Showing posts with label crooked river. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crooked river. Show all posts

Monday, June 1, 2020

Chimney Rock

Short and sweet! That just about sums up this hike to a rocky landmark overlooking the Crooked River in central Oregon. Yup, you read that right, I went to the foreign lands of central Oregon for a three-day sojourn away from my beloved west-side Cascades. After the nearly five-hour drive to get there, it wasn't like a ten mile, three thousand foot climb was going to be in the works anyway.

The weathered texture of a juniper trunk
After leaving the town of Prineville, the drive up the Crooked River was half the fun. The Crooked River was just that, snaking two and fro in a wide canyon with green pastures and farms populating the canyon floor. But then the wide canyon narrowed considerably by the time the road reached the official boundary of the Crooked Wild and Scenic River. Me, I would have called it the Wild and Scenic Crooked River because that sounds a little more grammatically correct but I don't make the BLM signs. At any rate, the canyon was fairly narrow with imposing walls of rimrock surrounding the snaking river constrained within the defile.

Up the draw we go!
Naturally, it stood to reason that any trail leaving the river and getting to the top of the rim would be steep and taxing and the Chimney Rock Trail did not disappoint in that regard. Beginning under an imposing wall of basalt rock formations, the path immediately started switchbacking across a slope of mostly dry grass dotted with juniper trees, with nary a fern to be seen. 

Spreading fleabane of some sort
Despite the aridity of this desert-like environment, wildflowers were blooming and bees were buzzing from flower to flower. A few flowering species were recognizable and familiar, like common yarrow and golden yarrow. However, from my perspective most plant specimens were alien and strange, sending me delving into the guidebooks to see if I could discern what the heck I was looking at. 

For three centuries, the walls of the castle
repelled invading armies from the west
The rimrock surrounding the Crooked River is sheer, resembling a Spanish castle perched atop a Pyrenean alp. The walls of the redoubt were seemingly unassailable but the weakness in the formidable wall of rock was an arid draw that the path worked its way up. It was either that or start building a giant Trojan Deer. Water probably flows here during rainstorms for the floor of the draw was grassy, sometimes shady, and relatively moist when compared to the dry slopes above the trail. 

This waterfall would be a lot cooler with some water
Eventually the draw petered out and at a saddle, the trail rounded the top of the draw, crossing the dry creek that had created the arroyo I'd been hiking up. Clearly, at times there is or was an impressive waterfall here, which would be even more impressive if there was any actual water spilling over the tall ledge. I should come back during a typhoon or tropical storm for the full waterfall experience here.

Some of that Crooked River scenery
A few more switchbacks and woo-hoo, the trail leveled out on a broad plateau covered in sagebrush and juniper trees. In the direction of the Crooked River, currently hidden way down in its gorge, was the chimney-like tower of Chimney Rock itself. A few primitive benches conveniently sited at the edge of the plateau provided a place for contemplating the awesome views of the Crooked Wild and Scenic River, accent on the "Scenic".

Quite the view from Chimney Rock
The drop-off from the plateau was abrupt and sheer, with the river zigging and zagging about six hundred feet directly below my totally impressed hiking boots. Carved out of the surrounding basalt, the opposite rim of the gorge loomed less than a half-mile away as the crow flies, although there was a lot of air and one river between rims. Because the river snaked to and fro so emphatically, the visual effect was that of layers and layers of canyons stretching out to the horizon. It was a huge payoff for what was a less than three mile hike and I just sat for a while in Chimney Rock's figurative hearth, just taking it all in.

Chimney Rock, raison d'ĂȘtre for this hike
All good things come to an end, though, and I had to find a place to sleep and do all that housekeeping stuff. Sad but true, it was time to head back down the trail, but not before taking a short detour along the plateau rim before rejoining the dusty path heading back down to the river.  Although the hike was short, Chimney Rock was a good introduction to the splendors of this area.

If you like basalt, then you will love this hike!
For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.


Saturday, March 19, 2016

Smith Rock State Park - Misery Ridge Loop

The names say it all: Voyage of the Cow Dog, Cocaine Gully, Time to Shower, Phone Call from Satan, Scrotal Avenger, Disposable Heros, Vomit Launch, and my favorite: Bubbas in Bondage. What are these, you ask? Punk rock bands? Mixed drinks? Canceled TV shows? Amusement park rides? Nicknames of ex-girlfirends? The answer is none of the above, dearies. These are simply a colorful smattering of climbing route names at Smith Rock State Park.

Ant on a wall
Now, contrast the climbing flair with the staid and steadfast names of the hiking trails in Smith Rock State Park (Chute, Homestead, Summit, Canyon): boring, boring, boring. One can only conclude that hikers are a much more sensible and safe group than climbers. Of course, we we do sport the Rope-de-Dope Trail and Misery Ridge Trail so maybe we hikers are only just marginally more sensible than climbers. At the base of each climbing route, there are first aid stations complete with splints, casts, and stretchers that speak volumes to me about the mental illness associated with climbing. And speaking of mental illness, today's subject is about the self-inflicted misery associated with doing the Misery Ridge loop at Smith Rock State Park.


Monkey Face
Monkey Face is an iconic rock pillar at Smith Rock, so I brought two monkey faces with me: grandsons Issiah and Daweson. We left Roseburg in the wee hours of a Saturday morning to make the long drive to Smith Rock. Well,  that's not entirely accurate as we actually left in the middle of the night which meant no repetitive " Are we there, yet?" or "How much further?" as the boys snored away the hours and miles on a dark highway. Arriving at the park in the early morning, we hoisted backpacks and walked about a quarter-mile into the bivouac camping area (there is no car camping at Smith Rock) and set up tents.

Daweson hikes next to the Crooked River
Once our camp set-up chores were done, we headed down the Rope-de-Dope Trail which had an awesome and iconic view of Smith Rock lording it over the wiggly course of the Crooked River. And across the river loomed walls of orange colored rock similar in tone and hue to the unnatural spray-on tan of a certain presidential candidate. The two lads were suitably awestruck as we navigated the switchbacks down to the river's edge on the Canyon Trail.






Rocky color palette
Smith Rock is an incredibly popular place and is quite busy on any given day due to its proximity to Bend. Already, hordes of climbers and hikers were out and about so we had plenty of company on our hike. Crossing the river on a stout wooden bridge, we hung a left and began a several-mile amble along the Crooked River along with half the population of Crook County.

Mental illness at work
The Crooked River is just that, from the air it looks like the squiggles of a spent rubber band. At ground level though, we were relatively unaware we were walking hither and yon, so to speak. Progress was slow as we continually gawked at the orange rock wall looming above, topped only by a deep blue sky. As we walked, a river otter swam across the river and several bald eagles were spotted fishing the green waters of the river. Climbers, looking like ants on a stucco wall, made painstaking progress up the sheer cliffs flanking the river.

A closer look at Monkey Face
Once we were a couple of miles out, Monkey Face came into view. The iconic rock is a tall pillar whose large knob on top has a couple of strategically placed caves that really do make it resemble a giant monkey face. Continuing the monkey metaphor, small  climber "fleas" crawled in Monkey Face's eyes and mouth. Fortunately for the "fleas", Monkey Face did not stick out his tongue.

View from the Mesa Verde Trail
The Mesa Verde Trail is a shortcut from the river trail to the Misery Ridge Trail and the steep climb around Monkey Face's back side was a harbinger of misery and woe to come. Climbing steadily and steeply, views improved to the point we could see a chain of Cascade Mountain peaks stretching from Diamond Peak to the south and Mount Hood to the north. Epic, plus the view did provide an excuse to stop and wait for the pain to subside.

"Let's go climbing!" he said
The Misery Ridge Trail zig-zagged up the steep wall and conversation pretty much stopped as we huffed and puffed and tried to cajole our burning leg muscles to execute one more step. Almost at the top, we stared Monkey Face in the eye as we had arrived at face level. Just 30 yards of air separated us from Monkey Face and we observed some rappelling groups blithely dangling in empty space.  Issiah was quite entranced by the climbers and he asked "Grandpa, can you take me rock climbing?" Sure, Issiah, as soon as my hair grows back, I'll take you climbing!

View from the crest of Misery Ridge
By now, we were cresting Misery Ridge and we were treated to a view for the ages. We were on the knife-edge crest and could observe the Crooked River on both sides of the rocky ridge. The trail, comprised of endless switchbacks and steep stairs, dropped away at our feet. Views of the Cascades and nearby Gray Butte were simply astounding.





Rickety trail 
A steady procession of hikers were coming up the stairways and were silent except for the heavy gasping. We could relate because that was us before we had started to head downhill. At any rate, after carefully picking our way down the rickety trail, we arrived at the river. From there it was a short walk along the canyon rim back to our campsite.








The Crooked River
The boys played at a climbing wall, perhaps inspired by all the climbers they'd seen on this hike. The next morning, we hurriedly struck camp before a rather vigorous rainstorm began dumping water on our heads. A good time was had by all us monkey faces despite, or maybe because of, the misery on Misery Ridge.









My people
For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.