Coffin Mountain

The second installment of the Short 'n' Sweet Old Cascades Tour 2016 was on Coffin Mountain. Allegedly, if you look at Coffin Mountain from the Detroit Lake area, the peak's outline resembles a coffin. From the Coffin Mountain Lookout Trail, not so much: it more resembles a mountain with a steep trail on it. Sorry, my ability to cobble together a poetic simile escapes me as I trudge uphill through the beargrass under a bright sun. I thought Coffin Mountain might have got its name from a tired hiker who complained, "I'm so dad-gummed tired one more step's gwine to put me into the coffin" Or maybe it was the observation by the same generic tired hiker "This trail's so steep, dangburn it, that it's set me right to coffin'..." And the day I start talking like that will be a day I spent too much time in the sun.  

My view, while eating breakfast

Anyway, the day before, after hiking to the top of Middle Pyramid, I spent the night camped at the Pyramids Trail Trailhead. Bright and early the following morn, I took down my tent and made the short drive over to the Coffin Mountain Trailhead. As I was boiling breakfast on the hood of my car, another auto arrived at the small parking lot. It was new hiking buddy Linda who warned me I would probably pass her on the way up because she takes lots of pictures for her blog (called Linda's Lens, by the way). Boy, could I ever relate and since I too take lots of pictures for my blog, it was doubtful whether I would ever catch up to her. As it turned out, we hiked pretty much at the same slow speed, snapping photos all the while and it was nice to have a very kindred spirit for company on this spectacular hike. 

We're dying, here!

The hike to the Coffin Mountain summit is fairly short, the trail gets there in 1.5 miles while gaining nearly 1,000 feet. Not as rigorous as the Pyramids Trail but tell that to my leg muscles which immediately complained about the brisk climb at the hike's outset. They said something like "Two days in a row? We're dying here..." which is perhaps how Coffin Mountain got its name. Or, perhaps not.

Flowery trail on the climb up

There was very little forest on the east-facing slopes and the trail ambled through some rather lush vegetation. So many flowers to take pictures of, and I was quickly distracted from burning leg muscles by thimbleberry, lupine, columbine, ocean spray, and subalpine Mariposa lily. Since there was very little forest to block the view, I also got to enjoy views of the Three Sisters, Mount Washington, and Three-Fingered Jack.

Beargrass on the hillside

Unfortunately, the view also included a pointy pinnacle that that at the time, I misidentified as the Coffin Mountain summit. Darn false summits do it to me every time. The true summit was still way up there above and beyond the false summit and some anticipatory complaining from quad muscles ensued.  I should learn not to look ahead, it's demoralizing. By now, the massive slopes were all covered with beargrass and even though it was the tail end of the beargrass bloom, the flower show was still pretty spectacular.

Mount Jefferson 

Speaking of spectacular, Mount Jefferson (Oregon's second tallest peak) loomed straight ahead and the trail offered varying views of the snowy mountain rising above all the other nearby peaks under a blue sky. Initially, the mountain was wrapped in a thin cloud shroud that dissipated as the day wore on. To the northwest, Detroit Lake glinted blue at the bottom of a valley while rows of lesser mountains marched all the way to the ocean. 

Trail at the edge of the world

The trail switchbacked to and fro, exchanging alternating views of Mount Jefferson and the Three Pyramids. But no matter which set of mountains were in front, there was always beargrass under a deep blue sky. The sun was out yet the temperatures were as mild as the salsa that Dollie eats. The cool thing about the beargrass was that the higher we hiked, the fresher the blooms in a perfect simile of how my leg muscles felt, now that they were warmed up.

Living room with a view

Eventually, the trail topped out at a wooded saddle with a view of the summit with its boxy lookout affixed to the top like a fez on an organ grinder's monkey. After a short walk from the saddle, I found myself standing atop the summit and oh my, what a view! Mount Jefferson, dominated in terms of proximity and size; the poor lookout ranger, having to live up here with nothing to see! But there was also the chain of Cascades peaks to gawk at, stretching from Diamond Peak all the way to Mount Hood, or "most of Oregon" as we like to call it.

Wave bye-bye to the nice mountain!

Such a view requires a lengthy and contemplative view-soak and the handful of hikers on the summit happily obliged. But all good things come to an end and eventually it was time to head down the mountain. Now, this hike had been rather short, being only a 3 mile round trip. Certainly, a drive up the road for a second hike on Bachelor Mountain was in order. However, after cooking breakfast, brushing my teeth, and washing the prior day's trail dust off my incredibly handsome face, I was just about out of water. That made my decision simple, it was time to head back to Roseburg and lay this weekend to rest in the coffin, so to speak.

Thimbleberry leaf

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

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Pyramids Trail

In my neverending quest to hike every trail in Oregon, I recently visited the Old Cascade Crest Trail Area west of Mount Jefferson where "short and sweet" would be the theme for the weekend. Or to quote the venerable bard William Shakespeare: "Though she be but little, she be fierce!" Or, in modern English: "We may be small, but we are mighty!" I'm not sure who authored that last quote but I'm guessing Mighty Mouse. At any rate, the Pyramids Trail weighed in at a paltry 4.9 miles but the fierceness came in the form of nearly 2,000 feet of elevation gain in just over two miles. Plus, the whole venture was capped off by a hands-on rock climb to the actual summit of Middle Pyramid.

Mount Washington and the Three Sisters,
seen from Middle Pyramid

The long drive to the Three Pyramids from Roseburg made it early afternoon when I finally set foot on the Pyramids Trail. Immediately after leaving the trailhead parking lot, the path crossed a pretty little fork of Park Creek and entered a forest. Standing in the shade I warily waited for the mosquitoes to attack, bottle of Deet at the ready. The funny thing though, is this wound up being a mosquito-free hike and while that was odd and abnormal (just like me!), that's OK because the mosquitoes are indeed small but fierce in early to mid-summer.

Simply a beautiful trail

Anyway, after crossing the unnamed fork of North Fork Park Creek trickling gently across the trail, the trail began heading uphill through a deeply shaded forest. Still no mosquitoes, even after 10 yards of hiking! The next 3/4 miles of hiking was spent trudging uphill through the lush and densely vegetated forest while anticipating the coming mosquito attack, which thankfully never did materialize.

Queen's cup

White was the floral color of choice what with Queen's cup, Columbia windflower, and bunchberry blooming in pale profusion just an inch or two off the ground. The trail was well-maintained and that was a good thing because the impenetrably thick patches of devil's clubs flanking the path had been trimmed back. For those readers not familiar with devil's club, if it was not growing over the trail then that meant I enjoyed a scratch-free hike. I didn't realize it grew this far south, having only ever seen it growing north of the Columbia Gorge.

Entering the cirque below South Pyramid

It was rather jarring to suddenly leave the dark forest and enter a bright sunny meadow in a cirque basin tucked between South and Middle Pyramid. Looming above the large meadow was South Pyramid while Middle Pyramid (my destination) was hidden above the cirque walls. Sun-loving wildflowers such as monkeyflower, lupine, Indian paintbrush, larkspur, and columbine supplanted the shade-loving white-flowered plants cited in the preceding paragraph. The rocky slopes above the trail were brightly painted with all colors of the floral spectrum.

Mitrewort

From the cirque, the trail began climbing in earnest, the grade eased (eased, but not easy) somewhat by sixteen switchbacks. I know there were sixteen because I counted, which is something you do when you hike alone and write your blog in your head while you hike. As the trail sashayed to and fro up the hillside, the forest alternated between sunny slopes flanked by vine maples; and cool, dark, shady forest with ferns growing under the firs. They say variety is the spice of life and if true, then this was like the kung pao chicken of hiking trails.

Mount Jefferson

At about the fourteenth switchback, I decided I was getting quite bored with legs constantly burning from the sweet fire that can only be obtained by walking uphill. But not to worry, a rocky and relatively level saddle was reached after two more switchbacks. Partial views of the Three Sisters, Mount Washington, Three-Fingered Jack, Mount Hood, and Mount Adams (located in southern Washington) were all sort of visible through breaks in the tree cover. Unfortunately, totally unobscured Middle Pyramid's summit still loomed way high above and I almost would have preferred that particular view to have remained hidden behind the trees.

Here, vanilla leaf rules!

Even though Middle Pyramid was quite close, there still was some hiking to be done as the trail contoured nearly all the way around the mountain before petering out just below the summit. On the way up and around, a massive cliff wall loomed over the trail, the ample shade supporting verdant patches of false Solomon's seal, Sitka valerian, and vanilla leaf. The last 100 yards or so of trail was a brisk uphill walk through a shaded forest before the path unceremoniously ended on a narrow ridge sited at the base of a rocky spire.

Time for Richard to go rock climbing

The actual summit was about 40 feet above me on a cliffy rockpile so I dropped my pack and hiking poles and hauled myself up like some clumsy, yet incredibly handsome spider monkey. The camera came along with me because some things just don't get left behind. And predictably, the views from my small summit perch were utterly fantastic and expansive.

Neighboring South Pyramid

As stated, views were had of all the mountain peaks previously mentioned but now without the forest blocking the view. All Three Pyramids were visible with North and South Pyramid providing Middle Pyramid a geologic escort for all of eternity. Middle Pyramid is actually a pair of peaks and fortunately I was on the taller peak, meaning I didn't have to bushwhack to the other peak to compulsively attain Middle Pyramid's highest point. To the west, the Santiam Foothills gently rolled all the way to Oregon's Coast Range with Mary's Peak faintly visible on the horizon. Much photography and eating of oranges ensued from the crow's nest seat atop Middle Pyramid.

Danger lurking in a monkeyflower

On the return, all that steep uphill became steep downhill and a different set of leg muscles were set on fire due to the brisk descent. After the hike was finished off, camp was set up in the trailhead parking lot, and I still fully expected the mosquitoes to come devour me. Finally, at dinner time, several did come by to visit. They were summarily executed because although they are small, I am mightier and fiercer.

Cinquefoil seed, waiting to be a burr in your sock

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

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