En route to Mount Hood

Getting to Mount Hood via public transportation took some time and planning. But it was worth it in the end even if I ended up not doing much there. It was cold, raining and once we got to a certain altitude, snowing even.

Although I had on the right clothing, I felt the chill and couldn’t imagine how the person with me felt in her rather skimpy clothing. (She may have not been dressed like a stereotypical thot from California but she certainly wasn’t dressed warm enough.) We had gone up there just because. There was no way we could do “winter” fun since I wasn’t about to snowboard and she wasn’t going to last for another 15 minutes up there. We decided it’d be best to just call it a day from there.

But before we had even made the “trek” up to Mount Hood’s Timberline Lodge, we chose to visit a market. Now, I want to say the bulk of locals seemed ok with me/us. However, there was one lady that just looked at me with so much absurd shock and disdain. I don’t know what her problem was but I think it’s safe to say that she was a racist. And it didn’t help much either that she kept coming out to look at me over and over. She clearly was a staff member and I don’t know how to feel about that. I am sure there were other people of color that must have stopped by this place before going northbound to snowboard. I’m sure I wasn’t the first person of color to have “graced” this place she worked at.

It was really bizarre and left a very bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I didn’t appreciate it. And in a typical environment, I probably wouldn’t have supported the market but I wasn’t sure where the other market was and if I (or the person with me) would have the energy to find the other market. Fortunately, the young guy donning the cash register was friendly and it helped that he was cute. I did overhear him say something about Hello Kitty and I did want to assume that it was a coincidence but I can’t help but to wonder if it had something to do with me and the other girl “gracing” this market.

So, it was a relatively good thing to finally see other people of color when we got to the “top” of the mountain aka Timberline Lodge. And these people of color seemed to be genuinely happy to see their “fellow” kind. I couldn’t help but to wonder if they could sniff out that like them, we were not from Oregon and if they could pinpoint exactly where we were from. (I think it’s safe to say that they were from the same state as us.)

As mentioned earlier, we didn’t do anything upon getting to Mount Hood. Just a bit of looking around and frolicking in the cold and out we went because neither of us was prepared to conquer Mount Hood.

From what I understand, Mount Hood is not for average hikers. I heard that even advanced hikers get led astray for some reason upon trying to find their way down back from the top of the mountain. Do I dare tackle it? Of course not. I am simply content with getting as close as I could possibly get to Mount Hood. Oh, and I should add that it made my day to see a crow hanging out by the ski lift as if it was the most natural thing to do.