Sled dogs, ski slopes and snowmobile journeys await on the volcanic peak that overlooks central Oregon.
Sled dogs, ski slopes and snowmobile adventures
Traversing winter’s snowy fields has always offered challenges — and plenty of recreational possibilities. Whether you prefer skis, snowshoes, sleighs or dog sleds, there’s a way to do that on Mount Bachelor, the volcanic peak that overlooks Central Oregon.
You can snowshoe the trails, slalom down the slopes or zip along snowmobile-style — or hop aboard a sled guided by Oregon Trail of Dreams musher Rachael Scdoris.
Born with a rare vision disorder, Scdoris was 8 years old in 1993 when her dad, Jerry, started their dog sled ride company — but she had been mushing since she was 3. In 2005, she became the first legally blind person to enter — and the next year, to enter and finish — Alaska’s grueling 1,049-mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race. Since then, she’s been the subject of a documentary, “Snowblind,” in 2009, won a Glamour Woman of the Year award, authored a book and become a champion cyclist.
On a crisp day last winter, Scdoris greets us at the trailhead across from the Mount Bachelor ski area, accompanied by Everest and Major Tom, her lead dogs. We’re invited to feed them their yummy bait water — a mixture of kibble, water and bacon grease to get them well-hydrated before exercise. Excited yapping and barking are near constant as the 10 dogs, Alaskan huskies all, are hitched to the sled for the hourlong ride.
Rachael loads her young son Julien onto the sled next to us, yells a quick command and, without any reins attached, we are off and ripping. The crew quiets down as we fly down the trail, hugging the snow berm around the curves, as the inside dogs deftly snap up an icy treat from the snow.
The mountains and forest unfold before us, the dogs meeting every challenge. We stop at the top of the trail for a doggy breather as Scdoris sets the prong brake. The hounds were soon ready to go and tugging so fiercely, the restrainer is forced deep into the ice. With a mighty tug, we’re off again — and all too soon, back in camp, greeted by 46 of our musher’s other dogs.
“We have 108 dogs,” she says. “We love them all, take great care of them and put them first when it comes to having fun on the trail.”
If snow machines are more your thing, head for Wanoga Snopark on Oregon’s Cascade Lakes National Scenic Byway. Amber Greiner, who owns Central Oregon Adventures, confesses that she “loves getting out there into the woods — being in the elements, no one around, adrenaline, wind in the face.” And her magic carpet of choice? It’s one of her fleet of 40 late-model, horsepower-laden snowmobiles. They sport the latest creature comforts — like heated seats and handgrips — and they’re stable and fast, if speed’s what you’re looking for.
Her company’s U.S. Forest Service permit encompasses 260 miles of groomed trails spread over 250,000 acres, offering semicustom guided tours only with a maximum of six machines per group. You can take a two-hour tour that highlights 20 to 30 miles of trails through the forest and scenic spots of the Cascade Range around Mount Bachelor. Or book a four-hour, 60- to 80mile ride featuring high-mountain terrain, meadows and untouched powder fields, plus a visit to remote Elk Lake Resort for a meal or cocoa break.
Donning helmets and jumpsuits, we opt for the two-hour trek, hitting the trail with our guide, Abel Davis, and a small group of fellow outdoors lovers. The machines are a lot quieter — and easier to ride — than I remember. We negotiate miles of trails, take in scenery both subtle and sublime, ford some small streams and open ’er up in the meadow straightaways, set against the craggy backdrop of Mount Bachelor, the Three Sisters and Broken Top. Davis patiently poses for a few photos, waits in the turnouts for meeker drivers — me — and escorts us all safely back to base.
It’s a splendid adventure, although you may want to check on trail conditions before going for a tandem ride. That back-seat passenger gets bounced around a fair bit. Choose a solo machine if the trails are badly rutted.
Then happy — snowy — trails.