Jacksonville Forest Park 2/19/2022

Take a bowl of spaghetti soaked in red marinara sauce, flip it upside down on a white tablecloth, and voila, you'll have your very own rendition of a Jacksonville Forest Park trail map. And do make sure to clean up the mess before the wife gets home! Messy culinary metaphor aside, the point I'm trying to make is that trails proliferate everywhere in the esteemed woodland park, filling the map with squiggles that resemble a ball of wriggling baby snakes (or bowl of spaghetti) more than a network of well-used footpaths. There are so many paths, routes, and junctions that the very idea of leading a hiking group there would (and should) fill one with trepidation. Appropriately enough, Lane (the designated hike leader for this Friends of the Umpqua outing) was justifiably trepidated. 

A flock of Eagles and Monkeys gather in the forest

Glenn and I had hiked this route just a couple of weekends prior to the official Friends of the Umpqua hike, so I'm not going to rehash the hiking thereof since the club hike was the same route described in my prior blog entry. However, the complexity of the hike presented a degree of difficulty not normally encountered because on our chosen route there were at least 38 trail intersections presenting 38 opportunities to peel inattentive hikers away from the group. Unique challenges require unique solutions, so we'll talk about those instead.

Chuck leads the Turtle charge, such as it is

Because Lane, Glenn, and yours truly were familiar with the route, the 17-member group was partitioned into three teams, based on hiking speed. In order of anticipated rapidity (or lack thereof) the teams were named after animals: Eagle, Monkey, and Turtle; and stickers were handed out to all hikers like so many kindergartners on a field trip. And guess who was in charge of Team Turtle? In response to the cruel japery directed my way by those who felt superior to our slow but mighty team because they could walk faster, I could only remind them that it was a turtle that had won the race against the hare.

A rolling stone gathers no moss, but
standing trees on the other hand, do

Two-way radios were distributed to two leaders in each team (except for the Turtles) and all leaders were assigned code names: Eagle Beak, Eagle Claw, Monkey See, Monkey Do, and Turtle Head.  Additionally, each team leader was given a list of check-in and regroup points and I must say, the whole system worked quite well other than the many turtle insults broadcast over the public radiosphere. I chose not to respond in kind and just retreated into my shell.  

Jacksonville Creek had some water in it

Because I had been here just a couple of weeks prior, I noticed Jackson Creek was carrying a bit more water this time out, thanks to some intervening rain. As always, I had my trusty camera with me but really, I didn't take a lot of pictures, preferring instead to concentrate on my duties as chief turtle herder and overall hike sweep.

An oak, uncertain about which direction to grow

As the hike wore on and the trail trended towards the uphill, some hikers dropped into the next slower group down and accordingly, I soon acquired more turtles in our bale and yes, a group of turtles is really called a bale. At any rate, I preferred to think of the neo-Turtles that were former Monkeys as Turkeys.

Manzanita was in bloom on Upper Twin Peak summit

One of our regroup points was atop Upper Twin Peak where we fed the animals, so to speak. We ate lunch on the wooded summit while soaking in the view of Mt. McLaughlin and Bear Creek Valley, enjoying the hiking camaraderie, and denigrating all things turtle. With so many hikers all chatting and chomping atop the summit, it was quite the zoo. The main thing for the three team leaders was that all hikers were present and accounted for. So far, so good.  

Lichen clings to life on a tree trunk

The good news from a hiking standpoint was that after the summit of Upper Twin Peak, the route was all downhill, causing some of the Turkeys to self-promote back up to Monkey rank. As an aside, the Monkeys were indeed pretty rank all right, but that's another story.

A maple leaf, about to get devoured by moss

It was a pretty satisfied and happy group that last gathered at the trailhead for a final head count when the hike was over. In speaking to some of the participants post-hike, the consensus seemed that as the hike started, there was much grumbling and talk of mutiny because of the stultifying team hiking rules and regulations. However, after the first several dozen trail intersections or so within the first set of miles, everybody saw the need for being organized and all would-be rebellious types soon became happily compliant. Should have named that group Team Sheep.

I wear my badges with honor

My only complaint about the whole outing is that apparently, my new trail name is now Turtle Head. Not sure I particularly like that, I'd gladly shed my turtle shell, but then I'd either be homeless or naked and not really sure which.

Quite the menagerie

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

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Jacksonville Forest Park

So I sort of volunteered Lane to lead a hike in Jacksonville Forest Park. Of course, the one drawback to my diabolical plan was that Lane had never been to the park and I'd been only once. Clearly a scouting trip was in order so Glenn, who is quite familiar with the park's network of trails, was enlisted to show us the way. But Lane called in sick, so it wound up just being me and Glenn, and we all see what Lane did there.

The Rail Trail ambled through the pleasant woods

Starting from the trailhead below smallish Jacksonville Reservoir, our route crossed the dam on a footbridge and set out on the Rail Trail. In short order, we arrived at the ruins of an actual railway trestle. Here, the bridge abruptly ended in mid-air and lest I be tempted to come up with a bunch of jokes about this, a plaque somberly reminded us that in 1917, one Denver Marsh perished in a train accident here. 

Jackson Creek needs more water

The Norling Trail ran next to Jackson Creek and to see the creek in its full glory, you need to be here right after a rainstorm (or during, maybe). On this day, the creek was barely trickling but the sound of water burbling through the trees was reward enough. At Confluence Bridge, where creeks Cantrell and Jackson meet, trails scatter in different directions like so many dandelion seeds floating in a breeze. Here, hikers have to decide in which direction they are going. For us, it would be a continuation on the Norling Trail up Jackson Creek. Norling is a popular name in the park as there is a road, creek, mine, and trail that all carry the name, the oddity being that the Norling Trail does not go to any of the other Norling-named features.

Norling Creek cuts a swath through leafy duff

There were no falls on the Canyon Falls Trail either, although there was a bench that was labeled "Canyon Falls" that offered a look at lethargic Norling Creek desperately trying to make it as far as Jackson Creek before running dry. The hike was a steady uphill endeavor but never overly so, and offered a pleasant walk through woodlands carpeted with a thick layer of decomposing maple leaves. 

Watch your step, the trail is icy!

Small isolated snow patches flanked the trail, which was heavily frosted in places. Virtually all of this hike took place on the shady side of Jackson Creek's frigid canyon and even though the day was sunny, extra clothing layers were an all-day requirement, thanks to the chilly air and general all-around lack of sunlight on our route.

The entrance to Norling Mine was barred shut

This park's history is heavily interwoven with historical mining activity around the rustic town of Jacksonville. Accordingly, our route sideswiped several mines, the first of which was Norling Mine. The mine entrance was just a small hole on a wooded slope, the entrance barred shut to prevent silly people from crawling into the mine and never being heard from again, or maybe to keep pallid cave deer from slithering out.

View of Mt. McLaughlin and Bear Creek Valley

The Atsahu Trail was on an old roadbed that angled upwards through woods increasingly trending to madrone before cresting at an open saddle. At the saddle, we made a hard right turn and Glenn gaily skipped up the path to Upper Twin Peak while I trudged step by painful step, darn younger people anyway. Our reward for all the toil and trouble was a rest on a strategically sited bench with an awesome view of Bear Creek Valley, Mount McLaughlin, and Grizzly Peak, all covered with white snow under a vibrantly blue sky.

No Richard, the hike was named after ME!

It was all downhill from here, thankfully and we switchbacked down the Owl Hoot Trail, passing El Patron (a huge madrone tree) along the way. Hoot man, the downhill was certainly a lot more fun than the slog up Upper Twin Peak! The Owl Hoot met up with the Boulder Trail which in turn led to the Handsome Mine entrance, triggering a lively discussion between Glenn and I over which one of us the mine was named after. This mine was also doored shut, although a tap on a window pane turned on lights inside of the mine, illuminating railway tracks disappearing into the inky black bowels of the very earth itself.

Narrow trail in the deep and cold shade

The Ol' Miner's Trail could have triggered another lively argument between Glenn and I but neither one of us had any real interest in claiming the moniker of Ol' Miner. If it were Handsome Ol' Miner, then maybe. At any rate, after wandering past an old hydraulic mine site littered with rusting mining equipment, the trail spit us out onto Jacksonville Reservoir Road near the trailhead parking lot and just like that, the hike was over. Many thanks to Glenn for helping us out with planning our upcoming hike.

Map of our route

So, I ran into Lane a couple days later and let me tell you, he did not look sick at all. Far be it from me to say he pulled a fast one, but his recovery was a medical miracle on the face of it. However, since I am now the only one with knowledge of the route, I'll probably get stuck leading the hike for him but then again, I could call in sick!

Even the trails have trails

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

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Jacksonville Forest Park

How did Jacksonville Forest Park ever escape my attention? Why have I never hiked here? The short answer is that I'd never heard of the place. I had heard of the nearby Jacksonville Woodlands trail system which is basically just across Highway 238 from Forest Park but I had never been on those trails either, my preconceived notion being that the Woodlands trails generally lack adequate mileage. But Forest Park has many trails and so many possible routes that are most hike-worthy in terms of both mileage and scenery. Actually, I have no idea if the trails are scenic or not as I have never been on them but based on my first time out, they probably are.

A tree gets a mossy hug

This was not going to be a long hike, thank my hernia very much! I did put together a route involving the Ol' Miner's, Owl Hoot, Atsahu, Arrowhead Pass, Shade Creek, Canyon Falls, Norling, and Rail Trails. It did not escape my attention there is also a Legburner Trail in the park which could be either good or bad, depending on the mood or inclination of a certain hernia. Anyway, like a couple of urban(ish) trail systems I've been on lately, like Cathedral Hills, a good map is essential to make sense of the numerous trail junctions encountered on most any hike in the park. There also are plenty of trail signs to orient hikers unfamiliar with Forest Park who, despite having a map and decades of experience, still managed to get a little misplaced while hiking here. 

Some of that local attraction on the Ol' Miners' Trail

After a short climb through a thick forest of young madrone, the Ol' Miners' Trail entered a hydraulic mining site, which consisted of a grassy area littered with rusting mining machinery. From there, the route continued uphill to a gold mining site that was off limits with an official detour around the site. The trail was probably closed here because quite obviously, a large number of trees had fallen on the trail. It was probably easier to create a detour than remove them all, or maybe there is some other compelling reason for the reroute. However, following the detour is where and how I got myself "misplaced", despite having a good map on hand.

It was this sign's fault!

My plan was to take the Owl Hoot Trail which would be intersecting my current trail from the left. So, when I ran into an unsigned but very clear trail that surely must be Owl Hoot Trail, a left turn was duly executed. Wow, this trail did not even pretend to be nice, heading straight up an exceedingly steep ridge crest forested with hardwood trees of various ilk, some of which were sprawled in fallen profusion across the trail. To make things worse, after nearly a mile of this, the path just ended. Just like that, with no fanfare or any other proclamation of Customer Appreciation Day. After some irritated "Hoot, mon!" utterances (or some salty variations thereof), there was nothing to do but return back to the junction that had originally led me astray.

Tall madrone trees surrounded the trail

Back on the Boulder Trail, in short succession I ran into the resumption of the Ol' Miner's Trail and the real Owl Hoot trail angling to the left. My legs and hernia had given their all on the Buzzard Fart Trail (my name for that Owl Hoot Trail imposter) and they now couldn't give two hoots about the Owl Hoot Trail. So, stay on the Boulder Trail it was, and that was fine for it was a nice and mostly level walk through woods of moss-covered trees interspersed with smooth-trunked madrones.

One of many small cascades on Jackson Creek

The sound of Jackson Creek trickling through the woods became more pervasive near a nexus of several trails intersecting near the rushing stream. After briefly exploring Norling Gulch, I beat a retreat back down to Jackson Creek and began the next phase of this little woodland sortie. The pleasant Canyon Falls Trail followed the creek on down the canyon. The vibe was somewhat canyonish and there were a number of noisy cascades that bordered on waterfall status. I'm not sure if any singular one of these falls were the famed and elusive Canyon Falls or whether the entire collection is referred to as Canyon Falls, but the walk along the bounding creek was my favorite part of the whole hike.

Bridge to nowhere

The loop hike was wrapped up by way of the Rail Trail, which sports an actual railway trestle that abruptly ends halfway across a ravine. Didn't see any pile of rusting train carcasses laying at the bottom of the ravine from which I deduced the missing trestle half probably disappeared long after mining trains last ran here. The hikers' footbridge crossing semi-stagnant Jacksonville Reservoir's outlet and dam looked very much like a trestle but at least it went all the way across, unlike its railroad bridge cousin.

This way to Rattlesnake Gulch

My hiking buddies Glenn and Carol had both given me sagacious advice not to hike up Rattlesnake Gulch, despite that alluring and enticing name. Seems like it's like a Richard Hike with none of the benefits. Well, with an endorsement like that, don't you know I just wanted to hike up Rattlesnake Gulch? Especially since the trail leaving the junction with the Rail Trail didn't look all that tough as it inclined up into the oak-dotted gulch. But for today, I listened to Glenn, Carol, and my hernia and decided to save that one for later, for I will be back to this charming little park.

Mossy tree trunks were a thing on the Canyon Falls Trail

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

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