Tire Mountain

In spring, expansive green meadows and vibrant wildflowers draw throngs of admirers to the vibrant slopes of Tire Mountain. Simply stated, Tire Mountain is one of the best wildflower hikes in all of southern Oregon and is certainly worthy of all the attention and worship. However, when summer arrives, the meadows dry out, the flowers become seeds, and the cruelly fickle hordes of hikers abandon Tire Mountain, leaving the humble mountain bereft, loveless, and lonely. But, having visited Tire Mountain recently, I can state the mountain in summer still puts on a show and is definitely deserving of some adulation after the spring floral fireworks have faded into yesterseason.

A beautifully shaded forest

I had taken a week and a half off of hiking due to a stupid tweaked back so I wasn’t really expecting to stride athletically up and down steep trails with nary a drop of perspiration. It was no surprise then that my legs were complaining pretty much at the start when the trail angled uphill through a dark and shady forest. Accordingly, I adjusted my gait to a more measured hiking rhythm and life was pretty comfortable hiking-wise from there on in. Because of my relaxed pace and my well known proclivity to stop frequently for photography, my six comrades left me behind and basically I hiked as alone and lonely as Tire Mountain on a warm summer day.

 Slime mold appeals to my little boy sensibilities

At the start, the forest was lush and green, with ferns and many other verdant plants brushing up against hikers’ legs as they walked by, it was a good thing there was no poison oak in the area! A few plant species served up some desultory floral offerings such as ram’s horn pedicularis, inside-out flower, and Scouler’s harebell. Not as attractive, but maybe more interesting, were splotches of slime mold, looking all the world like dog barf, which would explain why one particular species of slime mold is actually called dog vomit slime mold.

A bit of a cliff hugger, here

The first mile and a half or so of the hike is a workmanlike climb through the forest for the sole purpose of getting into the large meadows higher up. Advance notice of the meadow splendors to come was given when the trail passed through a series of smaller pastures where the thick forest started thinning out. Those lovely erstwhile green meadows of spring were now acres and acres of dry brown grass, parching underneath the hot summer sun. The terms "wildfire season" and "summer" can be used interchangeably in southern Oregon and while no fires were burning nearby, smoke from our neighbor to the south (California) hazed up the nice view of the North Fork Willamette River valley seen from intermittent open spots in the forest.

Peace in a forest canopy

As the trail gained miles and elevation, vine maple began to assert itself in the forest, making for a nice shady hike underneath the green canopy of leaves illuminated by the bright July sun. In places, thick patches of ocean spray bushes were blooming underneath the trees, making both bees and butterflies happy. Several small seeps ran across the trail, the water from the springs turning the local greenery even greener. 

One single farewell-to-spring

As stated, the expansive meadows that make Tire Mountain so renowned were no longer green. However, farewell-to-spring, a member of the clarkia family, was putting on a fantastic display, making the meadows still a worthwhile destination in summer. Cups of the pink flower with its distinguishing red splotches colored up the hillsides, bringing all hiking to a screeching halt while the camera busily engaged in taking photos of flower after flower. Ookow and elegant brodiaea contributed their own little brand of lavender to all the pink and red emanating from the clarkia en masse.

In the deep dark woods

The latter portion of the hike (or “life after meadows” as we like to call it) was a steady uphill walk to the summit of Tire Mountain. The forest was sublime here, and the hike took place in the deep dark interior thereof. While uphill, the grade wasn’t too taxing which was fine with me and my sore back. That would change about a half-mile from the finish, when the path went legitimately steep on us as it switchbacked up to the Tire Mountain summit. The trail had not seen recent maintenance so we had to clamber over a series of fallen trees and maybe a landslide or two.

Tire Mountain

As an end destination, Tire Mountain's summit underwhelms. There used to be a lookout here but it has long since been removed. The brushy summit is ringed with trees which effectively block any would-be view. But we do hike here for some extra miles and a sense of destination and after meeting both those objectives by reaching the summit, we immediately turned around and ate lunch in the deep dark forest below the mountain top.

"Time to carry me! "

The obvious line of humor in closing would be something about being tired on Tire Mountain but I’ve worked that one to death in prior blogs, no sense rehashing that jaded and faded old pun. Maybe I could go with a slight variation on the theme with "I hiked Tire Mountain and was tired. I then hiked Tire Mountain again and was retired!", but we'll let canine friend Arlie have the final word. Using nonverbal communication much more eloquent and expressive than any prose I could conceivably come up with, he theatrically threw himself down at the trailhead, his whole body posture saying “I am so tired!”

Worst camouflage ever!

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

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Erma Bell Lakes

Fully prepared for yet another hike in the hot sun, I opened the door and much to my pleasant surprise, there was a slight chill in the air. The air was crisp and clear and small clouds dotted the perfectly blue sky. It felt and looked like a mild winter morn and that was a nice change from the deep fat fryer that has been Oregon of late. By the time I hit Cottage Grove on the drive to the Erma Bell Lakes Trailhead, clouds had covered up the sky which was now its normal gray color, just like sky is supposed to be. Of course, by the time I reached the trailhead, the clouds had dissipated and it was quite warm again, but there had been a crack in the weather molar and we have a pending appointment with a dentist of hope.

Just a beautiful day in the vine maples

Located in the southwest corner of the Three Sisters Wilderness, the lakes are closer to Waldo Lake than they are to the Three Sisters. Allegedly, this is a popular trail but there was only one other car at the trailhead when I arrived. Because there were no other hikers, this meant I experienced a higher per capita ratio of hungry mosquitoes. However, they were nowhere near as bad as the clouds of mini-vampires at Island Lake several weeks ago.  A quick spray of Deet held off the bloodsuckers for the time being.

Prince's pine

After crossing Skookum Creek, the trail headed into a superbly lush forest. Tall trees loomed overhead like the ribs of a Gothic cathedral and the forest floor was covered by a shag carpet of ferns, vanilla leaf, and prince's pine. Huckleberry bushes were festooned with red berries, all looking like small cherry tomatoes. The trail was wide, well-defined, and covered with pine needles, my footfalls were as silent as a sleeping cat as I walked through the trees. The trail became a little bit less civilized when I took the left turn on the Irish Mountain Trail after 0.6 miles.

There otter be a lake!

Angling uphill, the trail wandered through the woods, beargrass, and small hopping tree frogs for 0.5 miles before arriving at Otter Lake. The lake is just gorgeous, sitting below the forested slopes of unseen Irish Mountain. Lily pads floated serenely in the lake's waters along with a couple of ducks paddling slowly in the middle of the lake. After a quick photo-shoot, it was off to Williams Lake.

Fungus thingy

It was nearly 3 miles further to Williams Lake and its namesake trail wandered through forest interspersed with meadows. The meadows were all abloom with columbine, lupine, tiger lily, and spirea while the boggier meadows sported white feathers of bog orchid. Of course, the meadows were incredibly humid and I was soon as sweaty as a Sumo wrestler playing racquetball in a steam bath. 

Williams Lake

The trail had been climbing steadily and the forest changed from lush to scrawnier and more open as I neared Williams Lake. The lake arcs in a "C" and I got to experience it twice as the trail hit each leg of the "C". Dragonflies flitted over the lake while puffy clouds formed and reformed over the water. It was a nice stop for a lunch and lollygag and I obliged.

Whats up, Tiger Lily(s)?

Williams Lake was the high point of this hike, everything else was all downhill. Of course, I mean that quite literally as the trail descended off the high bench, switchbacking down into the basin containing the Erma Bell Lakes. I thought a lake spotted through the trees was Upper Erma Bell Lake but it turned out to be the unappealingly named Mud Lake.

Upper Erma Bell Lake

Upper Erma Bell Lake, was later spotted in similar fashion and I followed a faint use trail down to the lake. The lake was ringed with vegetation and fish jumped here and there. While there was some blue sky, it looked like the overcast from this morning was returning.

Steep scramble down to Middle Erma Bell Lake

The trail passed several hundred feet above Middle Erma Bell Lake and I took another faint trail down to the lake, cursing my fate as I would have to climb back up on the return. Across an arm of the lake, the lake disappeared around a forested peninsula with a marsh of aptly named marsh marigolds greening up the shoreline.

Waterfall between two lakes

As the path left Middle Erma Bell Lake, a huge roar carried through the forest. You could almost throw a rock from Middle Erma Bell Lake to Lower Erma Bell Lake, unless you have a partially fused wrist like your intrepid blogster. At any rate, the lakes are quite close together and are connected by a massive waterfall. Another sketchy side trail provided a cliffy view of the waterfall and much photography ensued.

Lower Erma Bell Lake

Lower Erma Bell is large and round with forest encroaching upon the rocky slopes surrounding the lake. At all the other lakes, the trend had been to take a faint use trail down a steep slope to see the lake and Lower Erma Bell Lake was no different. By this time, the day was well into overcast and it even felt like it might rain. After the dry clambake that has been July 2014, it felt good to be chilled.

Fringed pinesap

Leaving Lower Erma Bell Lake, the hike's 9.1 mile long loop was closed by walking the last 2 miles through that incredibly lush forest I had started out in. Sunlight slanted in between the overcast periods and through the trees I could see the vast and deep canyon of the North Fork Middle Fork Willamette River, or the Fork Fork as I like to call it.

Unnamed creek

On the way back, I ran into a party of 6 backpackers, headed towards Lower Erma Bell Lake. Not only were they carrying their packs but each hiker carried two armfuls of gear, including full 5 gallon water jugs. They were going to camp at a lake but were packing in water, what the....? That's a good recipe for hating backpacking and several of the women in the party already had the "hate this" look on their faces. Oh well, I enjoyed the hike and the mosquitoes enjoyed me.

You should eat more mosquitoes

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