Chapter 2 ~

“Hike On!” Our First Day on the Trail

The morning sun filtered through the cedar trees as Trail Guides, Steve and Jess West, met the small group at the trailhead. “Hello, everyone!” Said Jess as Steve echoed with “Goodmorning!”
Though they’d all met the evening before at the lodge, this was the first time they’d all stood together beneath the trees, ready to begin. After everyone introduced themselves, Steve, or as the kids called him, Mr. W., unfolded a very detailed trail map and Jess passed smaller copies of the same map to all the hikers.
“Does anyone know the word, ‘orienting’ or what it means to be oriented?” Jess asked the group of curious young faces and smiling parents as she handed the last map to Justine, Malcolm’s mom.
“I do!” Miles raised his hand and shouted gleefully. “It means to know what’s going on around you!”

“Yes,” Jess smiled back. “It means being aware of what’s around you—and especially, where you are!”
“We call this ability to find ourselves along our path and to know the way we need to go, ‘orienteering.’ And a big part of orienteering is knowing our surroundings, which way we’re going, and how to find our way safely home. For us, it’s going to also include some, Uh-oh! I think I’m lost! rules and basically how we find you, or how you—with all that you know about what’s around you—find your way.”
“This is important,” said Mr. W., “and we’ll go over a few things now, and talk a little more about how we help ourselves to find our way as we hike the trail.”
“Did everyone bring their compass?” Jess asked, and everyone nodded, yes—even the parents had theirs!
“Great!” said Mr. W. “So, gather around close as we go over our map and take a good look at our trail. It’s very important to have this picture in our mind, as well as on the map. We really want to know what our surroundings look like, so we’re not surprised by anything. That’s the first step in orienteering. Let’s look at the map and see what information it contains…”
“This is the Trailhead,” he pointed to the spot clearly marked on the map. “This is where we are right now. It’s the place where our hike begins and where it ends, as well. This kind of trail is what’s called a loop trail. We made each one of you a small copy of this map, we want you to keep it with you all the time we’re on our hike! Let’s look over it before we get started, so you all know where we’re going, and where we want to safely return to in three days after we finish our hike and wilderness camping.”
“Is everyone ready!” Mr. W. asked the group. “I’m ready!” said Nia.
How long will we hike this morning, Mr. W.? Malcolm asked.
“Well, it will probably take us about two hours to hike about two miles before we get to our first rest stop this morning. Our pace, or the length of trail we walk in a certain amount of time, will be about a mile an hour. Think of our pace as sort of like how far and how fast a car travels, which we measure in miles per hour. But we have a lot of things to see and talk about as we go. Since our hike is designed to discover new things, we’re not trying to walk at a fast pace. Our pace will be slow—we want to look and listen and even touch new things as we go. That takes time.
“Our hiking adventure begins here at our trailhead [CN1], we’ll hike for two miles before we take our first rest stop and connect to Station WIL using our satellite connection. It looks like we have everything packed and ready, so let’s get going now. We have so much more to see this morning before we stop to call Patty and Teo at their Ranger Station studio on the other side of the country! Everyone ready? Let’s go!”

As parents helped kids adjust their backpacks, the five adults and three kids stepped into the dense cedar forest and onto the trail.
Immediately, the light dimmed as the tight canopy of ancient trees enveloped them. The air was clean and filled with the fragrance of the soft forest floor covered in pine needles dotted with pinecones and twigs. Here and there, where it was able to catch a beam of light, a lovely green rhododendron abounded in glistening broad-leaf beauty. The stillness was contagious as the group hiked further along the narrow trail in silence for several minutes, until they came to a spot where the trail broadened and they were able to gather in a small group once more.
“We always like to begin our hike in silence,” said Jess. “It gives us a moment to become…what’s our word?” she asked the group in general.
“Oriented!” beamed Malcolm.
Jess nodded, returning Malcolm’s happy smile.
“We want to take some time to get to know where we are and what it feels like to be there,” Malcolm added.
“But why should we always be quiet?” Miles asked.
“Because that’s how we can listen to everything there,” answered Nia. “We need to know if we’re alone in the woods or there’s someone or something close by. Like a squirrel or fox!” she added as her grandfather smiled with pride.
“We also want to pay attention to how everything smells,” said Mr. W. “Smells brought to us on the wind can tell us if everything is okay up ahead of us or even behind us. We need to know these things to keep ourselves safe.”
The group stood quietly testing the slight breeze filtering through the forest.
“It smells like the earth should smell,” said Nia. “Like it’s old and kind and good.”
“Yes,” said Nia’s grandfather, George Talltree. “Look at these ancient trees,” he pointed to one of the giants close by with its trunk so wide that two children could barely wrap their arms around it. The bark was deeply furrowed, soft to the touch, and carried the scent of rain and time. High above, the canopy filtered sunlight into shifting patches, dappling the trail with gleaming white light and shadow. The children could see glistening dust particles and tiny insects floating through the beams.
“Look at this!” cried Malcolm as he gently pushed his feet into the plush forest floor beside the trail. Everyone began to look at the ground now, searching as if really seeing it for the first time. The forest understory whispered with life—ferns curled like question marks, moss blanketed fallen logs, and tiny mushrooms peeked from the pine-needle carpet. A squirrel chattered somewhere overhead, unseen but clearly unimpressed by the small gathering below.
After a few minutes, Jess knelt beside a mossy stump and placed her compass flat. “Let’s take a moment to check our bearings,” she said. “Who remembers how to match the compass needle to North?”
Malcolm crouched beside her, eyes bright. “We turn the dial until the red needle lines up with the N,” he said.
“Exactly,” Jess smiled. “Now look around. What do you see behind us?”
Nia turned and pointed. “The trail curves past that big cedar with the broken branch. That’s our backtrail.”
Mr. W. nodded. “Always know what’s behind you. If you ever need to retrace your steps, your memory of the trail will help you find your way.”
Miles looked up. “So, we’re not just hiking forward—we’re remembering backward too?”
“Exactly,” said Jess. “That’s part of being oriented. We know where we are, where we’re going, and how to return to the trailhead or our last safe spot if we need to go there.”
“Let’s play a game while we hike—we call it the trailblazing game. The person in the lead gets to take us to the next question or stopping point on the trail. After we stop to have our discussion, we switch trailblazers. The one with the most questions gets to lead the trail roundup discussion around the campfire this evening. Who wants to be the first trailblazer now?” asked Mr. W.
Both Miles’ hands quickly shot up as he jumped along with them.
“Alright, Miles, why not take the lead until we reach our first question mark on the trail, he laughed. “I’ll be right here behind you if you need help, and Jess will stay behind us all with your mom’s and Nia’s grandfather to make certain we’re all okay. Don’t hesitate to ask that all-important question as we go. We’re on a discovery hike, remember? We want to learn about everything around us, and we can’t learn if we can’t or don’t ask questions, right?”
“Right!” Everyone chimed in.
They took about ten steps before Miles pointed to a very leafy green bush beside the trail. The group halted at the bush to listen to Jess. “That’s a rhododendron bush,” she said. “It’s part of the understory of this forest.”

“What’s an understory?” asked Betsy, Miles’ mom.
“While this forest isn’t the same as a jungle forest, just the same, the tops of these tall cedars form a canopy over the forest floor or the ground we walk on, and all the larger plants that grow and thrive in the shade and soil produced by these trees are its understory,” Jess explained. “These plants and the smaller ones in the shrub layer are what help the wildlife survive. Although, every part of the rhododendron plant is poisonous—oh, you can touch it, Malcolm…it’s only poisonous for us to eat any part of—it helps small creatures find hiding places from storms, and when it’s blooming in the spring, the flowers help feed the pollinators—like the bees—allowing them to survive in our forestlands.”
“The roots of the trees and shrubs keep the soil or what’s called the forest floor soft and allow water to be stored close to the surface during dryer seasons. It produces mist in the mornings in the forest, and it all works together for the good of the plants and animals who call this forest home,” added Mr. W. “Let’s hike on up the trail and see what else we can find. Nia, it’s your turn to lead the way!”
As they ventured further along the trail, their pace slowed until the wonder of their surroundings brought them all to a standstill.

The forest pause & orientation

The group stood quietly beneath the towering cedars, their trunks wide enough that two children could barely wrap their arms around one. The bark was deeply furrowed, soft to the touch, and carried the scent of rain and time. High above, the canopy filtered sunlight into shifting patches, dappling the trail with gold and shadow.
At their feet, the forest understory whispered with life—ferns curled like question marks, moss blanketed fallen logs, and tiny mushrooms peeked from the pine-needle carpet. A squirrel chattered somewhere overhead, unseen but clearly unimpressed by the intrusion.
Jess knelt beside a mossy stump and placed her compass flat. “Let’s take a moment to check our bearings,” she said. “Who remembers how to match the compass needle to North?”
Malcolm crouched beside her, eyes bright. “We turn the dial until the red needle lines up with the N,” he said.
“Exactly,” Jess smiled. “Now look around. What do you see behind us?”
Nia turned and pointed. “The trail curves past that big cedar with the broken branch. That’s our backtrail.”
Mr. W. nodded. “Always know what’s behind you. If you ever need to retrace your steps, your memory of the trail will help you find your way.”
Miles looked up. “So, we’re not just hiking forward—we’re remembering backward too?”
“Exactly,” said Jess. “That’s part of being oriented. We know where we are, where we’re going thanks to our map, and how to return to the trailhead or our last safe spot if we need to go there.”

Ever higher

As the group moved on again, they noticed the trail had become slightly steeper and they were climbing a little as they hiked. Mr. W. told them that they were headed to the highest point of their trail. “The elevation here is just over 600 feet, so we’re not mountain climbing,” he said. “We’re just walking to the top of this knoll or small hill within this mountain range.”
The trees thinned a little as the path guided them into a clearing and onto a small rocky knoll where the forest ahead seemed to part before them just so they could take in the spectacular view across the treetops toward the majestic distant mountain peaks. The tallest was still snowcapped, and the sight was breathtaking. Again the group stood in awe as Jess and Mr. W. named the peaks before them, telling their individual stories and mountain legends.
While the guides talked, Nia found a rock just her size to sit on. She rummaged through her backpack until she found her journal sketchbook and small collection of pencils. With her own artistic eye and hand, she began sketching the scene before her—forest treetops and mountain grandeur. As she worked, the scene began to take shape on her journal page. Nia sketched with the assurance that no one else needed to appreciate her beautiful mountain scene besides herself. Her father watched her work as his studying gaze shifted between her page and the scene before him.
Malcolm and his mom, Justine, stood with the guides, pointing to the peaks and asking questions about their size and age and how far away they were from them. Miles and his mom stood listening as they talked while taking in every feature of the panorama before them. Miles didn’t want to forget any of this.
“You should get out your camera and take a picture of this,” Betsy said. “Although the picture is never as perfect as seeing it for yourself, that photo will help to always bring the scene back to you. Here. Let me help you get your camera out of your backpack.”
[IMG: Visual needed for this scene.]
“We should call Patty and Teo at Ranger Station WIL from here, Mr. & Mrs. W., Miles said after his final photo. They would probably like to see all this too!”
“That’s a great idea, Miles!” said Jess. We’re out of the trees and up high enough that we should get a good satellite connection from here,” she added.
Mr. W. helped get the mini satellite dish set up on one of the largest rocks while Jess unpacked the laptop.
The clearing was rocking enough that the laptop had its own rock to rest on and the kids each had a seat to sit on. Malcolm and Miles’ moms had their own rock chairs while Steve and Jess chose to stand behind the group so everyone could be on camera. It was a perfect setup for a perfect scene. Jess checked all the angles and made certain she could get the laptop back to the same position after they moved it to show Teo and Patty their surroundings.
“This is going to be awesome!” Malcolm cheered.

Satellite Link to Station WIL

With the satellite connection established, the group gathered around the laptop as Jess initiated the video call to reporting rangers Patty and Teo at Ranger Station WIL. The screen flickered to life, and soon familiar faces appeared, smiling and ready to hear all about their morning hike.

Patty greeted them warmly, “Hello, everyone! It’s wonderful to see you all out there in the forest. How’s the hike going so far?”
Malcolm, Miles, and Nia were so excited and had so many things to tell, that they hardly knew where to begin, so they sat quietly beaming at the image of Teo and Patty for just a moment until Steve spoke up. He shared their progress, and Jess suggested the kids begin by telling Teo and Patty where they were right now and the breathtaking views from the knoll.
Nia was the first to move and she got up and picked up the laptop to pan the camera around their knoll to the far off mountains, but first a look back at the forest they had just walked out of.
This is where we came from, Teo and Patty. We were in that forest and we walked out onto this hill or knoll where we are now,” she said as she panned the camera back to everyone seated on the rocks. They all smiled and waved.
“…and this is what we’re looking at right now,” Malcolm hopped up as he took charge being the ranger’s anchorman and tour guide. He stretched his arm toward the faraway mountain vista and stepped aside as Nia moved the camera closer to the edge of the rocky knoll. Miles hopped to the side of the camera shot to begin a report on why it’s so important to know all about your surrounds.
“Mr. W. said that Alaskan Bush Pilot and adventurer Jerry Jacques said it’s all about situational awareness. ‘What’s going on all around us, no matter where we are!”
Jess popped in and quietly took the laptop camera while Nia jumped into the shot, as well. “We have to know where we’re going—looking ahead—but look back and remember our backtrail, too!” Nia said. “We learned so much this morning. I hope I can remember it all.”
“We looked at maps this morning and studied them, and how to use our compass with our maps. Mr. W. said there’s lots and lots more to know about ‘orienteering’ but we’re learning some basic stuff. We can always study and look for more information on the internet to become better orienteers,” he said.
“We studied about those big cedar trees and what was in the forest we were walking through. We learned about the big trees being a canopy and the smaller bushes being part of the understory,” Nia said proudly of her new knowledge.
“We even learned the names of some of the bushes like rhododendron and studied the ferns and mushrooms and moss that are what Mrs. W. called part of the ‘forest floor,’” said Miles.
“Wow! You guys are learning so much!” I wish we were there with you!” Teo said as Jess kept the camera focused on the three smiling faces, beaming broadly before a background of lush treetops and majestic mountains.
“It sounds like you’re having so much fun while you’re learning all this new stuff about the forest and wilderness, too,” Patty chimed in.
“Yeah! We even played a game to see who could lead the way on the trail and ask questions. We learned a lot just by asking questions,” Miles said. “I think Nia won, so she gets to lead the campfire chatter tonight.”
“Well, we have a better understanding of your trail so far,” said Teo, “and we want to hear so much more this evening when we have our own virtual campfire chatter on our Teams connection. We better sign out for now because we don’t want to run your laptop battery too low.”
“We can’t wait to hear more this evening, and we’ll let you know what our fans think about this broadcast report. Till then, thank you everyone, and stay oriented and happy on your trail!”
“Hike on!” became their signoff and the rallying cry for the hikers to get going again.
After their lively exchange, and the group said their goodbyes, they were all feeling more connected and inspired to continue their adventure. Jess carefully packed the satellite equipment then checked her watch, and before they all got up, she announced: “It’s 11:30, just a little early, but I think this would be a perfect spot for our lunch break. We still have a few miles to go before we get to our campsite, but I think it would be a good idea to have our trail lunch now and perhaps get to our campsite a little early. There’s lots of stuff to see there, too, and we could all use a little food fuel to keep us going…right?”
“Right!!!” Three very lively kids and three not-so-lively parents chimed in as one.
Lunchtime on the beautiful rocky hilltop was perfect with cool water to drink, tuna fish and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some mixed-nut trail mix and dried-fruit snacks to polish it off. At the end of their meal, everyone began their own cleanup into special trash bags they brought with them in their packs. Each pack had become just a little lighter now as some of their food was consumed, so carrying their trash out with them added nothing new to the weight of their packs.
“Alright, hikers,” Mr. W. said as they finished their cleanup, “let’s get our backpacks strapped and hike on. We have more trails to explore and more discoveries ahead! We’re scheduled to get back to them tomorrow evening while we’re around our campfire. There is a big time difference between where we are here on the trail in Oregon and where they’re located in southern Pennsylvania. They are actually four hours ahead of us. So, we’ll call first thing in the evening after we complete our day hikes to update them on our progress. But, for today, let’s keep hiking. We want to have plenty of time this evening to pitch our tents and get our campfire going before dark.”
Malcolm exchanged a puzzled glance with Miles at Mr. W.’s last sentence then shrugged, smiled, and walked away.
They continued their journey down the trail, energized by their yummy trail lunch and so excited with all the stories they had shared with Teo and Patty via their satellite connection to the other side of the country.

Afternoon on the trail

The trail on this stretch wove up and down for a while, but soon the hikers were in a gradual descent. They began to notice and identify a few other trees, such as a few Douglas fir, which Mr. W. said was the state tree of Oregon, and one or two Western hemlocks. They moved along quietly now feeling the noonday warmth and listening to the deep-forest sounds.
“Stop and listen,” said George. “Do you hear the woodpecker. That bird is looking for food in the tree it’s. That’s how it works to earn its living,” he said. Nia and all the others stood quietly to the sound of the far-away tap, tap, tapping.
“That woodpecker is named a Red-Breasted Sapsucker,” Jess said to the giggles of the two boys. “Yep, that’s its name.”
“You boys are lucky your parents named you Miles and Malcolm,” Mr. W. grinned, and now it was their moms’ turn to giggle.
“Listen a minute longer,” Jess held up a cautionary hand to keep the group from moving. “Can you hear the little flute song the thrush sings?”
They all listened intently for a moment.
“I hear it! It’s so beautiful,” said Nia softly to her grandfather.
“That could be your song, Nia,” George said as he smiled to his daughter. “You should keep that music in your heart as your very own, now.”
“Do you have a special bird’s song of your own, Mr. George?” Malcolm asked.
“Yes. Mine is the sound of the raven. I’ve had it for a very long time,” he said.
“What does a raven song sound like?”
“It’s not an easy sound. The raven sounds like he is speaking inside a cave…not like a crow who shouts a caw for his song. But to me, the raven speaks of quiet mornings in a canyon, when the world still felt new.”
His words added to the stillness.
Mr. W.’s voice soon broke the silence. “We’ll probably hear some crows cawing soon,” said Mr. W. “but we may not hear a raven today. There are more crows here than ravens.”
A squirrel broke their thoughts as it chattered above, then began leaping across the trail as the group moved on. “I wish I could jump like that,” said Miles watching the aerobatics above.
As the hikers turned a bend, a doe and her fawn stepped onto the trail ahead. She stopped motionless for a moment to look their way, then flagged her long tail with a flash of brilliant white and jumped into the woods followed closely by her young spotted fawn.
“Wow! That was awesome! Beautiful!” The hikers’ voices echoed one another.
“She’s probably taking her baby down to the stream for a drink right now,” Jess said. “Their version of a mid-day break.”
“And we’ll be at the bridge-crossing of Briar Creek in about ten minutes, if we keep moving as well,” Mr. W. said. “It’s running down from that taller peak on our right, cutting its way through the forest on our right, headed toward our campground beside the lake. And what direction are we heading?”
“Our heading is to the northeast!” shouted Malcolm.
“Exactly right,” said Mr. W. “So that peak on our right is on our east side, or what we call our east flank.”
More daylight was visible now through the canopy as the trees thinned. Just then, a crow flew overhead and another on a branch nearby uttered his distinctive “caw.”
“There’s a crow!” Nia pointed to the fleeting black bird above.
The conversations began again about birds and streams and deer along the trail, when suddenly the forest was behind them. The giant cedars and Douglas fir, and hemlock gave way to a meadow clearing with tall red alders along the trail. As they walked further downward, the trail meandered around some smaller boulders. Suddenly, the sound of running water began to fill the air, a gentle crescendo guiding their steps. Cutting their path, a tumbling stream—Briar Creek— cascaded over the rock bed it had carved, its channel shaped over many decades.
The hikers gathered quietly on the bridge, soaking in the moment—just as many had done before them. They stood in silence, each one tracing the stream’s journey with their eyes, as if following a story written in water. Trees sheltered the stream as their gaze followed its course upward toward its source on the mountain, until Jess pointed their attention to the downstream where the terrain flattened and opened up revealing a grassy meadow, lightly dotted with alder shrubs, bramble thickets, and wild blueberries. The stream slowed and widened in the meadow, still adhering to its bank, but more peacefully as it ceased its wild course down the mountain.
“Come on, hikers,” Mr. W. waved the group forward off the bridge. “Hike on! The campground is just ahead!”