeff or Melina could get lost. (I'm not worried about ME getting lost).
  
• Crazy mountain man or Yahoo could attack.
  
• Forest fire could trap us. (We were hiking at Olallie Lake when a large forest fire started once, so this fear is not completely unfounded).
  
• Unknown creature could grab leg while swimming in the lake.
  
• Giardia.
  
• Could experience heart attack while jumping into cold water.
  
• Jeff could get leg pinned between two boulders while searching for firewood, etc.
  
• UFO could hover over campsite, abducting occupants. (This seems completely real late at night under the spreading stars).
  
• Nuclear war could erupt and we wouldn't know about it.
  
• Could find dead body in remote location.
  
• Melina could freeze or suffocate in her sleeping bag (requiring me to check on her frequently during the night).
  

OK, so some of these are more likely than others. I've realized that being out in the (somewhat remote) wilderness is a good way to examine your fears and figure out which ones are worth the effort. In the end, none of these things happened, though I was a bit concerned about a "nearby" forest fire (actually about 60 miles away) that sent smoke our way when the wind was from the east.

Jeff found us a nice spot on Timber Lake. There were a few other parties there during the weekend, and we saw quite a few hikers during the day, but everyone was friendly and polite and there wasn't too much negative Yahoo energy. On the second day we did a loop hike and bushwhacked down to a couple of lakes that had no trails leading to them. We found some nice campsites on these remote lakes and plan to return; I'm pretty sure we would have the lakes completely to ourselves, even on a busy weekend.

Melina did great, as she has always done on hiking trips. I think she's a born hiker. She slept well, only waking up once on Sunday night; she climbed like a mountain goat over rocks and trees; she played in the dirt to hear heart's content and found new ways to pass the time with her little Playmobil people. I've found that's actually easier being with Melina when we're out in the wilderness - because there's less that I have to do, because Jeff is always around, and because she entertains herself really well. She becomes this self-reliant, confident, able-bodied kid who barely resembles the two-year-old I was afraid she might be. She's a pretty cool kid!

Backpacking baby

We have gone on four backpacking trips with Melina this summer, and it turns out that she's a natural. I don't know many two-year-olds who can hike a mile over rocky terrain... but then again, I don't know many two-year-olds at all, so maybe this is normal? Anyway, in late July we went on a weeklong trip to the Redwoods, with two two-night backpacking trips separated by two nights at the Patrick Creek Lodge. The first trip was a one-mile hike down to Redwood Creek, a beautiful, clear creek hemmed in by tall redwood stands. The water level was low, so you could hike for miles along the gravel bars, wading through the water when necessary. It felt very remote and wild; a bear crossed our path as we drove in on a gravel road. The stream was full of caddis fly larvae (a sign of a healthy stream) and baby trout, and we saw some interesting new bugs, including a little inchworm with big black eyes and a giant green grasshopper.

Redwood Creek is a great place to backpack with kids. The trail in is rather steep, but short; there are lots of hollowed out redwoods to play house in; the water in the creek is pretty shallow and not too cold in July; and because you're camping on gravel, there's a minimum of dirt. (Nevertheless, Melina managed to get completely filthy several times over).

Our second backpacking trip was along the Doe Flat trail to Buck Lake in the Six Rivers Recreation Area. This trail was 1.8 miles long, and the early stretches had some scary cliffs, so Melina rode on Jeff's shoulders much of the time. Other than that, this was another great trail for kids. The first day we had Buck Lake all to ourselves - just us, a tame doe that broke into our bag of gorp and continued creeping around the campsite at night, some chipmunks, and a bear (briefly) splashing in the lake the following morning. It was absolutely silent - almost too silent for someone used to hearing fans and air filters blowing at night. The second night, a large family showed up and camped on the other side of the lake. Even though they were fairly quiet, their presence brought out my xenophobic tendencies and I realized that I'd really like to go backpacking somewhere where you don't see other people. Isn't that the whole point of backpacking? Of course, when you can only go a mile or two in, you don't get all THAT remote.

While we were in the area we went on a day hike to Devil's Punchbowl, a higher elevation alpine lake three miles from our camp. We actually never made it to the lake because the trail became more and more rocky and steep, my fear of heights kicked in, and neither Jeff or I thought it was safe to continue on with Melina in the backpack. So instead we found a hidden pool, populated only by a garter snake, and had lunch there. Jeff skinny dipped and I stuck my head under a waterfall, and we were all entertained watching the ants carry away pieces of our lunch. On the way back, Melina developed some strong preferences about pine cones and kept asking for different pine cones along the way. There were some huge ones there, including Ponderosa pine cones that were about ten inches long.

One other thing: on our hike in, we saw a creature that I could only identify as a mountain beaver. Who knew there was such a thing as a mountain beaver? I learned about it in a wildlife book I bought at the ranger station office. It's not a beaver at all - more like a large fuzzy loaf of bread. I staked out a mountain beaver colony for a while in the early morning, but I didn't see a thing.