Day 3.
According to the map, there is no trail up and over the saddle between the South and Middle Sisters, however…Once we clambered up the snow field, and across the saddle, it became evident that we were not the first to try this route, as there was, (when the snow did not cover it), a faint trail that was pretty easy to follow. Which made sense, since we got the idea for this hike from the book put out by the Mountaineers, “100 classic hikes in Oregon”…We continued our way between the two sisters, and passed several small tarns, part of the Chambers lakes chain, and huge snow fields.
By now, the snow was prevalent, and the “faint” trail non-existent, so we relied heavily upon the landmarks, and GPS…Once we met up with the PCT trail, we came to a scenic little lake to stop and have lunch. It was here, that we learned just how well a hummingbird can smell nectar. Coupled with the bright red shirt that I wore for most of the trip, I’m sure he must have thought he had hit the mother lode, for I must have been the biggest “flower” he had ever seen.
…he flew like a guided missile right at my coveted gel pack of nectar, which only happened to be a couple of inches from my face, and came to a screeching halt…
You see, I like to bring with me the PowerBar Gelpacks, for that little boost of energy. With relief, I had set down on the rocks overlooking the lake, tore open one of the gel packs, and within seconds, as the scent of glucose hit the air, I had “called in” a hummingbird, and he flew like a guided missile right at my coveted gel pack of nectar, which only happened to be a couple of inches from my face, and came to a screeching halt, like only a hummingbird can, staring me in the face.
…I hollered, so loud that I’m sure it reverberated off of the South Sisters walls, causing minor avalanches, and almost causing Greg to jump into the nearby lake, in an attempt to escape what was surely a mad charge by a bear…
Well, I’d like to say that I was only mildly amused that such a small creature might want to share my only gel pack for the day, but…That would be inaccurate. Instead, I hollered, so loud that I’m sure it reverberated off of the South Sisters walls, causing minor avalanches, and almost causing Greg to jump into the nearby lake, in an attempt to escape what was surely a mad charge by a bear, given my reaction…Hey, I didn’t know what had almost drilled into my face, just that I didn’t want it there…It was only after the shout, and hand waving, that I could recognize it for what it was, as it flew off just as quickly as it had flew into my air space.
Once my heart beats no longer matched the speed of his departing wings, we packed up, and headed off again, but this would not be the last time we saw the little daredevil…For a while, we followed several footprints in the snow, as they seemed to be following the same route as we were, but as we neared the base of The Husband, another mountain in this chain of mountains, they veered off in another direction, so our footprints were the only ones left in the snow behind us.
…they are swimming in water, and they make a strange chirping, almost cooing sound, as if imitating birds. Strange
We make our way to Eileen lake, our next campsite along this loop, and as we near its shore, we hear the strange chirping of several small voices, and notice that in the muck at the edge of the lake, it looks as if it is boiling. Boiling, that is, with hundreds of frogs, or toads, it’s hard to tell…They move away from the waters’ edge, so it’s hard to get a good look at them, but they are maybe 5 inches long, and have the warts of toads, yet they are swimming in water, and they make a strange chirping, almost cooing sound, as if imitating birds. Strange.
They seem to be the only inhabitants of this lake, and It seems more fitting to name the lake Frog lake, than Eileen. Still, we find a great site here, with an amphitheater of the best nature can give. Displayed before us for backdrop is, left to right, the Middle Sister, South, then The Husband, and in the foreground the valley, with a small stream winding through its middle like a ribbon, which eventually feeds Linton Creek, which gets its start out of Linton Meadows, one of the large snow fields we had passed through earlier.
…I had taken a few tentative steps into the muck on the bottom, and quickly sunk in, to the point that I feared any deeper, and I may not be able to get back out.
The stream seems to bend back on itself, almost to the point that from our perspective, it seemed that the water had learned to flow uphill, looking every bit like the ribbon candy I ate out of my Christmas stocking every year as a child. As we got here at a reasonable time, we walk the banks of the lake, looking for good photo opportunities, as well as a good place to go swimming…Or wading…Snow is still at its banks, and the bottom of the lake seems to be covered in mud, which is great if you’re a frog.
I had taken a few tentative steps into the muck on the bottom, and quickly sunk in, to the point that I feared any deeper, and I may not be able to get back out. Still, I managed to walk out on a downed tree that was submerged and get myself clean. Before turning in, we had to hang the bear bag, and Greg did a great job of finding a high branch, and securing the bag to the tree…So great, in fact, that as he tried to pull the bag back over the top of the branch for a better position, it got stuck.
…The tree refused to give it back, and I felt like Charlie Brown dueling with the tree that refused to give his kite back…
So stuck that pulling at it from all different angles, with both of us for weight, we could not budge it! The tree refused to give it back, and I felt like Charlie Brown dueling with the tree that refused to give his kite back. With resignation, Greg decided to give up, and would salvage as much of his line as he could the following morning.
The 46-mile circuit of trails around the third-, fourth- and fifth-highest peaks in the state is one of Oregon’s great multinight backpacking opportunities — and one that gives you plenty of those in-your-face views.
Yes, wish we had more opportunity to hike in Oregon, there are some beautiful places to see! Thanks for the comment!
The trail around Mount Hood is officially impassable at Eliot Creek, so the Three Sisters hike is a good alternative.
Excellent info, thank you for sharing this!
Three night backpack – camp at Camp Creek Trail junction, Moraine Lake, and a little beyond Sisters Spring.
Thanks for the info!