Tag Archives: pbr

The Epic Hike

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Across Suttle Lake from our campground there Lake Creek Trail goes to Camp Sherman It sounded like a nice hike.

(In my head, btw, Camp Sherman was an old West Town that had like… blacksmith demonstrations and stuff. It’s not. Sad times)

Here’s where the math gets fun.

The lake is about 3.5 miles around. Getting to the other side = 1.75 miles.

The trail was allegedly 4 miles, but it turned out to be longer.

Putting us over 6 miles. And if you’re me, the whole “coming back will take the same number of miles” didn’t register. So 6 is the TOTAL hike.

And, turns out the trail doesn’t take you to Camp Sherman. It takes you near. Where you get on another trail.

See where this is going?
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We had a pretty, but long long hike.

When we actually got to Camp Sherman this is what my friendly garmin told me
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7.39 miles.

We went to the one and only store in town (sadly not a blacksmith shop)  and ate the lunch of champions
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Artichoke dip, trail mix, and PBR.

Classy.

And then, on our way back, things got more ridiculous.

First up, if you’ve been moving for 3 hours, beer hits in pretty quick.

(Especially when you work on finishing off the sixer on the trail)
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(It happens.)

Second?

We’re walking in the middle of nowhere. What do we see ahead of us on the trail?

A dog.
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We look around for her owner.

No one.

Just the craziest dog I’ve ever seen.

She ran in circles around while we tried to look at her tags. There was a name (Libby) and a PDX phone number.

I got a little sad when we saw her phone number because this dog was so dumb I thought perhaps the simple dog from Hyperbole and a Half was lost again.

(simple dog lives in Bend. It could happen. I dream big)

I feed her, and that cemented in her tiny dog brain to follow us. We hiked a few miles with the world’s craziest dog scampering in and out of sight.

Then, when taking a picture of our canine friend, I realized I suddenly had phone service.

In the woods. Go figure.

I called the number on her tags and talked to a woman who was thrilled we’d found the dog. Which is good because we were less than thrilled at the prospect of figuring out what to do with this creature.
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She explained that Libby had chased a deer into the woods and they’d been searching for her.

We agreed to meet up at the lake. I hung up.

And then two deer ran across the path in front of us.

Followed by Libby.

Crap.

We chased her down and a little further up the trail, found campers who gave us some rope to use as a leash.
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Libby was not happy.

But we got her safely back to her owner.

And we got back to our yurt, 14.5 miles later, and settled in with some much needed hydration
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And that, my friends, was our epic hike. Over 5 hours long, drinking in the woods, and finding a dog.

I’m not sure if the moral of this story is that I should hike more, or never hike again. But it’s one of the two.