Gwynn Creek Loop

Rain Rain Rain
Come once again
Give us the chance
To sing and dance

From "Rain O Beautiful Rain"
by Partha Mahanta

Hiking in the rain-o-beautiful-rain

Let be known that on a recent hike at Cape Perpetua for Dollie and I, there was no singing or dancing involved. There was lots of rain-o-beautiful-rain though and I walked in a vortex of coldness that had little to do with the actual temperature involved. For some reason the vortex seemed to be centered on the red-jacketed hiker I was following (from a safe distance behind).

All hikes should start like this

I had promised a moderate hike of about 6 miles and I did stay true to my word but there were other travails involved besides the mileage. At first it seemed like there would be no tests of manhood, womanhood, or marital harmony as the hike got off to an auspicious start at the Cape Perpetua Visitor Center with golden sunlight slanting through a steaming forest. After five minutes on the trail, the sun disappeared and 37 seconds after that, the rain started. Slugs were out and about on the trail in slimy ebullience, singing and dancing in the rain-o-beautiful-rain. 

The forest is full of green things

However, it was a light rain as the trail left the Cape Creek drainage, climbing up and over forested Cook's Ridge before dropping down into the Gwynn Creek canyon. Up was the key word here as the trail switchbacked to and fro, climbing a robust 1,000 feet in two miles through a dense forest of young trees.

Snarling wife

I was feeling pretty walky and actually was enjoying the exertion, a feeling that was not felt by all in our hiking party. I mentioned I was feeling pretty good and Dollie said "That's nice", only it was the "that's nice" that meant it really wasn't nice at all. My suspicion was confirmed when a trail runner came jogging down the trail with her dog. She was comparatively scantily clad, being oufitted in mere running shorts and a T-shirt. A broad smile indicated she was totally into the joy of running in the rain. We exchanged pleasantries in passing and once the young lady ran out of earshot, Dollie said "I hate her", upper lip curling in a feral snarl.

So happy for the chance to sing and dance

As we continued gaining elevation, we entered the low cloud cover cloaking Cape Perpetua and fingers of mist soon clasped trees, ferns, and hikers in a cold and wet hug. Then the real rain started. The forest was soon filled with the three-dimensional aural hiss of millions of rain drops simultaneously striking both leaves and raincoats. Fern fronds were bouncing up and down with the music and rhythms of the raindrops, happy for the chance to sing and dance in the rain-o-beautiful-rain.   

They make such a cute couple

All the bad uphill stopped at the junction with the Gwynn Creek Trail, and we commenced descending on the damp and muddy path. The very moment we started losing elevation the rain abated, seemingly in reward for our conquering the steep ridge. Green was the theme here with ferns, salal, and moss all being major contributors.

Get your red hot fungus here!

The November rains had set the mushrooms to sprouting and I spent a lot of muddy trail time lying on the ground taking pictures while Dollie scouted ahead for the next photo shoot subject. There were some coral fungus/staghorn fungus thingies ("thingy" being my technical word for "I don't know what this is") that got my attention. Usually, coral fungus is an ordinary looking tan color but there were specimens colored salmon, bright yellow, and nuclear meltdown red.

Forest still life

As we got closer to the bottom of the canyon, sunlight broke out and the forest soon became steamy with evaporating moisture. It could almost have been the tropics, except for the 48 degree temperature and all those spruce and fir trees. Gwynn Creek was nearby and although the creek's watery song could always be heard from the dense forest below the trail, we rarely caught a glimpse of the small creek. We encountered lots of casual hikers in a sign we were nearing the Oregon Coast Trail and a nearby car-friendly trailhead.

If I don't go in, the deer can't eat me

At the intersection with the OCT, we made a right turn and finished off the last mile of the hike. The trail went up and down around the toe of Cook's Ridge which had been our considerably more formidable nemesis further inland. By now the storm had broken up and we enjoyed nice views of the always spectacular rocky coast at Cape Perpetua.

Green

A stop at the always tasty Los Amigos Burrito in Florence capped off a nice day and we decided we did enjoy our chance to sing and dance in the not-quite-so-beautiful rain.

Waxing lyrical as I savored tongue tacos while pondering the day's events, I even composed a poem in honor of our experience:

"Rain, rain, rain 

Come once again

Give us the chance

To wet our pants"

by Richard O'Neill

A sudden updraft blew his skirt up

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

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Cummins Creek loop

After a cold and drizzly night, Sunday dawned gloriously sunny at Florence. However, the summery day was pretty in appearance only as it was icy cold at the core of things. Hmm, that could describe my ex-wife too, now that I think about it. But I digress, suffice to say this was a day that  looked like spring but felt like winter on the Cummins Creek Trail at the foot of Oregon's scenic Cape Perpetua. 

Sunny and cold on the Cummins Creek Trail

The frozen trail crunched noisily underneath my boots at an early morning start. Beginning the loop on the Cummins Creek Trail, the morning sun slanted through a dense canopy of conifer and maple, the sun beams illuminating vapor rising from evaporating frost. The trail, at this point, is an old road bed and emerald green moss lined the gravelly trail tread. I soon lost sensation in my ears, nose, hands and various other exposed appendages due to the winter chill. 

Water drop, refracting sunlight

The trail climbed steadily for 3 miles or so and my camera was clicking merrily away, taking pictures of spring buds, ferns, mossy trails, sunbeams, and yellow-green slugs. Cummins Creek was heard but never seen as it tumbled through its wooded canyon well below the trail. Life was good, indeed, for the first three miles.

Time to work out the uphill muscles

At an intersection with an old logging road, a bona fide foot path angled up to the left, commencing the "Richard Hike" portion of this little trek. Climbing 800 feet in just under a mile, the trail was steep as it ascended what would normally be considered a beautiful hike through mossy white-barked alder trees. Burning quad muscles do have a tendency to take some luster off of the coastal forest scenery.

Warm view to the ocean

The climb took me out of the Cummins Creek drainage and crossed over to the headwater ridge crest overlooking Gwynn Creek. A short side-trip led to a grassy overlook of the Cummins Creek drainage culminating in the dark blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. There were no trees at the overlook and various clothing layers were soon strewn about the overlook as the sun warmed me up. This would be the only time I would be warm the entire day, excluding the drive home with the car heater cranked up.

Reach for the sky!

As I stated, the trail was traversing the headwaters of Gwynn Creek; once that little task was completed, the trail headed west, descending to the Cape Perpetua Visitor Center via the rounded and forested Cook's Ridge. The ridge is not named for any culinary incident or kitchen dignitary but instead is named for Captain James Cook who first laid eyes on the cape on Saint Perpetua's Day. Good thing he saw the cape on March 7th, otherwise the cape would have been named after a different saint. Cape Chad just does not have the same poetic ear-pleasing ring that Cape Perpetua  does.

Salal gone splotchy, just like me

The next 4 miles were a steady descent through one of the prettier coastal forests in Oregon. The trail wound its way through a second-growth forest (much of the original forest was destroyed in 1962's famed Columbus Day windstorm). Underneath the trees a vigorous undergrowth of ferns, rhododendron, and salal swiped at passing hiker's legs before the path unceremoniously spit hikers onto the visitor center parking lot.

Cape Perpetua, or maybe Cape Chad?

At this point, the rock wall of Cape Perpetua loomed invitingly above the parking lot. The views from atop the cape are arguably the best on the Oregon coast so I asked my legs if they were willing to do the climb to the cape summit. My legs said "No!" rather emphatically. So, for a little extra mileage and scenery, I took the flat paved trail to Cook's Chasm.

A watery belch by Thor's Well

Just a little creek, but my oh my, what a chasm it has carved into the rocky shore. Providing an assist with the rock carving, the Pacific Ocean churns up the narrow defile and a noisy spouting horn spouts salty spray, keeping time with the wave rhythms. Waves broke in spectacular fashion over the rocks, heralding the approaching high tide. Blowholes spouted right and left throughout the black and rocky shoreline. Iconic Thor's Well was performing for visitors, alternately spewing a watery fountain and swallowing the water back up, just like a sick and thirsty hiker.

Gwynn Creek

A short two miles wrapped up this 10.9 mile hike, as the Oregon Coast Trail went up and over the ridge between Gwynn and Cummins Creek. It was a joyous reunion between hiker and car heater, with the heater blowing out blessed warmth at full blast. Another joyous reunion between hiker and hot chocolate followed in Florence. Did I mention it was cold?

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