Finally, some sunshine!
We had blue skies on the drive up and I thought we were golden. But somehow, Dad and I managed to track down the singular cloud hanging over Oregon and spent a couple of hours snowshoeing into it. I took him up the ridge directly to the East of Boyscout ridge, climbing higher and higher hoping to get above said cloud. But it never happened.
On our way back down Mt Hood… beautiful weather.
Our early-season hike to Canyon Creek Meadows was saved from disappointment by another hiker who warned us that the trail was still under snow. He suggested another trail, so we hiked out through a sea of wild huckleberry bushes and burned out trees until the trail took a dip into a valley that we didn't feel like climbing out of. While the others waited patiently, Jo and I scrambled up a ridge to get above the trees for an unobstructed view of Three Fingered Jack. We noticed bear scat and a lot of fresh tracks and I kept hoping for a sighting. No such luck this time. Our friends did find a couple of ticks on their pants back at the trailhead, but I would have much preferred a black bear.
