A Nordic silver lining to local wildfires?

Okay, it's a stretch to say that I've finally found a silver lining to the awful wildfire destruction of our local forests; but I recently discovered something not-so-awful about the whole mess. Still, I'm firmly in the camp of those who have been nearly despondent over having most of my high-country wilderness playgrounds go up in flames over the last several years. Until now, though, I've been hard-pressed to find anything positive amidst all the destruction. Until now.

On one of our recent sunny days, I made plans with my hiking and skiing buddy to do some cross-country skiing. I assumed we were headed to Hoodoo; but, as we were loading up, my friend asked, "Are you up for a little wilderness skiing today?"

As it happened, I specifically wanted to go longer and farther that day, so I readily agreed. Given my rudimentary backcountry skiing skills, I figured that I couldn't do any better than to have an experienced Nordic ski patroller as a guide; my wife seems to prefer that I keep such company, too. So, we loaded up and headed for the Santiam Sno-Park atop Santiam Pass.

It seems redundant, and I suppose it has something to do with funding, but the Sno-Park and Pacific Crest Trail parking lots are separate, even though they are right next door to each other. The PCT trailhead is not maintained at this time of the year, but the Sno-Park, of course, is. There is even a designated "snow play" area with a nice little sledding hill, so a wilderness expedition is not necessary to enjoy the area.

When we arrived, there were only two other cars in the parking lot, and they appeared to belong to the families that were sledding at the play area. We never saw another person once we headed out toward the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness Area boundary.

As wilderness forays are concerned, this one was pretty modest; and we probably didn't travel much more than about three miles. We headed northeast, so that we pretty much hooked up with, and paralleled, the PCT. We have hiked this portion of the PCT multiple times, but this was my first time in the area on skis.

I say we were "pretty much" on the PCT because the trail, and everything else up there, is buried under the snow. It's a very different perspective on an area that I'm otherwise quite familiar with. We glided along on a smooth, white surface that was several feet above the trail, the brush, the logs, the rocks ... everything. Almost everything.

The features that are most apparent in this portion (and much) of the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness are the burned, skeletal trunks of the trees that grew here prior to the B&B fire of 2003. And, yes - as hard as it is to believe - we are coming up on the 10th anniversary of an event that redefined the local wilderness as we know it.

This is where I managed to find the however-meager silver lining of the wildfire's legacy. As we worked our way into the wilderness area, there were few things to obstruct our progress. The magic carpet of white lifted us well above the ground level obstructions. There were no tree limbs to slow us down or slap us in the face and no dangerous tree wells to fall into (that will be a subject for another time).

Because of the lack of upper-story vegetation, the snow surface is surprisingly uniform and smooth. So, despite my general dissatisfaction with the condition of the forest, some of these burned-over areas provide unique and excellent backcountry skiing surfaces.

Keep in mind, however, that this is not a permanent condition. I know from hiking this area in the summer that there is a veritable sea of (mostly) lodgepole pine seedlings that will one day be tall enough to rise above even the deepest snows. As the forest regenerates, one of its early iterations will be an impenetrable jungle of young lodgepoles; so ski it while you can.

On the day of our outing, there was an air inversion; and, even though the temperature in Sisters never rose above freezing, the air temperature at the pass was a balmy 44º. And, during the uphill trek in, we began peeling off outer layers; and it felt to me as if the temperature was in the 60s!

Eventually, we reached a notch in the hills, near where the watershed drops down to the north toward the Eight Lakes Basin. We shed our packs and practiced a little skiing technique while exploring a bit. Finally, we cleared the snow off a log and enjoyed a warm, sunny lunch break and never even felt the need to don our outer layers of winter clothing. We were over a hill and away from the road, and the silence at the edge of the wilderness was astonishing. There was no sound whatsoever - like entering an enormous, white, sound-proof booth.

Since it was a mostly gradual (thank goodness) downhill run on the return route, we had a very pleasant ski out and made it back to the parking lot quickly. The tree trunks are generally widely enough spaced that there is time to plan your turns well in advance when skiing downhill. I surprised myself by actually being able to steer around trees, and snow conditions were ideal for my backcountry skis.

The area proved to be a great spot to experience a taste of the wilderness, yet it lies within easy reach. We decided that, for our next outing from that location, we would explore the area to the northwest, beyond the back (north) side of Hogg Rock.

To reach the Santiam Sno-Park, take Highway 20 west from Sisters for a distance of 20 miles. The Sno-Park is located on the right (north) side of the highway just past the (closed) PCT trailhead but before the turnoff to Hoodoo (on the left). Sno-Park permits are required at this location.

Winter sports enthusiasts are reminded that weather conditions are constantly changing, and they change fast. Always travel with plenty of warm clothing, food, water, and emergency equipment, especially in the more remote areas.

The area's wildfires have temporarily cleared out some excellent wide-open backcountry skiing opportunities, as seen here near Santiam Pass.