Spending time in the great outdoors with my sons is one of the things I cherish most, and our recent hike at Clear Lake, Oregon was meant to be another beautiful day of adventure, photography, and bonding. The plan was simple: enjoy the crisp mountain air, nearly circumnavigate the lake, and introduce my 15-year-old son to my old Nikon D3100 while carrying my 1-year-old on my back. What started as a picturesque trek quickly turned into an endurance test one that taught me a hard but valuable lesson.

The Journey Begins

The day started off perfectly. The skies were clear, and the lake’s deep blue waters reflected the towering evergreens surrounding it. With my youngest snug in his carrier, my oldest was getting hands-on experience with the Nikon D3100, learning how to frame shots, adjust settings, and capture the breathtaking scenery. He’s taken an interest in photography lately, and this was the perfect place for him to practice snow-capped peaks in the distance, the stillness of the water, and golden light filtering through the trees.

The hike around the lake was mostly smooth, with patches of snow scattered along the trail. We took our time, stopping to take photos of the tall pines, reflections on the water, and even a lone, weathered tree standing defiantly in the middle of the lake. Everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

The Fall

I had been careful navigating the snow-covered sections, but one patch of hidden ice caught me completely off guard. Before I knew it, my feet flew out from under me. My immediate instinct was to stay upright as much as possible to protect my youngest son from injury, so I shifted my weight. The move saved him but cost me.

As I hit the ground, a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I knew immediately that it wasn’t just a simple twist. This was bad.

Survival Mode

My 15-year-old quickly jumped into action. I asked him to find two sturdy sticks for a makeshift splint while I tested my foot to see if I could put any weight on it. The pain was intense, but I could still move enough to push through. We had about two miles left to go to reach the truck, so there wasn’t much choice but to keep moving.

As we hobbled along, another problem arose—the bridge we needed to cross was out. The only option was to take an unofficial hiker-made detour, which added another two miles to our journey. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, and I knew we had to move fast if we wanted to avoid getting stuck in the dark.

A Stroke of Luck

By the time we made it to the main road, exhaustion was setting in, and my ankle was screaming in protest. Just as I started mentally preparing for another grueling stretch to the truck, a kind family stopped and offered us a ride. I can’t begin to express how grateful I was at that moment. That simple act of kindness got us safely back to the truck and, eventually, back home.

The Aftermath

As soon as we got home, I headed straight to the ER. X-rays confirmed that nothing was broken, but I had severe muscle and tendon damage. A painful but fortunate outcome I knew it could have been much worse.

Lessons Learned

This hike was supposed to be a day of adventure and photography, but it ended up being a lesson in preparedness, resilience, and the importance of having a backup plan. Next time, I’ll be more mindful of hidden hazards, bring shoe spikes or a walking stick, and ensure we have an emergency plan if something goes wrong.

Despite everything, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. My oldest son stepped up when it mattered, my youngest stayed safe, and we all made it back in one piece. Clear Lake is still an incredible place, and once I’ve recovered, I plan to return this time, with an even greater respect for the unpredictable nature of the wilderness.

Final Thought

Sometimes, the greatest adventures come with the greatest challenges. And even when things go wrong, those moments become the stories we’ll never forget.

Would I do it all over again? Absolutely.