Running Around Mt. Hood on the Timberline Trail

Running around a volcano was not something I ever expected to do – the explode-y kind or not. But here in the Pacific Northwest we have some majestic volcanoes that happen to have trails circumambulating them. The trails all feature breathtaking views, a variety of wildlife, and all the wildflowers you could possibly want. None of them are easy (it seems volcanos leave very dramatic terrain behind), but all of them are beautiful in their own special way.

Last year some of my friends ran around Mt. St. Helens in one day, and Mt. Rainier in three days, which are both on my list. But I definitely wanted a chance to circle a volcano, and was thrilled when we all agreed to head down to Oregon to run around Mt. Hood at the end of July. 

Circumambulating Mt. Hood is a combination of two trails. The PCT covers roughly 16 miles, and the Timberline Trail covers the remaining 25 miles. There are also a few alternates you can take that change the mileage, but we stuck with the “standard.” You’ll also see the mileage vary based on the report you’re reading, so just know it’s about 41 miles, with roughly 9,000 feet of elevation

The night before our adventure, we stayed in Government Camp – a tiny town packed with lodging for winter skiers, a few modest restaurants, and a convenience store nearby. It’s the perfect base for trail adventures.

We headed out from the Timberline Lodge at 5:15am. Dawn was breaking, so we immediately stashed our headlamps. We had decided to go clockwise around the mountain, which meant we began on the Pacific Crest Trail, heading west. The trail was wonderfully runnable and our spirits were high. It was going to be a great day of adventure!

The morning light slowly brightened and we were treated to a pastel sky with views of Mt. Jefferson to the south. After a few miles we got to Zigzag Canyon and marveled at the view of Mt. Hood to our right. As we dropped below treeline, we saw large patches of avalanche lilies and other wildflowers. Another open view to the west and we could see Mt. St. Helens in the distance. Multiple volcanoes and wildflowers already? What a treat before 7am!

After about 9 miles, we reached the first of many river crossings that day. To note – the PCT and Timberline trails in this area do not have any permanent bridges (with the exception of one by Ramona Falls.) All of the river crossings need to be done by utilizing logs, rock-hopping, or fording. Knowing the status of snowmelt in this area before attempting the route is crucial in order to avoid having a real crappy day.

After 9.5 miles, we waved goodbye to the PCT until many hours later. We arrived at Ramona Falls, a beautiful waterfall where we got a group shot with the creative use of roots and rocks to prop up a phone (good work, Sarah.) We were in good spirits and still feeling good.

After starting to cruise up an incline and we heard a shout – our friend Kari had come to join us for a bit! It was great to have her company for a few miles. We stopped and chatted with some other trail runners who commented that “the clockwise route was a bold choice.” Their preferred direction would be counterclockwise from Ramona Falls, and after completing the route, I think I would recommend that direction myself. Anyway, more on the direction to come…

We were in the forest for quite awhile, and just banging out the miles until we made it around a hairpin turn in the trail to see the best view yet of Mt. Hood, complete with wildflowers.

It was midday and we were really enjoying this section of the trail. (Later, we all agreed that the northwest side of the mountain is the best.) It was around 18 miles (the Eden Park area) where the wildflowers were simply incredible. 

Around 20ish miles, we all stopped to have a Birthday Cake Gu to celebrate Marna’s birthday! (Don’t worry, Kari baked an actual birthday cake, so we had a proper, non-running celebration later.)

This section had clearly seen fire in the past, so the trees were dead and stripped of their bark. But it left them with a silvery appearance that was quite striking against the bluebird sky. 

In a few spots we were able to see Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. Adams, all in one view. It was amazing.

The downed trees were weathered smooth and as we sat and swung our legs over them we noticed how nice the sun-warmed log felt on our sore glute muscles. We started talking about all of the sensory experiences in the life of a trail runner – scooping cold, glacial water into our hats to cool off, soaking our feet in streams or walking through warm sand. We thought it sounded like a trail runner spa, and… an obstacle course. A spa-bstacle course. Great idea, though, right? Okay, rather niche, I’ll admit.

We ran down sandy switchbacks until we reached the sketchiest river crossing – the Eliot Branch. It’s an area that’s prone to severe washouts, so the trail is not that clear or stable, to be honest.

As we slid our way down the loose rock and sand to a large log to cross, Marna was edging her way around a large, crumbling boulder. A rock beneath her gave way and in an instant, her feet were in the fast-moving river. Luckily, she had a decent grip on the large boulder and Sarah got to her in a flash to help keep her from being swept away. It was a scary moment that reminded me (yet again) that nature is no joke. 

Our friend Kari was on the other side of the river, waiting for us at the Cloud Cap trailhead and campground. Kari had brought, much to our delight, cold Cokes and frozen Snickers – what a treat! We had done about 25 miles, with 16 to go (including the biggest climb and two more sizeable river crossings), and it was already dinnertime.

We said goodbye to Kari and began the climb up towards the highest point on the trail. The trail became rocky and barren with nary a wildflower to be seen. At mile 30ish, we reached the highest point at 7,350 feet and I pulled out some whisky for a celebratory dram. I hoped it would hearten us a bit for the remaining miles as the time continued to tick by.

The trail crosses few snowfields on this section. Despite being from the Upper Midwest, I’m not that comfortable in the snow. (Keep in mind, in the Midwest, it’s all flat and you’re never on a mountainside.) But since I had my trekking poles, I felt confident. We were hiking along, chatting, and suddenly I was lying in the snow, clinging to one pole jammed in the snow to keep from sliding down towards the rocks below. Luckily, the pitch of the snowfield was not that steep. However, it led down towards a boulder field I didn’t want to personally experience with my legs, arms, or face. Ellen, an experienced mountaineer, was at my side in seconds, and talked me through how to safely get upright again. 

The sun was moving quickly, and we realized we wouldn’t make the final river crossings in the daylight. We were trying to move along as quickly as we could, but fading daylight isn’t known for making a rock and root laden trail easier to see, so… yeah, it was slow going.

We kept trying to figure out how many miles we had left, but no one’s watches matched, and the trail isn’t marked with mileage. After checking the map multiple times, we estimated seven miles. We ran for awhile, checked again, and somehow it was still seven miles. It appeared to be the seven miles that never #%$*ing ended.

After crossing a few small creeks, we finally reached White River, our final crossing. It was pitch black, and we struggled to find a log or rock-hopping option safe to use. The water was moving, so strolling across nonchalantly wasn’t really an option. After a brief discussion, we decided to link arms and cross as a sweaty, tired, human chain of badassery. We made it across safely. 

And then we quickly learned that the remaining 2 or so miles back on the PCT is completely sand. Uphill sand. Effing UPHILL SAND. I was thankful, yet again, for my trekking poles. They really allowed me to get into a decent grinding groove and not lose all uphill momentum to the shifting earth beneath me.

We could finally see the lights of the Timberline Lodge up ahead – our lighthouse on these windy, sandy seas. At one point the trail veered sharply right, away from the Lodge, and we responded with groans. (Again, the miles that wouldn’t end.) Turns out it was going around a steep ravine, sooo, I guess that’s fine.

As we got closer, we saw a single headlamp winking at it us in the distance. Kari! She was seated on a boulder, patiently waiting for us. There were hugs all around, and a few exhausted, happy tears. We were DONE!

So, what did I learn?

-Crossing rivers takes more time than I anticipated. This may sound obvious, but stay with me. For most of my trail running adventures, I’ve had the absolute luxury of using bridges built by the Forest Service or WTA volunteers (thank you!) It’s not just about keeping your feet dry, but getting across safely, without getting swept away in the current. This happens to hikers every year, so I appreciate every bridge. If you’re curious to learn more about safely fording a river, check out this video.

-I would go a different direction if I did it again. The trail runners we spoke to said their preferred route was counterclockwise from Ramona Falls (versus our clockwise from the Timberline Lodge). It allows you to get done with the sand right away, and complete the bigger river crossings early in the day (the water will be lower in the morning). Also, if you’re interested in photography, I think the sun will light up Mt. Hood better in that direction. Not to say that the route is easy either way – the elevation gain is what it is. There are pros and cons for either direction.

-41 miles is a LOT to do, self-supported, in one day. We’ve all done plenty of longer supported ultras, and self-supported 30ish mile routes in a day, so what’s 10 extra miles? Well, turns out the extra mileage plus the river crossings made it a longer day than I had anticipated. (Maybe I was just cocky.) Anyway, lesson learned.

-Trekking poles are awesome. I don’t normally use poles on my adventures, but I feel they were extraordinarily helpful for this route. They made me feel much more confident on steeper climbs, while crossing rivers, and crossing snowfields. My only issue was that I didn’t have an easily accessible place to store them on my ancient Salomon pack. (I was ogling Marna’s UltrAspire and Sarah’s Ultimate Direction, both with specific loops for poles.) I’ll have to fix that for next summer since I want to do more routes like this one.

-Communication via the Garmin inReach (between devices) was incredibly useful for us and our spectacular crew woman. Using two inReach devices makes it incredibly easy to communicate outside of cell phone service. One device is with the runners, and the other with the crew. Runners periodically text the crew their location and time of day, which is incredibly helpful if you’re hoping to meet up. If you’re under heavy cover of trees when you text, or in a deep canyon, it can take awhile to send messages, so it’s not perfect. But it’s certainly better for crew to have a rough idea of where runners are so they aren’t waiting for hours (or be worried that runners are lost, etc.) Also, friends and family can track your location from home. While not exciting (think paint drying), it’s still fun. Of course, the original reason for purchasing an inReach was for safety purposes, but it can do so much more. (I think I’ll expand on this in a future blog post.)

-Going on long adventures together really highlights everyone’s strengths and contributions to the group. Now that we’ve been going on longer adventures together for a few years, we really know what each of us bring to our adventures. Be it pre-event logistical planning, choosing the safest river crossing, dealing with navigation, knowing plants and flowers, or even just bringing that little extra bit of fun (or costumes)!

If you’re looking to run/hike the Timberline trail, check out these posts from Clever Hiker and Oregon Hikers.

Circumambulating Mt. Hood with my friends was the highlight of my summer. I can’t wait for more volcanic adventures next year!