CLIMBING THE SOUTH SISTER

CATEGORY: CENTRAL OREGON
PHOTO: THREE SISTERS.  SOUTH SISTER ON LEFT

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It was the summer of 1964.  Jari was eleven.  Her friend, Mary Nuchols was visiting for the day.  Someone had given me directions for how to get to the west side of the South Sister via a dirt road that was between it and Brokentop.  This person had said that it was an easy hike from that road to the top of the mountain.  Jari and Mary and I decided to give it a try.  The girls said they did not want to climb the mountain, but would be happy to play in the woods while I did.  I think my common-sense quotient at that time was about equal to someone maybe half as old as Jari.

At any rate that is what we did.  I had no concern that I was leaving two girls alone in the woods by themselves.  Were there cougars or bears?  It never crossed my mind.  Was I placing them or myself in danger?  How could that be?  I thought I was being responsible by providing food and water and making sure the car had enough gas.  Probably all the Dumb Blonde jokes in the world were written about me.

As it turned out, the person who had given me directions was correct.  It was just a long hike up, first walking and then wading through cinders.  Being a marathon dancer, my legs were definitely up to a long up-hill slog.  As I got near the top, the ascent became steeper and the cinders became deeper so that I was sliding back half a step for each step up.  I knew I was getting near the top when there was nothing but sky beyond the edge of the world ahead.  For the last fifty feet I crawled.  The slope was so steep, I was practically crawling anyway.  I crawled up to the edge and looked over.

I had heard that people’s hair actually did stand on end when they were alarmed or frightened, but I had never believed it until now.  I could feel my scalp prickling as my hair notified me that the whole long length of it was trying to do push-ups.  I looked down, down, DOWN an almost vertical drop clear to the Green Lakes Basin.  It must have been at least a mile down because according to my atlas, the South Sister is 10,358 ft. high, Bend is 3500 ft. and the Green Lakes are 4700.

I took a few deep breaths.  After a long look across half the state of Oregon, I pushed my eyes back where they had been before and crawled away.

The South Sister has two peaks.  I was at the top of the south one, which is not the top of the mountain.  I looked over to the north peak and evaluated the distance.  I would have to go down toward the north, and then up again. It would be through cinders that were almost knee deep, and it was steep, steep, steep.

Believe it or not, I thought of the girls and decided against it.  Later I learned that there is a lake at the top of the north peak, and I was almost sorry I hadn’t done it.  If I had been by myself, I surely would have–and then, knowing me, I would have gone swimming in the icy lake to boot!

Even though it was well into summer, there were still several good sized snow fields on the west side of the mountain.  The snow was not deep but the fields were broad and slightly mushy.  I had avoided these on the way up because it was easier to walk on the ground.  On the way down it was a different thing.  I was wearing a light, moisture repellent jacket.  I took it off, turned it up-side-down and tied the arms around my upper legs so that the back was over the seat of my pants.  THEN I SLID DOWN ALL THE SNOW FIELDS!  What fun!  It took me no time at all to get to the bottom.

Jari and Mary were playing happily on a rock outcropping and were sorry I had gotten back so soon.  Had I thought of rattlesnakes that hung out in rock outcroppings?  NO.

I told them about crawling up to the top and looking down at the Green Lakes Basin.  They were almost ready to climb up themselves so they too could look over the edge and see that hair raising sight.

But not quite.  Jari always did have more sense than I had.