last night at about 10:00 pm I got home from a 3 day camping trip. it started Tuesday morning when my friend Pax and I left town for the wild woods, down Applegate way. We got dropped off at the middle fork trail head. I hefted my 50 lb backpack (and wondered why I needed 50 lbs of crap) and we headed off down the trail. beautiful walk, through the trees, along the creek, and a mile and half later we were at the frog pond. down the steep side, across the freezing cold water (that changes from ankle deep to crotch deep in one step), up the steep side, and we're there. just where is there? glad you asked. there is an abandoned mining cabin above the creek.
(pictures are in the gallery)
the cabin, we believe, was built in the late '20's or early '30's (19-), and was lived in while the creek was being blown up to get to the gold there. the blowing up created a pond, about 10(?) feet deep at the middle, but very clear and cold. the creek at this point is being funneled in through large rocks and moving quite fast when it gets to the pond, creating a constantly changing swirl of water that never stays still long enough for the sun to warm it up.
the best part about the site is that it is surrounded by underbrush and trees, with just the one way in and out, across the creek. after awhile this gives you the feeling of being alone in the universe, except the people you're camped with. this is great, unless you're prone to imaginations involving the Blair Witch or vengeful spirts after living flesh. And it doesn't help when the first night out you watch "The Evil Dead", a movie about college students in an old cabin in the woods being attacked by, you guessed it, vengeful spirts. kinda adds a special excitment to bed time, especially when you're sleeping on the front porch of the cabin. somehow I did survive though, and was able to enjoy the three days we had.
the first day was spent getting set up, and we tried panning for gold for a short while, but when no giant nuggets jumped into our pans we decided it was time for a rest. back to camp we trudged, and started fixing dinner. now when Pax goes camping, he does not neglect his stomach. me, I'll bring a two pound bag of trail mix and some jerkey and tough it out. Pax on the other hand had baked potatoes, zuchini, mushrooms, garlic, he was a regular produce department. along with half a dozen eggs and pasta he was set to eat well. fortunatly he knows that I'm not all that bright when it comes to camp food and always brings enough for two.
the second and third day were much like the first, get up in the morning, make plans to do something, then lay around camp and be lazy. but since that was the original plan and reason for the trip, we didn't feel like we were missing out on anything. the last day we did manage to work up the energy to climb the hill behind the cabin, mainly because we believed we could see what looked like a mine shaft in the rock face above us. of course it turned out to be just shadow, but the climb was dangerous and scary at times so worth it.
all in all it was a great three days. got some sun, learned why we keep nature outdoors (cause that's were it belongs), and learned all over again that I'm not 25 anymore and sleeping on the ground hurts. but hopfully I'll have forgotten that next month when we doing again, at some other as yet undecided location.
the trip did bring up a moral dilema. while there, I was attacked repeatedly by every manner of flying, biting, stinging insect known. my lower legs are covered in welts and scratched-off welts. so I have to wonder, as I once again attack my legs with a cheese grater in an attempt to ease the itch, is it wrong to hate the mosquitoes for doing what nature has made them do? they need the blood to create their eggs, and a human doesn't have all that fur in the way, so why not do things the easy way? so am I wrong to want to slap every mosquito I see? based on the condition of my legs, I'd say no.
