Going the Other Way
You never know what the conditions will be like in late June at Crater Lake National Park. This year the area experienced a rather large winter snowpack, so the hiking trails are still buried under feet of snow. After tugging on our waterproof hiking boots, we slog down the park’s portion of the Pacific Crest Trail. The path alternates between clear patches and mounds of snow and we realize the flowers we came to see will not be revealing themselves for another few weeks. No one else on the trail, though. The silence permeating the wilderness provides space for thoughts to land on melting snow and sublimate in the bright sunshine.
A different experience awaits us in the more visited areas of the park higher up on the caldera rim and at the visitor centers. Because the road around the lake remains closed and hiking trails are blocked by snow, the throng of vacationers are congregated in smaller areas. Some tourists choose to disregard “trail closed” signs and venture out on steep slippery slopes without proper equipment. I imagine the rangers in this severely understaffed national park muttering, “Oh well, it’s their life to lose.”
I’m more annoyed this year with tourists who only see nature as a place to take selfies and buy t-shirts. It seems they outnumber those of us who view trekking into the wilds as a spiritual pilgrimage. I’m saddened to see this disconnect from nature becoming all the more prevalent in the age of Instagram. Oh well, it’s their life to lose. To avoid adding to the over-crowded conditions, we head out of the park and down to the Rogue River, seeking a trail away from all the commotion.
We discover a track going downstream along the river bank, a path we haven’t previously explored. It begins at a popular viewpoint, but goes the other way. We find no one else on the trail and breathe a sigh of relief. Beautiful wildflowers combined with moments of watching thoughts mingle with a flowing stream erase the agitation flowing in my mind. Despite the Vajrayana Buddhist prescription to use the energy of afflictive emotions as part of the path, sometimes you just need to go the other way—the one less traveled by.