Warning: this post may not be suitable for all audiences. It contains some adult language, and quite a bit of childish language.
You know what I like so far about Oregon? I like that it is only 400 miles and change before I can get out of Oregon. But why?! I know you're asking that, as you think about all the beautiful forests and, well, nope just lots of pretty forests. Well I'm glad you asked, please allow me to explain.
At this point I have been hiking for 3.5 months - over 1800 miles. I have seen so many spectacular things and, frankly, I'm getting a little worn down. So, for those of you who think I should be more enthused by a walk in the Oregon woods, please remember to look at it from my perspective. Here is what I see:
Tree... tree... tree... rock... tree... tree... tree
And when I get to a distinctly different eco-zone:
Rock... rock... rock... tree... rock... rock... rock
Sometimes, if I'm really lucky, I get a section that is more uniquely spectacular:
Tree... rock... tree... tree... rock... tree... rock
Get the idea?
As I have learned, Oregon has more wood than Jerry Sandusky at Disneyland. Mostly I am hiking through dense forest all day, with only occasional ridgetop views to break up the monotony. Maybe the rest of the state is fantastic. I'm sure these woods are wonderful for cross country skiing in the winter. All I'm saying is that Oregon owes me big in the days ahead.
It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the mosquitoes. Yesterday I killed hundreds, and no exaggeration. Today was a bit better, but still pretty bad. I spent the morning hiking in long sleeves until, 10 miles in, the trail ascended to a ridge. That ridge lasted a heavenly 4 miles, during which I had views and almost no mosquitoes! I stopped and snapped pictures looking back at Mt. McLaughlin, and looking ahead toward Crater Lake. You will notice, I'm sure, the snow.
Ah yes, mosquitoes weren't enough, so Oregon had to throw in a snow covered descent from the ridge. Fortunately I've kind of mastered skiing with just my running shoes. I let myself slip down slope, then it is just a matter of maintaining balance as I skid wildly along. It's fun in its own way, though it doesn't make up for the pain in the ass of hiking through snow while trying to find a trail.
At the bottom of the hill I found myself in mosquito country once more. Really Oregon?! What, you feel like a big state just because you can make my life miserable? You're just a big mean bully. Well guess what... your founders didn't even plan you. They just wanted an all water route across the country, and when that didn't work out you were just another disappointment. You were an accident. So there, how does that feel?
I kept my hopes up for a mosquito free evening though. There's a place on my map marked "Oregon Desert." If I could just make it there I'd be home free, right? Well let me clear up a misconception for you. I had heard Oregon is part forest and part desert. I've decided this is simply not true. Oregon is really just divided into densely forested and slightly less densely forested parts. I arrived at the "Oregon Desert" to find it was just a section of forest with fewer trees. My guidebook says it is named so because it holds a reservoir of water, but it is all underground. Thus there is forest but no surface water. I call bullshit. Why? Because I'm camped here, and my tent is surrounded by about 4 or 5 dozen mosquitoes. Now unless you believe that mosquitoes can just fart themselves up out of the dusty earth, you're forced to concede that there is, in point of fact, surface water.
My theory? Well, from the detailed survey I've completed over the last few days, I have derived (completely made up) a couple of statistics. First, a square meter of Oregon soil contains an average of no less than 32 mature trees. Second, the Oregon Desert is sparse by comparison, containing only 14 mature trees per square meter. So, I figure two Oregon born cartographers came here and the following conversation occurred:
Hairy Stan: "Gee, what happened to all the trees?"
Logger Joe: "I don't know. There aren't very many. I can almost see the sky!"
Stan: "Meh, just mark it down as a desert."
Joe: "But aren't there scientific characteristics that define a desert?"
Stan: "You ever been somewhere with so few trees? Me neither. Must be a desert."
Joe: "Alright, whatever. Let's get out of here, these fucking desert mosquitoes are killing me."
So here I am, once again camped in an OFF commercial. I can't stop at a water source to wash, so I smell awful. I can only stop in very rare spots for a rest or to eat, and even then it just means enduring a slightly smaller swarm of blood suckers. I'm tired and my feet hurt, and I only managed 27 miles today. So yeah, you know what? Fuck you Oregon, that's what. Crater Lake better be good.
