Heceta Head

"Thanks, Rheo!" is the theme of this soggy and cold blog missive. The weather report had been rather dire with lots of water forecasted to fall from the sky and I had pretty much decided I was not going to go. But then Rheo called and asked me to take her place as hike leader, citing the very convenient excuse of having to recover from foot surgery. That's a pretty lame excuse if you ask me, foot surgery pun intended. At any rate, it was a sparsely attended hike with just 4 other intrepid hikers (and one dog) braving the elements, led by one hike leader muttering "Thanks, Rheo" every quarter-mile or so.

"View" from Heceta Head

When we left Roseburg, it was actually sunny and we were ever so naive and optimistic as we hopped in the cars and headed to the coast. By the time we hit Reedsport, it was obvious we had left the good weather behind. And by the time we hit Devil's Elbow State Park at Heceta Head, we all knew we were in for it, as a steady rain beat a staccato rhythm on the windshield. All dressed up and with somewhere to go, we set out on the trail with a "Thanks, Rheo!".

Heceta Head Lighthouse

A short uphill climb on a wide gravel path took us to Heceta Head Lighthouse and it was raining hard so we just sideswiped that particular attraction and ducked into the woods on Heceta Head. Anything to get out of the rain, even if it meant slogging up a steep and muddy trail. I had eaten a fast food breakfast and right about now, it sat in my stomach like a 16 pound bowling ball n the rack, and I was wondering if I was going to hork up breakfast before cresting Heceta Head. I'm glad to report that no breakfasts were horked on this hike.

A forest hobbits could love

Fortunately, the climb to the top of Heceta Head was finite and I was a happy hiker when I no longer had to haul my bloated bulk uphill. But be careful what you ask for Richard, for the trail off the head was steep, muddy, and slippery enough to qualify as treacherous in places. The wind blows pretty regularly here and the trees were phantasmagorically shaped by the wind, or maybe they were just born that way. At any rate, a brief opening in the forest provided a heavily clouded look to the beach  below where normally there would be an awe-inspiring view, as long as you didn't think too much about the 500 foot elevation gain hiking back from the beach.

"Thanks, Rheo!"

The trail leading down to the beach is whimsically called the Hobbit Trail but the hobbits were all in in hiding or hibernation from the constant rain. We weren't and for some reason, we saw no other hikers out this day, not sure why that was. Once on the beach, miles of wet sand stretched in front of us, the moisture glistening on a darkly gray day. 

Heceta Head, in the rain

About the only good thing about the weather was that the wind was at our backs, which made the rain just a smidge more tolerable. At this point, it was a given that we and our gear were quite wet and it just got to the point that you couldn't get any more wet that you already were. So, it was like "whatever" and somewhere on the beach I began to actually enjoy the hike. Or maybe "enjoy" isn't quite the correct word, "endure" might be closer to it, but I really and truly was beginning to enjoy the endurance of the hike, thereof. Or maybe it was just the early onset of rain-induced dementia setting in.

A bald eagle roosts in the inclement weather

Although we did not run into any other hikers, we did spot some wildlife, most notably that of a bald eagle sitting on a bare branch, totally unfazed by both the steady rain and our presence on his erstwhile lonely beach. He allowed us to not-so stealthily approach and take photos of his majestic birdness. I say he, but he could have also been a she too, I suppose.

Gnarled and twisted, like my feet

We exited the beach at Carl Washburne State Park and normally, this is where we eat lunch. But the idea of gathering around a picnic table out in the open, munching soggy sandwiches, didn't seem very appealing so we just continued on, hiking through woods comprised of trees gnarled and twisted by frequent sea breezes. 

China Creek, in the all-day rain

The hike back to Heceta Head was spent mostly in wet and dripping woods dark and lovely, on a trail that loosely followed Creeks China and Blowout. There was a small pond, formed by a beaver dam, but not all hikers saw it, choosing instead to focus on maintaining footing on a slick trail.

The sign of a good hike

By now, I had forgotten my peevishness at my friend Rheo but I was getting there again, slogging back up and over Heceta Head on a trail that had, if anything, gotten more muddy and slippery while we were hiking on the beach and back. Sure enough, on the way down, my left foot lost footing and I went on about a 10 yard slide on my back down the trail. "Thanks, Rheo!" and this time I meant it. After arriving home, I read an e-mail from another hiking group that had scratched their coast hike this weekend, because "no one would be crazy enough to hike in this weather". Heh, heh, that was not entirely true now, was it? Thanks, Rheo!

The baleful eye of Sauron gazes upon us

Because of the wet weather, I didn't take a lot of pictures but the few that I did take are in the Flickr album.

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Heceta Head

Wow!  In this case WOW could be an acronym for Wild Oregon Weather.  Or it could be an acronym for Where's Our Window (more on that, later). Suffice to say, the recent Friends of the Umpqua hike in the Heceta Head area had a whole lot of wow, but not for the usual reasons.

And this was the "good weather" part!

The weather forecast looked fairly dire with copious amounts of rain called for and depending on whose smart phone you consulted with, wind was also going to be a problem. The most dire warnings had wind gusts reaching up to 70 miles per hour in velocity. I have a dumb phone and it told me nothing about the weather. The consensus was to drive to Heceta Head and to assess the wind and make a game-time decision about the hiking route.

No lighthouse tours today

At the trailhead, the wind was brisk but not overly so and the verdict from all 6 hikers was "Let's go hiking!". Of course, it was raining, and the pitter-patter of raindrops on hat brims was a steady backdrop to the roar of the ocean as we headed up towards the famed Heceta Head lighthouse. Next to lighthouse is the keeper's home, now a bed-and-breakfast with probably the best view ever from a bed-and-breakfast. Normally, the lighthouse is teeming with visitors but for some reason we had the place to ourselves. That wouldn't have anything to do with the high winds warning, would it?

Steep!

And then the fun started as the trail switchbacked to and fro, climbing up and over Heceta Head. Steep was the watchword and we got our exercise in the dense forest on the headland. Once we made it over Heceta Head, we were sheltered somewhat from the wind as we dropped down a mossy forest to a very wet Highway 101.

The newts liked the weather

Crossing the highway where the car tires all hissed on the wet pavement, we grabbed the Valley Trail to Carl Washburne State Park. The next couple of miles were a soggy and relatively level ramble through mossy woods. Several creeks crossed the trail, each carrying more water than usual since it's been raining for about a solid week. We passed by a small pond, allegedly created by beavers. Newts were out in great numbers and the trail was crawling with the orange-bellied amphibians.

Open air dining at its finest

After we reached the campground at Carl Washburne State Park, we crossed over the highway and ate lunch at the day use area next to the beach. It was a quick and businesslike lunch as both the rain and wind picked up in intensity. After packing up our wet gear, we hit the beach and tried to walk straight into the winds blowing from the south. The sand in the wind actually stung when it hit exposed body parts like faces, and I could even feel it through my pants.

The proper technique for hiking in the wind

We didn't get very far before an emergency meeting of the Friends of the Umpqua was convened and 5 of us opted to return the way we came, John was the lone hiker opting for the beach route. I've done stupid hikes before but you just have to be in the mood and I was not in the mood to be sandblasted on this day. So, it was a workmanlike return through the woods in the rain where John rejoined us at the other end of the loop.

Oregonians have land gills

As we climbed over Heceta Head the rain was so thick I could hardly see for all the raindrops on my glasses. I had long given up on taking pictures. The trail was muddy and full of standing water and at one point my feet shot out from under me and now I was wet AND muddy. Whee.

Hairpin curve

On the ocean side of the head, the wind was shrieking like an army of banshees from the underworld. The trees were waving to and fro like grass blades and you just had to have faith that trees or tree parts would not fall on your head. I'm glad to report no heads were harmed in the hiking of this hike.

Even the bears stayed home

At the parking lot, sheets of rain were driven like the wind and it looked like a newscast of a major hurricane, all that was needed was a reporter staggering in the wind for the benefit of the camera. The water drops hit so hard they felt like cold needles on the face. One large gust of wind did stagger Bill and he nearly went down, he had to grab a post for support. Seconds later, the same thing also happened to me.

Wow!

The wind was so strong that it sucked the rear window off of Jennifer's van, scattering the glass diamond shards to wherever the wind took them to. In spring, the shards will sprout and grow new windows by the end of summer. The wind also toppled over trees on the highway and we had to turn around and backtrack 25 miles to Florence and return to Roseburg via Eugene in an overly ventilated van, seeing as it had no rear window. Wow, indeed.

May the eye of
Sauron be upon you

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

  

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