tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19541697747842489942024-03-15T18:09:35.750-07:00Richard HikesOn most weekends, I can be found hiking on a trail somewhere in southern Oregon, with occasional forays into California, Washington, and Idaho.Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.comBlogger535125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-63548999850460055072022-09-30T08:00:00.593-07:002023-02-13T19:14:13.562-08:00North Umpqua Trail (Swiftwater Segment)<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyeNESd7OAZ2lXDtfkNX6NNFyZoGLeCsMNVHnd5FSkTkcHcocX6Kl-n2fWFKTcDVimaOXNf25QPRkT6s5T-8awYeeSUAYEjhktCPu9O41PkWTJLcfrGrH5ArgCZ0o66-EMDDK8XF6Hh1H16Fg3lfub059zmtBZ1HVoW02U7d62PAK7hOSQvheaAQwVg/s6000/52405492200_0bac74e687_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyeNESd7OAZ2lXDtfkNX6NNFyZoGLeCsMNVHnd5FSkTkcHcocX6Kl-n2fWFKTcDVimaOXNf25QPRkT6s5T-8awYeeSUAYEjhktCPu9O41PkWTJLcfrGrH5ArgCZ0o66-EMDDK8XF6Hh1H16Fg3lfub059zmtBZ1HVoW02U7d62PAK7hOSQvheaAQwVg/s320/52405492200_0bac74e687_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The lower half of the <a href="https://www.blm.gov/or/districts/roseburg/recreation/umpquatrails/" target="_blank">North Umpqua Trail </a>(NUT) used to be so beautiful. A jungle of lush vegetation thrived everywhere and deep shade kept the trail cool even in the warmest of summer days. But in the summer of 2020 the catastrophic <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2020_Oregon_wildfires" target="_blank">Archie Creek Fire</a> went on a fiery rampage and voila, nearly half of the NUT's 78 miles disappeared under landslides, fallen trees, and vigorous regrowth, all inevitable consequences of a large forest fire. In a small sign of progress however, a three-mile segment of trail between Susan Creek and Bob Creek has been restored and that's the subject of today's blog missive.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGA-pMERytVYUsiOoCxZaiSAtNwfUmveBApm_TeqYZn-jDnu05O65HmgfDnXGpq5PMsijqfjALh6vJVfbtKriwhwkuBFTt0AEoLL2wbbgjFWaqLytu4FcksmPVNlb0dg0rQZqOkmVIFebrNNTxFPuku5grVTluYQexOAc2GTc8a7GfZjEMRUQ4w127Sw/s6000/52397595063_ca72d72900_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGA-pMERytVYUsiOoCxZaiSAtNwfUmveBApm_TeqYZn-jDnu05O65HmgfDnXGpq5PMsijqfjALh6vJVfbtKriwhwkuBFTt0AEoLL2wbbgjFWaqLytu4FcksmPVNlb0dg0rQZqOkmVIFebrNNTxFPuku5grVTluYQexOAc2GTc8a7GfZjEMRUQ4w127Sw/s320/52397595063_ca72d72900_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This part of Susan Creek escaped Archie's wrath</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite Archie's best efforts to completely blacken the world, the Emerald Trail leading from Susan Creek Day Use Area to Tioga Bridge was still aptly named. The evergreen trees displayed their green foliage per usual, fern fronds draped over the trail, and green moss covered all that did not move. It was a poignant walk through forest totally untouched by fire, especially in view of the ashy devastation waiting for me across the river.</div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7VYnpFM-widkxiPrtElMv0wUCx1VjtK6o2G4h1YNIVpku3t_6ntNYPSwm0qZZsrV1Fg8mFyNR58HbOISyPbn6f98GEembuNoDyt2DIIEceuoo4TQ8YFDcLWKI1Z1T8opNOgDY1g0JF7zLHdirIHs5zxYPsCC-0C2AdAFTKVeiwCTrRpxRDZQZVPpUQ/s5919/52403224476_dbed17ca1b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3946" data-original-width="5919" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7VYnpFM-widkxiPrtElMv0wUCx1VjtK6o2G4h1YNIVpku3t_6ntNYPSwm0qZZsrV1Fg8mFyNR58HbOISyPbn6f98GEembuNoDyt2DIIEceuoo4TQ8YFDcLWKI1Z1T8opNOgDY1g0JF7zLHdirIHs5zxYPsCC-0C2AdAFTKVeiwCTrRpxRDZQZVPpUQ/s320/52403224476_dbed17ca1b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire damage and debris were evident<br />all along the North Umpqua Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Massive Tioga Bridge, still bearing Archie's scorch marks tattooed on the stout timbers, crossed the scenic North Umpqua River and "nice" work you've done here, Archie. The former rampant greenery has been supplanted by stand after stand of burned trees (rampant blackery?). Very few live trees exist here on the south side of the river, where the route followed the river from up on high and through all the charred tree trunks you could ever want to look at.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxDSZQ8W_tUamTIGvFJf34rryL9DDEH7O2ho9GoZ0oR3xrp-sIkkVfJnpu7Gj4LmzB0Gd94Mjdj5fQ8jfkhz8vwjxomPC-h9_c_Vr5Rv95Jlr-v7-aDHbn4fxQt7Kx89vNsxSx_uQtjdLMkG-QS8iVW_N1AOWRSzN3hCp06Db1KzJE_rLtx15U58dpQ/s6000/52396585532_e347b27e2d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxDSZQ8W_tUamTIGvFJf34rryL9DDEH7O2ho9GoZ0oR3xrp-sIkkVfJnpu7Gj4LmzB0Gd94Mjdj5fQ8jfkhz8vwjxomPC-h9_c_Vr5Rv95Jlr-v7-aDHbn4fxQt7Kx89vNsxSx_uQtjdLMkG-QS8iVW_N1AOWRSzN3hCp06Db1KzJE_rLtx15U58dpQ/s320/52396585532_e347b27e2d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It must have wooly bear season, they were<br />in profuse abundance on the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The NUT here is an old roadbed but because of the fire and increased sunlight, grass has taken over the trail, basically converting the roadbed into a narrow singletrack path. As I hiked on the grassy trail, small clouds of panicked grasshoppers fled in front of me. The trail tread was covered with wooly bears (a fuzzy caterpillar, not a real bear with teeth and claws and everything) and I had to watch my step to avoid squishing them. As far as I know, no wooly bears were harmed in the hiking of my hike, or at least no greenish-yellow caterpillar guts were found on a post-hike inspection of my boots.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ROutAQUjoVCh3VzNPzM-_tC8divjj2x_YVq0PH0e9dGeaKjDt2VwYCxU72u7V1E-q3cbPhER-Q_kdngn9rsp89GYbsF5jMP2tI2KJacZMgXM-QgwIQ0Ml3qhxnrInw6bMZaa8g8JCdFzF3VEYAObQo5bG5txS6593EDzJl1AGPWt99Ah8xsK9_HMEw/s6000/52403224886_6f54cb9709_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ROutAQUjoVCh3VzNPzM-_tC8divjj2x_YVq0PH0e9dGeaKjDt2VwYCxU72u7V1E-q3cbPhER-Q_kdngn9rsp89GYbsF5jMP2tI2KJacZMgXM-QgwIQ0Ml3qhxnrInw6bMZaa8g8JCdFzF3VEYAObQo5bG5txS6593EDzJl1AGPWt99Ah8xsK9_HMEw/s320/52403224886_6f54cb9709_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Falling trees will keep trail crews busy<br />for at least the next decade</td></tr></tbody></table><br />An appreciative round of applause should be directed to our friends at the BLM, for despite the amount of downfall everywhere, the trail had been totally cleared of debris. Sporting fresh cuts in mute testimony to the handiwork of the trail crews, there were several piles of fallen trees heaped next to the trail. It's no easy task keeping trails open after a large fire and the dead trees will continue to fall and create more hard work in the years to come.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCYJS6zgIdmJqMsuFcH9G-_hLRCIQ9RJzX9Xn0cFhlVgsbfYV7r9klB63bMKse18xv0HRImNouzrjWW-KCFxlN82PjzEzwkDaZ8yicBOnvoQ8c8rfOFRGQKY9t6v-pbR55r-ALJ1UZAm1OYGayo88HzMi8SaAXpCstpvnS-Vd226OGcWZJKhYX5k45Wg/s5238/52403723693_30c7defea5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="5238" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCYJS6zgIdmJqMsuFcH9G-_hLRCIQ9RJzX9Xn0cFhlVgsbfYV7r9klB63bMKse18xv0HRImNouzrjWW-KCFxlN82PjzEzwkDaZ8yicBOnvoQ8c8rfOFRGQKY9t6v-pbR55r-ALJ1UZAm1OYGayo88HzMi8SaAXpCstpvnS-Vd226OGcWZJKhYX5k45Wg/s320/52403723693_30c7defea5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stinky Bob is a lot prettier<br />than its name would suggest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />If you hike this trail in spring, seasonal creeks and cascades flow across or along the trail. However, hike it in late summer like I was doing, then the creeks had long since gone dry and the nominally green grass and other assorted vegetation were also heading toward that dried-out state of being. However, a small pink geranium known as Stinky Bob was still flowering away in brazen defiance of the coming autumn and winter. Poor Bob, whoever he may have been, his aroma must have been especially notable in view of the fact he has a flower named after him for all of perpetuity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxCT7p3PgNDN9NZBGLW8XfWf-Znsjn4UjK19vI7RW0tNTk6SjxppG1BmxNm5qCOJ5e3Et5ZWs4L95HPKR4eJg_iyQY-4gykB5CeBCL7Y2vTixuszHiborhiELV5oMcEvR_VvupENXUCs2yDH8dDTRbyXAgCe9xMuW60BoisHUkBL8crTXbsWjuQjTeA/s6000/52403651770_b978f89d50_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxCT7p3PgNDN9NZBGLW8XfWf-Znsjn4UjK19vI7RW0tNTk6SjxppG1BmxNm5qCOJ5e3Et5ZWs4L95HPKR4eJg_iyQY-4gykB5CeBCL7Y2vTixuszHiborhiELV5oMcEvR_VvupENXUCs2yDH8dDTRbyXAgCe9xMuW60BoisHUkBL8crTXbsWjuQjTeA/s320/52403651770_b978f89d50_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A grasshopper basks in the early autumn sun</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And speaking of autumn, much vegetative elements growing on the dead forest's floor were trending in that direction. Blackberry vines and alder, maple, and dogwood trees were beginning to participate in the autumn beauty pageant by blushing red, orange, yellow, or some hue in between. Most of the leaves were still green but a more colorful hike can be had by hiking here again in a couple of weeks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnBPziiZ_5w9s02z3nWFXti8wMel84O0Bf3uBduZoH6J0GPwJddXmjIH9j530Ir2HULZ4bs1nL004886qddVeUKq2vNMORqLyfMylJ5qBe8S8qlf-4NZypFyl0Uq2p5s0tVDnm6BEVOLSDf-XSQYVcYNt-Z0qcdUisJuyeKx29XgibaFNzK53ecBeaQ/s6000/52405340694_a6efc2fb50_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnBPziiZ_5w9s02z3nWFXti8wMel84O0Bf3uBduZoH6J0GPwJddXmjIH9j530Ir2HULZ4bs1nL004886qddVeUKq2vNMORqLyfMylJ5qBe8S8qlf-4NZypFyl0Uq2p5s0tVDnm6BEVOLSDf-XSQYVcYNt-Z0qcdUisJuyeKx29XgibaFNzK53ecBeaQ/s320/52405340694_a6efc2fb50_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow Man sends greetings from Bob Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br />All that remains of the stout footbridge spanning Bob Creek is a pile of chopped wooden blocks, left over from when the fire-damaged bridge had been dismantled by the authorities. Bob Creek may have been a mere trickle but its defile was a difficult, but not impossible, obstacle to overcome. However, the reward for doing so would be hiking on an unmaintained trail through fire wreckage that is probably officially off limits anyway. I really don't need to pay a fine for hiking on a closed trail, either.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdd4VJzhC9kxscPcw6kunX2xDDPsBJjI_MnI5QUYrEbfASmf3ZOoWu7nT5xDjucCm2JJukV3shhgeMKCKjdXmF55LgZN8FIHe_CxOdaUvVbeffUsLT8gqCwipDQHTcHYwO7EMOZqRfBX6w7VuLq4zUxkRkxToC9WRooyn6-SeHQFbnwHsFb52q0rcHA/s6000/52409455840_d6679bf9a4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdd4VJzhC9kxscPcw6kunX2xDDPsBJjI_MnI5QUYrEbfASmf3ZOoWu7nT5xDjucCm2JJukV3shhgeMKCKjdXmF55LgZN8FIHe_CxOdaUvVbeffUsLT8gqCwipDQHTcHYwO7EMOZqRfBX6w7VuLq4zUxkRkxToC9WRooyn6-SeHQFbnwHsFb52q0rcHA/s320/52409455840_d6679bf9a4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The North Umpqua River sparkles in the sun</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, it was back the way I came, all the way back to the picnic area at Susan Creek. The hike had been an easy 5 miles, so I added a walk to Susan Creek Campground and back for a more worthy distance. The trail to the campground was mostly lush and green, although the woods by the campground had also been burned. In the open sunlight, scarlet poison oak leaves advertised the presence of that accursed plant. Below the path, the North Umpqua River sparkled in the afternoon sun and I couldn't escape noticing thousands of acres of dead trees on the other side of the river, extending all the way up into the surrounding mountains.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO28qTVMqOXH1rzpRhNKuLOuoHbSQ9-RBmskJDsLuMpCwFXtu6wO5djHLn5QmbiqPDfIt_aNMalDempkAdOwJkRwmBRZoi8DSMX7AgV0hDWiiEgLvGK3xhZ7k_hBASeQ25_G-kEgncZh0OyZUWbe4NR-hCLpd02J5KEEJfpKsVn6kIMMBR_U1XiLssQ/s6000/52408509312_4c6ca5ba0a_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO28qTVMqOXH1rzpRhNKuLOuoHbSQ9-RBmskJDsLuMpCwFXtu6wO5djHLn5QmbiqPDfIt_aNMalDempkAdOwJkRwmBRZoi8DSMX7AgV0hDWiiEgLvGK3xhZ7k_hBASeQ25_G-kEgncZh0OyZUWbe4NR-hCLpd02J5KEEJfpKsVn6kIMMBR_U1XiLssQ/s320/52408509312_4c6ca5ba0a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferns from the Shadow Realm</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I've often said there is beauty in a burn zone and I'm really trying hard to love this section of the North Umpqua Trail all over again. But damn, it used to be so beautiful before Archie's sacking and pillage of the once and former live forest. I'll keep working on my attitude, though.<p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkjqOM5705uWed7HaWVWekJkLaFGvCim4ZIGtq38BGgF03wOJlbXaaNVaVgK6RcmYXDJZF73xGpcg4GXP0sAmId7Xd_46WQuN0RLowqNWk9xUk0Buyw3XBbxyBst8B4b-T1IDGIbHfuU7yTz52Zke0w2aF9IBMLs13YmYc55BMeVij-xY9isigttYIg/s6000/52404546572_ecd884e475_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkjqOM5705uWed7HaWVWekJkLaFGvCim4ZIGtq38BGgF03wOJlbXaaNVaVgK6RcmYXDJZF73xGpcg4GXP0sAmId7Xd_46WQuN0RLowqNWk9xUk0Buyw3XBbxyBst8B4b-T1IDGIbHfuU7yTz52Zke0w2aF9IBMLs13YmYc55BMeVij-xY9isigttYIg/s320/52404546572_ecd884e475_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katydid did it</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA9k2E" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div> <iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5251173955?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-10-10T03:11:47+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss4152" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5251173955" class="jss4153"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4154 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss4155"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4156 jss4177 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss4154">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Susan Creek Day Use Area, 29629-29819 Rogue-Umpqua Scenic Byway, Idleyld Park, OR 97447, USA43.2985417 -122.904963314.988307863821156 -158.06121330000002 71.608775536178854 -87.7487133tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-23011228672151534082022-09-19T08:00:00.432-07:002023-01-28T13:26:47.380-08:00Upper Rogue River Trail (Crater Rim Trailhead)<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQJEa471o-BjMrrUOjeruoT1vCRXuEoQ2Lbbs7VUYr3o9U9k9k44AxeYJCwdedlBSrhqVEPPTgEnlwLnKAKLB-crd82-1r4KPkRAPpIA3hEgtRi-PclNYwR19V2zCDaE00LSgY6nhSdODGYAsWdspIirVhtHpPhBS8WDxzU3TzcfJ6dHdzxG1Ngs0LA/s6000/52377124219_6e9d2555fc_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQJEa471o-BjMrrUOjeruoT1vCRXuEoQ2Lbbs7VUYr3o9U9k9k44AxeYJCwdedlBSrhqVEPPTgEnlwLnKAKLB-crd82-1r4KPkRAPpIA3hEgtRi-PclNYwR19V2zCDaE00LSgY6nhSdODGYAsWdspIirVhtHpPhBS8WDxzU3TzcfJ6dHdzxG1Ngs0LA/s320/52377124219_6e9d2555fc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Rough Rider Falls is like the hiking version of Moby Dick. Ever elusive, the cascade remains an obsessive quest for me and if I don't ever get there, it won't be for lack of trying. Maybe my new trail name should be Captain Ahab. Although, I prefer to think of the unobtainable waterfall as the hiking equivalent of the Holy Grail, if only because Sir Galahad is a much cooler trail name than Captain Ahab. At any rate, my Rough Rider Falls saga continued with yet another attempt to get there.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vMjckNWCxmaxKYLTmaxO8zpUCg8p4gOoW1jmg1COrB4nPlyllboI80e9Ra0UacIBWwpgOd7fCRZMMFdV0t7OSzkl9-y79xP58tgNoT_wnVREtk0JnZuI3QoCP7UVVhRd9PKSoFELfM7w-8-y-iB0zKDRrtxQdoAc9UtKM71gniOhDh-bwawTwTIIJg/s5672/52377219570_c6c5d50d75_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3781" data-original-width="5672" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vMjckNWCxmaxKYLTmaxO8zpUCg8p4gOoW1jmg1COrB4nPlyllboI80e9Ra0UacIBWwpgOd7fCRZMMFdV0t7OSzkl9-y79xP58tgNoT_wnVREtk0JnZuI3QoCP7UVVhRd9PKSoFELfM7w-8-y-iB0zKDRrtxQdoAc9UtKM71gniOhDh-bwawTwTIIJg/s320/52377219570_c6c5d50d75_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wet from the morning rain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Faithful readers (all three of you) will recall that on two previous occasions I had tried to hike to the falls on the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=69944" target="_blank">Upper Rogue River Trail (URRT)</a> via <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=69936" target="_blank">Hamaker Trailhead</a>. The same readers will also note that the attempts both failed when huge piles of fallen trees blocked further progress along the trail. So, why not try it from the upper end of the URRT? What could ever go wrong?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppG6nnEkxTXM-R8B--rL3Xqe3I12JFfe5yDsk_8AMANRsUhMETvPtAnfPopHAJtanKDmZ9TpOlyxUIB_7jb5PwWuarIfEx74EiWOX3HwSJ0RPMatFgdplSavKEKYA15bxTiJwv1SxZwZRqSyPSs3zAP8byXB3asssNyrc2b32MMBSR2LLp00Azvfs2A/s6000/52383405462_35955e2569_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppG6nnEkxTXM-R8B--rL3Xqe3I12JFfe5yDsk_8AMANRsUhMETvPtAnfPopHAJtanKDmZ9TpOlyxUIB_7jb5PwWuarIfEx74EiWOX3HwSJ0RPMatFgdplSavKEKYA15bxTiJwv1SxZwZRqSyPSs3zAP8byXB3asssNyrc2b32MMBSR2LLp00Azvfs2A/s320/52383405462_35955e2569_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty much all the 10 mile hike was like this</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Missy, Terry, and I set out from the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=69948" target="_blank">Crater Rim Trailhead</a> with a cheery "Call me Ishmael". That only makes sense if you've read "Moby Dick", which might explain the puzzled looks received from my two companions. This area had been totally charred in the 2015 <a href="https://wildfiretoday.com/tag/crescent-fire/" target="_blank">Crescent Fire</a>, and a new forest is sprouting below the acres and acres (and even more acres) of dead lodgepole pine trees. This hike would be all about hiking in a burn zone in both a good and bad way.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqMtwfOKdj6DrSrM2mQOHacBSIUDFPFfSQ9z1_e_v-R-hE63MrVr81wRby0MltM_G-qnOXMm2dPp_HWpfOur7n5OUDIm8xsWRMSMWe9azxJxXmt7osZD_lGAY1z2xqwbybAbQX2roOtxdWJLRfdycIl4XJu23mKGVChKNAB-r3ai5zLqyvXYBQk_5iQ/s6000/52379353595_ba741a2e54_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqMtwfOKdj6DrSrM2mQOHacBSIUDFPFfSQ9z1_e_v-R-hE63MrVr81wRby0MltM_G-qnOXMm2dPp_HWpfOur7n5OUDIm8xsWRMSMWe9azxJxXmt7osZD_lGAY1z2xqwbybAbQX2roOtxdWJLRfdycIl4XJu23mKGVChKNAB-r3ai5zLqyvXYBQk_5iQ/s320/52379353595_ba741a2e54_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortunately, we didn't have to dodge lightning bolts</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Crescent Fire had been set alight by a lightning storm and coincidentally, there was a chance of lightning in the current forecast. The day was dark and cloudy, but electric death rays from the sky never materialized and while we did get a few drops of rain, the day went sunny at one juncture too. At any rate, we hiked on a wildly spectacular cloud day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbO0QEuG6QQEfcfXoj5k8GCpaCkqb1jBCHF9dII-2FFRE1YE7jy0HwIsfLRmczrlqwhTKCG3tSFRjdMW_XPZ9WJ6z4JdMBML0Js8YOl360kEGNGET0XsnGsCsyuoinmZJT_P-6RnsHpSq1mIq0K_Jqu2zpbPHri5eFSUfhU8S1oEoQ0l0YG8dlbJ73bw/s6000/52379348980_0251e8e98b_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbO0QEuG6QQEfcfXoj5k8GCpaCkqb1jBCHF9dII-2FFRE1YE7jy0HwIsfLRmczrlqwhTKCG3tSFRjdMW_XPZ9WJ6z4JdMBML0Js8YOl360kEGNGET0XsnGsCsyuoinmZJT_P-6RnsHpSq1mIq0K_Jqu2zpbPHri5eFSUfhU8S1oEoQ0l0YG8dlbJ73bw/s320/52379348980_0251e8e98b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The massive canyon of the Upper Rogue</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Just a few miles removed from its inception at Boundary Springs, the Rogue River flowed below the trail. The soil here is all pumice and soft volcanic ash, delivered no doubt when Mount Mazama experienced the cataclysmic eruption that created Crater Lake. Soft soil is no match for persistent running water, and consequently, the river has carved out an incredibly deep gorge north of Crater Lake. Since there was no more forest to clutter up the view, thanks to the Crescent Fire, we enjoyed constant views of the massive canyon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxbnNaAbZmp5CNXY0x5ST0A_vcqyziKEn_yXe3txvHW0zbDsvA4YzsQVADt44tXl3MjTYu-HipdKnLjrbgsXeEKqXa7sY_97V2pB2euKdGlmy8Lh8UISRRguQZ4m6XXD1bdwsWO33B6Hadzi8E-A7yq5JjRIRI0Z1SFCXyPSKIsLZ-dy5STE6vp0FqQ/s6000/52381758116_093745fc67_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxbnNaAbZmp5CNXY0x5ST0A_vcqyziKEn_yXe3txvHW0zbDsvA4YzsQVADt44tXl3MjTYu-HipdKnLjrbgsXeEKqXa7sY_97V2pB2euKdGlmy8Lh8UISRRguQZ4m6XXD1bdwsWO33B6Hadzi8E-A7yq5JjRIRI0Z1SFCXyPSKIsLZ-dy5STE6vp0FqQ/s320/52381758116_093745fc67_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cottonwood Creek's canyon rivaled the Rogue's in size</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We were basically following the gorge's rim but at one point the trail peeled away from the rim and commenced a rather lengthy detour around Cascade Creek. Soft volcanic soils are no match for persistent creeks either, and Cascade Creek had carved out its own gorge, rivaling the Rogue's in deepness and size, yet totally incommensurate with the creek's small water flow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oYRyJdqkR9oKlay5v71dCwPvDIRp6mfjAH_xqAzbjRVk7lG8R9PozjMN8kKEypR8LDGKZE2LJqucO9pxzaDNkjASK0i9AhNvRHnhj89x3xUcL1qXL4JLewRzhukKLaZM6fSyma2oz6Po--jm3hyLagYyrJPy7lL1iX6m9fbB3-tlyD76ZNgWSiJ92A/s6000/52378934241_0c0d092b80_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oYRyJdqkR9oKlay5v71dCwPvDIRp6mfjAH_xqAzbjRVk7lG8R9PozjMN8kKEypR8LDGKZE2LJqucO9pxzaDNkjASK0i9AhNvRHnhj89x3xUcL1qXL4JLewRzhukKLaZM6fSyma2oz6Po--jm3hyLagYyrJPy7lL1iX6m9fbB3-tlyD76ZNgWSiJ92A/s320/52378934241_0c0d092b80_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking on an increasingly sketchy trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The farther we hiked from the junction with the Boundary Springs Trail, the sketchier the path became. Fallen trees were strewn about, and the hike became all about getting over, under, or around them. No trees means increased sunlight, which means increased vegetation, which in turn means a disappearing trail. However, the Siskiyou Mountain Club had cleared this trail several years ago and we navigated by looking for log cuts and stumps left over from their handiwork. If we couldn't find those signs, then we just simply walked along the rim until we did.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-MGQpqRiVFgPdXUEJxfVqMLhrUXoDKD4fXnLw5NFLEt-7-y0PFp3nvqg-HzZejCzVB9ObtCMX0Yla55ST3EnBuhe-Ds-l4YychDPMp96IMkSMqoapWVhqt5jDrLrlWfP7qdn_quQ9hK-rEArZUnCsk9rqyoq8RnHCJyAclBtqNWMopMgrfQnXidx6nw/s6000/52381998453_4f72376b81_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-MGQpqRiVFgPdXUEJxfVqMLhrUXoDKD4fXnLw5NFLEt-7-y0PFp3nvqg-HzZejCzVB9ObtCMX0Yla55ST3EnBuhe-Ds-l4YychDPMp96IMkSMqoapWVhqt5jDrLrlWfP7qdn_quQ9hK-rEArZUnCsk9rqyoq8RnHCJyAclBtqNWMopMgrfQnXidx6nw/s320/52381998453_4f72376b81_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail disappeared from view at times</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We did find the trail going down into the canyon, but it was in poor shape. Besides the obligatory fallen trees and encroaching vegetation, we had to contend with scrabbling across a couple of small landslides. When we reached the bottom of the canyon, a short confab was convened where I consulted with my GPS to see where we were in relation to the falls.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCpyiusUtDMproHk5d3xIn5oC3clgLg1sIepRLmlimDbgPwYX60cqmEBaRW21XxsYImx14txsaJH8i3-eJ_a4GmVQZeRpm6W-gy-xkZnMhXQ_7QKvKVx9Ee4VS1EwU0rC1HyA1hsYnrTA7t2zfdxBerO86cGkXd_na6FGUeBJTUUY9UwQN6NGqpLKdA/s6000/52382183130_c4eca64652_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCpyiusUtDMproHk5d3xIn5oC3clgLg1sIepRLmlimDbgPwYX60cqmEBaRW21XxsYImx14txsaJH8i3-eJ_a4GmVQZeRpm6W-gy-xkZnMhXQ_7QKvKVx9Ee4VS1EwU0rC1HyA1hsYnrTA7t2zfdxBerO86cGkXd_na6FGUeBJTUUY9UwQN6NGqpLKdA/s320/52382183130_c4eca64652_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down in the Rogue's canyon</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Things I learned about GPSs and online maps because of this hike: If you switch to street map to topographical to terrain view, objects (like Rough Rider Falls) can appear and disappear. The same thing can occur if you zoom in or out. The practical application of all this took place on the trail when I could not locate Rough Rider Falls on my GPS (because I had zoomed in). I could see an unnamed waterfall upstream of us but getting there was impossible because of the amount of fire debris and downfall clogging up the river canyon. As it turned out in hindsight, the falls were only about a third of a mile on the trail ahead of us. So close! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETiE_N3y9hOlJvrITupTJwD75ckemfdqpG5FpiZmvvdOysm3KFM0VH66vDcF77pO6H0ouFq_wxuoLFeC-T9tVNaXDQEbpxmL1G2ZRxicTM5BjGy5SZ4z6NjP4NasqTXt6RLrHO3wfPJl7rsgP3t45rXsfJA_TuzIHybKAEJk_jyIDuQDJoPH7cdgWXA/s6000/52384764480_4aaf2302f6_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETiE_N3y9hOlJvrITupTJwD75ckemfdqpG5FpiZmvvdOysm3KFM0VH66vDcF77pO6H0ouFq_wxuoLFeC-T9tVNaXDQEbpxmL1G2ZRxicTM5BjGy5SZ4z6NjP4NasqTXt6RLrHO3wfPJl7rsgP3t45rXsfJA_TuzIHybKAEJk_jyIDuQDJoPH7cdgWXA/s320/52384764480_4aaf2302f6_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bushwhacking, if you overlook the lack of bushes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Believing that we could not get to Roughrider Falls, we turned around and headed back through the many miles of dead trees. At Cascade Creek. Missy suggested we go cross-country to the URRT and that sounded fun so off we went. I hesitate to call it a bushwhack because that would imply bushes, and there really weren't any. Also, it wasn't like there was that much difference between our overland route and the trail anyway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1UtpvUsRUMspiDx0FtYVCVaD4XUhfe5kMK5uhc7m4HSzUmA5wbqGvzwVDSsMGbxBsRNVeDub9CKkIvAGZOIUVtWkMKvEO8Nl-swN57xLy3z1XaTDhMBYtRs4q1EjGIbZvrLP-yb1fa5E3Cr4OuLss2Ze0c5wpkJahuQnCIwhEEC90XrpHvpJF3WyTA/s5361/52379347465_33540bc932_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3574" data-original-width="5361" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1UtpvUsRUMspiDx0FtYVCVaD4XUhfe5kMK5uhc7m4HSzUmA5wbqGvzwVDSsMGbxBsRNVeDub9CKkIvAGZOIUVtWkMKvEO8Nl-swN57xLy3z1XaTDhMBYtRs4q1EjGIbZvrLP-yb1fa5E3Cr4OuLss2Ze0c5wpkJahuQnCIwhEEC90XrpHvpJF3WyTA/s320/52379347465_33540bc932_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fireweed thrived in the burn area</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, the URRT is where hiking dreams go to die. But not completely, though. A friend of mine did reach the falls by starting at milepost 115 on the nearby highway, and then bushwhacking to the trail. Armed with this knowledge, I can already envision a fourth attempt to capture my great white whale of a hike. Aargh, just call me Captain Ahab.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgao44bRrQQjS7kr187QrKaQLlnKYaxMokYt3AdW1OhfHcDKMxNIlSttOmG_vYDP_ltU3ef9dA8Brz7mUlYtRV4dy3bBlTF9Dlrh0CI-LipJnY2U4Qdfht8SfFCgkcNLMIVjgF-BvIKcvqaDO1ChKBS-jhz3-SIbTb7yScpP8VGMOdZbYSRoYs4jgc7yA/s6000/52385231587_eebb1e6c75_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgao44bRrQQjS7kr187QrKaQLlnKYaxMokYt3AdW1OhfHcDKMxNIlSttOmG_vYDP_ltU3ef9dA8Brz7mUlYtRV4dy3bBlTF9Dlrh0CI-LipJnY2U4Qdfht8SfFCgkcNLMIVjgF-BvIKcvqaDO1ChKBS-jhz3-SIbTb7yScpP8VGMOdZbYSRoYs4jgc7yA/s320/52385231587_eebb1e6c75_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the closest we got to the Rogue River</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA8b45" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.</p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5251173670?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2023-01-24T03:57:25+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss1325" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5251173670" class="jss1326"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss1327 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss1328"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss1329 jss1350 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss1327">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Boundary Springs Trailhead, Diamond Lake, OR, USA43.0908923 -122.221698843.084624641231507 -122.23028186884765 43.097159958768493 -122.21311573115234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-7254350771196168952022-09-17T08:00:00.560-07:002023-01-27T17:44:20.958-08:00Fish Lake<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqRUgv0ArocLXzjTSLIXzVRNwWeTeR8nCmC8eIWIWPwI47xAtRFq2xEWlDaU9VjEL410TsZO3mcQESXdR1Xj3m-WuJnle1s25Lnl2j-Uhnm81w8nrbGvIjsAL7tbOT9-SwEilSaTTCTDhldPeDUYv_7OFPaKpiACSaVym8QXEklJsaRPNWq8CLrDaUA/s7256/52376820221_40e435ec45_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3616" data-original-width="7256" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqRUgv0ArocLXzjTSLIXzVRNwWeTeR8nCmC8eIWIWPwI47xAtRFq2xEWlDaU9VjEL410TsZO3mcQESXdR1Xj3m-WuJnle1s25Lnl2j-Uhnm81w8nrbGvIjsAL7tbOT9-SwEilSaTTCTDhldPeDUYv_7OFPaKpiACSaVym8QXEklJsaRPNWq8CLrDaUA/s320/52376820221_40e435ec45_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Back in 2004, I </span><span>first hiked along Fish Lake Creek to </span><span>Fish Lake via the </span><a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recarea/?recid=63828" target="_blank">Fish Lake Trail</a><span>. It had been two years after the Tiller Complex Fire(s) had swept through the area, completely immolating the forest all along the trail, leaving behind an obstacle course of blackened and fallen trees to hike over, under, and around. For me, it has always been interesting to come hike here and observe the forest gradually heal itself after the fire.</span></div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFVCR0aT5uLnldWDf75ZhWe2MDwAbMMiVGOOeKf0yZkhrY50HHPzU4uyd7qwsADPui9b3btLHHubKG3qCtxNORIp8PiFvG2qgjyjesyTeMRS5LT3yfgYgDdNHLP5FxnTPOY4R1JckSxIgyQxnK86KTDt_lAqH9EV8WcV9moLIgcMWDYVzQRJyu5rkAw/s6000/52376802951_ee69c6395e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFVCR0aT5uLnldWDf75ZhWe2MDwAbMMiVGOOeKf0yZkhrY50HHPzU4uyd7qwsADPui9b3btLHHubKG3qCtxNORIp8PiFvG2qgjyjesyTeMRS5LT3yfgYgDdNHLP5FxnTPOY4R1JckSxIgyQxnK86KTDt_lAqH9EV8WcV9moLIgcMWDYVzQRJyu5rkAw/s320/52376802951_ee69c6395e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site of the 2002 Tiller Complex Fire</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'm not sure what happened to the piles of trees laying on the trail in 2004, for there is very little sign of the fire damage from twenty years ago. Presumably, they decomposed into the earth, but sheesh, there was about two solid miles of them! At any rate, the only tangible sign of the 2002 fire is a stand of dead trees high on a ridge, bleached by the sun, with new starts taking root beneath the bones of their still standing (but very dead) ancestors. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_lkVU1L7jGYpKNKiWJWEJf7ua-JjD6e1Z15EggGmLFCk1dNbp0SuwKiciMxcfka0DTCqhL6PJQWMlL3lc9L8PSavF6vvSVe4bN-Sh5FXdCyLiTgPUCVs26ZtqrMxqC3JgcThNhn_ogBHPM37_frtSmw5ZV-mtSrffPk8nDs9EzUoQINeGoIP16TfJw/s6000/52374949265_919c02b9e9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_lkVU1L7jGYpKNKiWJWEJf7ua-JjD6e1Z15EggGmLFCk1dNbp0SuwKiciMxcfka0DTCqhL6PJQWMlL3lc9L8PSavF6vvSVe4bN-Sh5FXdCyLiTgPUCVs26ZtqrMxqC3JgcThNhn_ogBHPM37_frtSmw5ZV-mtSrffPk8nDs9EzUoQINeGoIP16TfJw/s320/52374949265_919c02b9e9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Working our way over a woodpile</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And speaking of ancient denizens of the forest, the <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Umpqua</a> hiked to Fish Lake on a late summer day. There had been subsequent fires in the area since the 2002 burn and we still had to negotiate our way past individual fallen trees and one rather large and formidable collection of them numbering maybe a dozen. Depending on the preference of individual hikers, we either scrambled over or bushwhacked around. Either way, it was work and tedium.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-Qxyk5I3r9WiZE9kuaaz7_97Um3IJw42ErTqc9GOLlzXhVo42tJeVfOVEnZeBEuTgUt_UHFceav-waJwlUhJJwPUjbzC-tjQRsd-zBZFWaQCdzM5fzG19xX04CQJBXhr9BNA7tm3G7GRn9zMB3FfVDUevlhBapZZhj2K3od94My-3ugcpjKd6F9CXQ/s6000/52373143201_2a9d1365cd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-Qxyk5I3r9WiZE9kuaaz7_97Um3IJw42ErTqc9GOLlzXhVo42tJeVfOVEnZeBEuTgUt_UHFceav-waJwlUhJJwPUjbzC-tjQRsd-zBZFWaQCdzM5fzG19xX04CQJBXhr9BNA7tm3G7GRn9zMB3FfVDUevlhBapZZhj2K3od94My-3ugcpjKd6F9CXQ/s320/52373143201_2a9d1365cd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queen Anne's Lace zealously<br />hoards this year's crop of seeds</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was technically summer but not for long. On the day of the hike, the temperature was autumnally cool and the sky overcast, in a clear harbinger of the coming fall season. Thimbleberry leaves were already turning yellow while dried seed heads of Queen Anne's lace were knotted up like so many bony arthritic fists. But it was poison oak that was all in for autumn, their bright red leaves serving as a warning flag to bare-legged hikers hiking in shorts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2h-Ooiv3r6ii-WpuyffpG28DdLePQm1pXwpe4P-Q0-0uMPUXYFgKRf83-yUf3dXtWSWKqkLlSa3wSRrXh3NsgW4_4teAMvsTX1TvW8rTKu1UZzhUaQH-qpmNg6vhXWawFD2uAcLkiHwxQmBi9iKAOqXjwOmdVRwvDs_eACwol5Tex4KgohbQqhjUdNw/s6000/52374756063_784f99f276_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2h-Ooiv3r6ii-WpuyffpG28DdLePQm1pXwpe4P-Q0-0uMPUXYFgKRf83-yUf3dXtWSWKqkLlSa3wSRrXh3NsgW4_4teAMvsTX1TvW8rTKu1UZzhUaQH-qpmNg6vhXWawFD2uAcLkiHwxQmBi9iKAOqXjwOmdVRwvDs_eACwol5Tex4KgohbQqhjUdNw/s320/52374756063_784f99f276_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The worms are gone but their tents remain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Another sign of autumn were the webby tents of fall webworms, a caterpillar that en masse, defoliates madrone trees and creates web nests on the branches for protection. The caterpillars had already left the nests to pupate but their webs remained on leafless madrone branches for hikers to look at and poke. An odd little factoid is that the caterpillars are social eaters, leaving the nest during the day to forage together in creepy-crawly companionship. Often seen heading to higher branches in large groups, they literally are true social climbers, minus the traits of overtly obsequious sycophants we all know and don't love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIK7yVSnBM_oXaLQ1pMX-Sxzo_6VoU6hn2fp97vP2R1U7FD2BWuebwQYSZ_OeeZLhraMPhlY7YrSPaIVWDQ3bkT5RFf0eihnVQqzlpjz2tfZ1erIpTfGGC96oQJGomb-uSWSjy0x2xa5Ge4LiO0TH2xMkTp52rzAZYGpGIJY0xUaJjdE02Uu75_MTXg/s6000/52373582072_955cbeecbc_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIK7yVSnBM_oXaLQ1pMX-Sxzo_6VoU6hn2fp97vP2R1U7FD2BWuebwQYSZ_OeeZLhraMPhlY7YrSPaIVWDQ3bkT5RFf0eihnVQqzlpjz2tfZ1erIpTfGGC96oQJGomb-uSWSjy0x2xa5Ge4LiO0TH2xMkTp52rzAZYGpGIJY0xUaJjdE02Uu75_MTXg/s320/52373582072_955cbeecbc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike checks out the tall cliff</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail initially followed Fish Lake Creek but about a mile into the hike, the path peeled away from the stream and headed uphill, inscribing a route around the headwaters of an unnamed side creek. Points of interest along the way were a massive cliff looming over the trail, the aforementioned dead forest from the 2002 fire, and an overlook of Fish Lake Creek's impressive canyon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYeRr-cp2DwSn77vGtws-EqJhShFtLk1VDZ47pS9KbcbpL-t4i_f3Du70skspEQgwoA9Db2lAeoDZdcs-gH6QeCk7ExQt724qMIrGUZ9pB2OMj8h6CMgDx83ssoPg5vCAx9hdOAJrb36iF3Y_Hz5R8S29ESHrpbepJo9LtTZvTFQIoEs321TPC50t2w/s6000/52373579447_a1432d43b3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYeRr-cp2DwSn77vGtws-EqJhShFtLk1VDZ47pS9KbcbpL-t4i_f3Du70skspEQgwoA9Db2lAeoDZdcs-gH6QeCk7ExQt724qMIrGUZ9pB2OMj8h6CMgDx83ssoPg5vCAx9hdOAJrb36iF3Y_Hz5R8S29ESHrpbepJo9LtTZvTFQIoEs321TPC50t2w/s320/52373579447_a1432d43b3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaver Swamp</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Beaver Swamp is a marshy little pond that the trail fishhooks around. Often, turtles are spotted sunning themselves on mossy logs, but not on this overcast day. The waters were quiet, seemingly devoid of animal life, although there were game paths visible in the marsh grasses surrounding the swamp. The picturesque quality of the bucolic marsh almost made us forget we were hiking uphill as we hiked up and around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhPww5adJWLAIXhUVB9vRwJhdbkyCjUQeA4T88azPDG3DrnqZlSfJF-mWT8T6J1w1tSfUZ1xz-F1gTYT2Z1qBHkMVqQKnzV0yyMSNGq5LQF7mdf58gFt9p3kALAXTY3oABcvivbmuw1UH-A2KpNb19Ugt0a18XMgFasb2_y8NdDluBEdXrLfDzQpwHw/s6000/52374828659_76484044a7_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhPww5adJWLAIXhUVB9vRwJhdbkyCjUQeA4T88azPDG3DrnqZlSfJF-mWT8T6J1w1tSfUZ1xz-F1gTYT2Z1qBHkMVqQKnzV0yyMSNGq5LQF7mdf58gFt9p3kALAXTY3oABcvivbmuw1UH-A2KpNb19Ugt0a18XMgFasb2_y8NdDluBEdXrLfDzQpwHw/s320/52374828659_76484044a7_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail through a forest not yet touched by fire</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail quickly climbed away from Beaver Swamp and entered a forest that was notable because it was the first forest on the day that had not yet been touched by fire, knock on live wood. The undergrowth was vibrant and moss covered most inanimate objects, present company excepted. The trees sported leaves and needles and it was almost jarring to see so much green color and hue after spending several miles and hours in burn zones old and new.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaNzdEkmzzDiZ5JilkAV35_9oKFqfKVyirEQr-nZ0d10HonbRzt7rO98wiVWkvu1R3xT6P9VAmcu9OppHvL8Vg2xL4D0zPdGoWY5s2G70cAA55mcpvO0QhKacsd33teYTKsHfKIymDk5CpG7tMwh6g6StJLuLLDCHJcBI4yELLkOrdVJionIwaWn5UQ/s6000/52377132464_278a839d4c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaNzdEkmzzDiZ5JilkAV35_9oKFqfKVyirEQr-nZ0d10HonbRzt7rO98wiVWkvu1R3xT6P9VAmcu9OppHvL8Vg2xL4D0zPdGoWY5s2G70cAA55mcpvO0QhKacsd33teYTKsHfKIymDk5CpG7tMwh6g6StJLuLLDCHJcBI4yELLkOrdVJionIwaWn5UQ/s320/52377132464_278a839d4c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tip of Highrock Mountain looms from up on high</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The reason you slog uphill for four miles is Fish Lake itself. Ringed by mountains and forest, the large alpine lake is a most worthy destination. The massive wall of Rocky Rim, a meritorious hike in its own right, loomed at the other end of the lake. However, craggy Highrock Mountain commanded our attention, lording over the scene like a king's castle proudly surveying its domain. We were but mere vassals in the presence of such majesty, although we stopped just short of groveling at the mountain's feet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDN5hnAreCfzx8GlGu2imNOxw-0pkDHblmXkzuJlcLMCGC5yo_R39a-JKa2VfR8l_wGLY3M5rTTnLfQp5rLwMzwwPh06D6ArcYrGRp_ql0EkRX0uFZr-gJdNAm2nZE6iQpLzirrosF2TRkr3Qb9sSXKKvctWk3kqrIRrup6mWyw6P-PNy-aecLMfmRYg/s5874/52377126469_89797cbee4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3916" data-original-width="5874" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDN5hnAreCfzx8GlGu2imNOxw-0pkDHblmXkzuJlcLMCGC5yo_R39a-JKa2VfR8l_wGLY3M5rTTnLfQp5rLwMzwwPh06D6ArcYrGRp_ql0EkRX0uFZr-gJdNAm2nZE6iQpLzirrosF2TRkr3Qb9sSXKKvctWk3kqrIRrup6mWyw6P-PNy-aecLMfmRYg/s320/52377126469_89797cbee4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fish Lake, seen from the wrong side of its outlet</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Missy had heard about a really cool campsite on the other side of the Fish Lake's outlet, so we walked across on the logs piled up at the creek's egress from the lake. And speaking of which, Fish Lake is the source of Fish Lake Creek and what were the odds of that amazing coincidence ever happening? At any rate, we did not find a really cool campsite but were nonetheless rewarded with a magnificent view of the lake reposing beneath its mountain friends and neighbors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBQxzg4qjshq5qtLaN9TwBZTBbIRC__Rz8VYpgqNmS1qtr6-70k0T_RwYM8TKo7-5SyGDlJaNC_pRjw929SjfAKjFJDHObjWldcS9LrD4W5Nh9QcYFFsnmZTCQeeTSXHheSbqcWo9VThL02joV7VaGOF8_DWxEc9kxuhred7VhvdOLAKm84VtKO-RSg/s6000/52377212760_489ac887a0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBQxzg4qjshq5qtLaN9TwBZTBbIRC__Rz8VYpgqNmS1qtr6-70k0T_RwYM8TKo7-5SyGDlJaNC_pRjw929SjfAKjFJDHObjWldcS9LrD4W5Nh9QcYFFsnmZTCQeeTSXHheSbqcWo9VThL02joV7VaGOF8_DWxEc9kxuhred7VhvdOLAKm84VtKO-RSg/s320/52377212760_489ac887a0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gift for the birthday girl</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At Fish Lake, while we lunched, we did engage in a bit of hijinkery. It was Missy's birthday and we all donned tin-foil cone hats and sang "Happy Birthday" before doing the four-mile downhill hike to the trailhead. At the trailhead, I caught a baby western racer snake and offered it to Missy as a birthday present. She politely declined, the snake crapped my hand, and those two things may be related.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeyTE-UXbuoxKRfn55tecIDd73QwgECcGrYr6ROGSGxQa_L3iRIkeJKk87r6eR2ycWd4TRBBCEvO4hi7dUHKAun8pm9mzGGFKia1QG-9BWV5ZtxqNyNtgBkOuMfkk3xkIps5aH7nXSsF-mSfHvg79CHpLZ_yDHNpw73chIUjqDwoE9vGLSUh4Qp2Lrg/s6000/52374755008_a445732073_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeyTE-UXbuoxKRfn55tecIDd73QwgECcGrYr6ROGSGxQa_L3iRIkeJKk87r6eR2ycWd4TRBBCEvO4hi7dUHKAun8pm9mzGGFKia1QG-9BWV5ZtxqNyNtgBkOuMfkk3xkIps5aH7nXSsF-mSfHvg79CHpLZ_yDHNpw73chIUjqDwoE9vGLSUh4Qp2Lrg/s320/52374755008_a445732073_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poison oak was easy to spot with its red leaves</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA81JH" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5218040554?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-09-18T19:15:08+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss3131" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5218040554" class="jss3132"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3133 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3134"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3135 jss3156 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3133">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0NF-2840, Oregon, USA43.0965446 -122.550629443.084008601962154 -122.56779553769532 43.109080598037849 -122.53346326230469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-31222989769455768682022-09-12T08:00:00.367-07:002023-01-24T09:51:58.308-08:00Upper Rogue River (Hamaker Meadow)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjKT0zSQiN9yU80oUXQBJKUBlGkmOolwRIXQM-LQpAuF8mIJiq-YBeqkibEj5dUd8vB3ThA5dEkVxXxdHdpPO-0hNk8sBI-b8pV5rwkVol5DlX5BjLVPk2sWu-Z5otDvTqcYSJ1Tf1QPrD_dVkNWRfpUzl7imZlUX94XAOCNBGGpCQARD4MKnQHPerw/s6000/52365732767_6b5a6ef71e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjKT0zSQiN9yU80oUXQBJKUBlGkmOolwRIXQM-LQpAuF8mIJiq-YBeqkibEj5dUd8vB3ThA5dEkVxXxdHdpPO-0hNk8sBI-b8pV5rwkVol5DlX5BjLVPk2sWu-Z5otDvTqcYSJ1Tf1QPrD_dVkNWRfpUzl7imZlUX94XAOCNBGGpCQARD4MKnQHPerw/s320/52365732767_6b5a6ef71e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I was cruising through the Internet the other evening and came across a boastful blurb stating the Siskiyou Mountain Club had cleared the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recreation/hiking/recarea/?recid=69944&actid=50" target="_blank">Upper Rogue River Trail (URRT)</a> to Rough Rider Falls. Whoops of joy then filled the exalted air of my man cave, for several years ago I had tried to hike to the cascade but had been thoroughly repelled by tonnages of fallen trees laying across the trail. As an added degree of excitement on that particular hike, I also had a close encounter with a mama bear and her two cubs when returning from said piles of fallen trees. Rough Rider Falls wasn't very user-friendly to me that day but since the trail allegedly had been cleared of piles of fallen trees (and hopefully of bears, too), it was time for another attempt to reach the ever so elusive Rough Rider Falls. </div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDMRKk0MHIUUZ4FcjVHkyNBDVcAjkbpzab3dYWau6pZsN7mIrRWfXVPBgN01ErvrYMYAB6hZDVlTc8eKM_ZeY4fa54nM8J1qgu2A5WD_wh4t49qw35tr4eg4LUBLRHH-IHpkHztNElVG9D9bU8g8jNq79E6Xq5HJm4HEeOfcXEjm-FrvJn3OTmRZA3g/s6000/52366892078_709d6a3f47_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDMRKk0MHIUUZ4FcjVHkyNBDVcAjkbpzab3dYWau6pZsN7mIrRWfXVPBgN01ErvrYMYAB6hZDVlTc8eKM_ZeY4fa54nM8J1qgu2A5WD_wh4t49qw35tr4eg4LUBLRHH-IHpkHztNElVG9D9bU8g8jNq79E6Xq5HJm4HEeOfcXEjm-FrvJn3OTmRZA3g/s320/52366892078_709d6a3f47_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just beautiful weather for hiking in</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was a perfect day for hiking this more recent time out. The sun made an appearance but the temperature remained mild, part of a recent cool-weather trend that was hopefully aiding and abetting the fire crews doing battle with the Cedar Creek Fire. That in turn, might also hopefully ease the smoke befouling the air in the McKenzie and Umpqua Valleys. At any rate, I was happy to be out hiking in cooler weather.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr85THXwCNHBg-106wzUG8JP0lMplvD78WtTtUSaT19_6-3_2mo_Imb3E9qfi1GR8m_ba_n6QFcb-bBt7m-8zvOlMb5z8BBQFaqw0Yc_paibMkRBxlt6YG9P6D4poIGF3uNKNMpOaZ1--JmlCQr9Us9Lzp7NunPZA4go1UIhTfVrx14VEqQZXUHdQFeg/s6000/52367101465_e0db7f807e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr85THXwCNHBg-106wzUG8JP0lMplvD78WtTtUSaT19_6-3_2mo_Imb3E9qfi1GR8m_ba_n6QFcb-bBt7m-8zvOlMb5z8BBQFaqw0Yc_paibMkRBxlt6YG9P6D4poIGF3uNKNMpOaZ1--JmlCQr9Us9Lzp7NunPZA4go1UIhTfVrx14VEqQZXUHdQFeg/s320/52367101465_e0db7f807e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got plenty of quality forest time in</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Beginning from <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recreation/hiking/recarea/?recid=69952&actid=50" target="_blank">the trailhead</a>, the path wandered north on an up and down route next to the Rogue River. Sometimes above the river on a forested bench, sometimes down in the riverside brush, the trail clearly could not make up its mind as whether to stay high or low. My legs appreciated the mild exercise though, as the ups were not all that challenging or daunting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD7MzrRHzpgK6KzBS61O1rSeRTs3kngb4NW2P-ve8pbS9hcd-Ql30xgHsZKI1gvnUblWksDHvoozwcdY_XzjtbtodoAVuN-VNR_gsTMJXJ_4GbwrZfoTXcEkoenZxcF_6n1y9GVYu-f6suyjX9DwtaaXIYtgu6dSSwGyt3KxdxGANNAREe1ZNuLEGBgg/s6000/52366896638_8708b4ee90_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD7MzrRHzpgK6KzBS61O1rSeRTs3kngb4NW2P-ve8pbS9hcd-Ql30xgHsZKI1gvnUblWksDHvoozwcdY_XzjtbtodoAVuN-VNR_gsTMJXJ_4GbwrZfoTXcEkoenZxcF_6n1y9GVYu-f6suyjX9DwtaaXIYtgu6dSSwGyt3KxdxGANNAREe1ZNuLEGBgg/s320/52366896638_8708b4ee90_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The river is amazingly clear</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When the trail ambled down by the river, the water was remarkably clear, which stood to reason seeing as how we (my imaginary friend and I) were only about five miles from Boundary Springs, the fountainhead of the mighty Rogue. Occasionally, green meadows were spotted on the other side of the river. I say occasionally, for the brush and forest really made it hard to see down to the river in the first place, much less to any surrounding landscape or meadows.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFU5JDGuNQyhtTOkc8buvYbflIS6a5iaL6woZFNhNXjOW9Sg0h5BwQM-h0DNHtvKnYy5p8zjbcjCpzeT-2OXsHqR13UGTBMpo7-P1KXbMJu2p6XxIYQFc3sdxqRd1FesaJ864bdP84-R1y0w8-MbR7f-QmMX1iVDEvRrA5EUBtKrjRHLM4bT6zfjGeg/s5682/52365729387_c641544bb2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3788" data-original-width="5682" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFU5JDGuNQyhtTOkc8buvYbflIS6a5iaL6woZFNhNXjOW9Sg0h5BwQM-h0DNHtvKnYy5p8zjbcjCpzeT-2OXsHqR13UGTBMpo7-P1KXbMJu2p6XxIYQFc3sdxqRd1FesaJ864bdP84-R1y0w8-MbR7f-QmMX1iVDEvRrA5EUBtKrjRHLM4bT6zfjGeg/s320/52365729387_c641544bb2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No-Name Falls labors in anonymity </td></tr></tbody></table><br />About a mile into the hike, a roar emanating from the river announced the presence of No-Name Falls. Officially, the cascade does not have a name but is referred to by regulars as No-Name Falls, which is almost like a name. I scrambled down to the cascade for a better look and spent a few minutes simply appreciating the sight and might of the Rogue River rumbling and tumbling down the cascade's narrow chute.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbCoFZ1vv94eSPFH8sWuv9iSpEYV4ma5J640VqX_xlSZhAFxKi45LqzLp0pj2JEMguW58vicbEEHtCbfI3e4BKO9vjuUQimurtmfz2DIVTQIXQf4VRWRXbDAF1XJUK3oJR_cxA3cVv1hKkhFLBIJsKISsFUUPuOOOyWFXwynzq9gtaR9KO1u2Rwg7Og/s5904/52371865198_de670aafe5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3936" data-original-width="5904" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbCoFZ1vv94eSPFH8sWuv9iSpEYV4ma5J640VqX_xlSZhAFxKi45LqzLp0pj2JEMguW58vicbEEHtCbfI3e4BKO9vjuUQimurtmfz2DIVTQIXQf4VRWRXbDAF1XJUK3oJR_cxA3cVv1hKkhFLBIJsKISsFUUPuOOOyWFXwynzq9gtaR9KO1u2Rwg7Og/s320/52371865198_de670aafe5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At times, the trail went sketchy on me</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Despite the claim that the trail had been maintained, signs of trail love were in short supply. The track was littered with small branches and storm debris and where the vegetative growth was vigorous and robust, the trail was faint and a little hard to follow, especially where knee-high bracken fern encroached the trail. Unless an intervention soon occurs, the ferns will win out and claim the trail wholly for themselves.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmh3w0iT7Ezfa9M-XAF3ee9VwEinc3Ne_0Cy4-UCna8xNVpMMvtiuPpIBamQFXYmbH0OmTSKL75uO1hktZa-_SS3b5B2eAxVwhRUZikpan790e2W_d3UzEUlj9U-hT9KhoxsCRYfsE45tWDTjELfzvbI4GVSp_3SwBj7Cg9lEnx-XX6FsQR2X70pAEg/s6000/52371862618_4b0f7baed3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmh3w0iT7Ezfa9M-XAF3ee9VwEinc3Ne_0Cy4-UCna8xNVpMMvtiuPpIBamQFXYmbH0OmTSKL75uO1hktZa-_SS3b5B2eAxVwhRUZikpan790e2W_d3UzEUlj9U-hT9KhoxsCRYfsE45tWDTjELfzvbI4GVSp_3SwBj7Cg9lEnx-XX6FsQR2X70pAEg/s320/52371862618_4b0f7baed3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time to admit defeat, again</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Just short of three miles of hiking fun, a large tree lay across the trail. I swear it was the same tree from when I had hiked this trail several years ago. And sure enough, then there was another fallen tree sprawling on the trail much like an somnolent guest at a Nyquil convention. And then there was another fallen tree, and another, and another, etc. I literally crawled under or over the first eight or ten to get by but when a large Empire State Building of logs blocked further progress north, it was deja vu all over again. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5lwNnuZLFF62q39865KSoi-FY3Uj-zCot4OAIrFXNizUOfZ4X-lfXspPYM4ShfbEfxTndaOIJqqnos9NjXAZEFmF_Wpdchc3_k3CAUrTVM6sP4v5nkL-pGfz5mFA0mwVGRELdcP83K0I82yuurOlAI8woF5uvTAAno4yUS6Dvg9s77lsXabQfJe6Ag/s6000/52371851153_573cc44ce0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5lwNnuZLFF62q39865KSoi-FY3Uj-zCot4OAIrFXNizUOfZ4X-lfXspPYM4ShfbEfxTndaOIJqqnos9NjXAZEFmF_Wpdchc3_k3CAUrTVM6sP4v5nkL-pGfz5mFA0mwVGRELdcP83K0I82yuurOlAI8woF5uvTAAno4yUS6Dvg9s77lsXabQfJe6Ag/s320/52371851153_573cc44ce0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunlight slants through the forest in the afternoon</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Soundly defeated, it was a turnaround hike back to the trailhead where I then crossed Forest Road 6530 and picked up the resumption of the Upper Rogue River Trail heading south. This section of the URRT had its tree issues too, but there were none as formidable as the daunting piles blocking the way to Roughrider Falls, and I was able to make acceptable progress along the trail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CL0tgHLOpeIlwtEWPh8xxzOV9UV3yWOlr8BABbreHHZfZbkmdGTBrIVwxesmWyC-WzYCmXKD3muNLVFuFCb7snENcpBOoDE9ZoEaQjQzg1fyxWTMdZyFANyxJtZeGdZc1kAynrbCzfuYCctAtUhntCTlBSN5a1jf4ZkXxaiETg7hhUsJaDjbLFIykQ/s6000/52373149986_1cf939aaf4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CL0tgHLOpeIlwtEWPh8xxzOV9UV3yWOlr8BABbreHHZfZbkmdGTBrIVwxesmWyC-WzYCmXKD3muNLVFuFCb7snENcpBOoDE9ZoEaQjQzg1fyxWTMdZyFANyxJtZeGdZc1kAynrbCzfuYCctAtUhntCTlBSN5a1jf4ZkXxaiETg7hhUsJaDjbLFIykQ/s320/52373149986_1cf939aaf4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A brief glimpse of very large Hamaker Meadows</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Basically, the route contoured along the edge of massive Hamaker Meadows, although it was hard to tell as the path stayed in mostly viewless forest above the meadows. Periodic openings in the forest provided brief peeks at the grassy expanse below and on one occasion, I bushwhacked down into the meadows proper. It didn't take long for boots to start sinking into the boggy soil so I didn't get all that far into the scenic greenery reposing below forested Hamaker Butte. After a mile and a half contouring above Hamaker Meadows, the trail crossed the river on a stout footbridge at Hamaker Camp and that was my cue to turn around and leave all things Hamaker behind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlUAnmFmmXUuRj51kYlMu_0gS1ptrha-IC8gSpbhjz8AphSw8ccacx868vWuC1XTqfViPvfc3CP0GtekxPW7e3ICZFFp1_zcGUjKNMaFhYv1bF10827zqej0a5TL9NHUvf7Ywyhk_g3V2II7NGHeqWLD4szv2hl6gd4zZHd5sDoG3byXfGdpcsMsYYw/s6000/52373372088_2a9802b82b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlUAnmFmmXUuRj51kYlMu_0gS1ptrha-IC8gSpbhjz8AphSw8ccacx868vWuC1XTqfViPvfc3CP0GtekxPW7e3ICZFFp1_zcGUjKNMaFhYv1bF10827zqej0a5TL9NHUvf7Ywyhk_g3V2II7NGHeqWLD4szv2hl6gd4zZHd5sDoG3byXfGdpcsMsYYw/s320/52373372088_2a9802b82b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rogue kept me company throughout the day</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Even when you don't reach your destination, it's still a good hike and this venture was no exception. I got to spend all day in beautiful forest with a clear-running river flowing below the trail and there's nothing wrong with that at all, especially when there's no scary bear encounter involved. However, Roughrider Falls still remains as elusive as ever and my next plan to get there will involve hiking the Upper Rogue River Trail from the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=69948" target="_blank">Crater Rim Trailhead</a>. We'll see if I'll be more successful or not.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1LTLdV71NVNPjQRVKimadVjm2T0ncdPbIaRHh-y86urLRbMERHJqBmwFnMIp7LvkbehAMOXg3Hu4bZwvZS1fMFX1tBXzOP5geqX5rTUYf8ezf47yCG9qGcKJk_oJwnU3zGk7TNzhPcsEGZ5x0n8fNB0c2jAFJ-TKa6e5EkLRFISpAKWGobWSeRdXug/s5823/52373454044_f6284d63f2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3882" data-original-width="5823" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1LTLdV71NVNPjQRVKimadVjm2T0ncdPbIaRHh-y86urLRbMERHJqBmwFnMIp7LvkbehAMOXg3Hu4bZwvZS1fMFX1tBXzOP5geqX5rTUYf8ezf47yCG9qGcKJk_oJwnU3zGk7TNzhPcsEGZ5x0n8fNB0c2jAFJ-TKa6e5EkLRFISpAKWGobWSeRdXug/s320/52373454044_f6284d63f2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hamaker Meadows, from Hamaker Camp</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA7st7" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p> <iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5215220299?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-09-17T03:25:23+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss3683" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5215220299" class="jss3684"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3685 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3686"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3687 jss3708 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3685">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Upper Rogue River Trail Trailhead, Oregon 43.0652427 -122.32479343.058972174578109 -122.33337606884766 43.071513225421889 -122.31620993115234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-1783545957275558832022-09-10T08:00:00.406-07:002023-01-09T14:33:39.812-08:00Lola Lake Loop (Oregon Coast Trail)<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEippbzwzr6bHHJJXhIl9L8g2PK2YSg7CzGee63moxU0m00Sh6tqCDraPQPoqW1q0KyZOOaP_9Cu7RngfxK4gkOYYQZQQaCrdgqdo4AYkftXLqErQE7zlCkZZv0ijxkciLPkWfuAZi4U7bejT-82szlGRQ_xv34AMD5d1cFI618tNBZVh30vXfZ5YroRIA/s5793/52359891241_97001425dd_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3862" data-original-width="5793" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEippbzwzr6bHHJJXhIl9L8g2PK2YSg7CzGee63moxU0m00Sh6tqCDraPQPoqW1q0KyZOOaP_9Cu7RngfxK4gkOYYQZQQaCrdgqdo4AYkftXLqErQE7zlCkZZv0ijxkciLPkWfuAZi4U7bejT-82szlGRQ_xv34AMD5d1cFI618tNBZVh30vXfZ5YroRIA/s320/52359891241_97001425dd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br />Because Facebook knows everything about me, on my feed I received a blurb about a coastal birding club (it may have been the Audubon Society) going on a short 2.5 mile nature walk around <a href="https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/oregon/lola-lake-trail" target="_blank">Lola Lake</a>, located somewhere on the coast near Pistol River. They may have even called it a hike. Anyway, I'm all like "Birds? Meh!" followed by "NEW TRAIL!!!" After a short investigatory consult with the Internet, I ascertained that it was possible to reach the beach from Lola Lake, and thereby accrue a more proper hike mileage by walking north to the mouth of the Pistol River. A</span><span style="text-align: left;">t that point, </span><span style="text-align: left;">I was all in.</span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikkStqEaa_27VdFkj9Q38rpqz6aeiGHj318ComDFGnVlDBnrIjA17y3oNQNWqYAweV-838gDD53X0ofybXAkygYgrp1gYHSAII_elr8cEMNIxfo8ENe5xq0Yh_vdvhk0aUiS-Gt4V9bo-lsUKtJcepKc_EmVLWpsHAo8gy4MeKS3aijYMO0brHz6vcMg/s5451/52357772313_9e6246b8a3_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3634" data-original-width="5451" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikkStqEaa_27VdFkj9Q38rpqz6aeiGHj318ComDFGnVlDBnrIjA17y3oNQNWqYAweV-838gDD53X0ofybXAkygYgrp1gYHSAII_elr8cEMNIxfo8ENe5xq0Yh_vdvhk0aUiS-Gt4V9bo-lsUKtJcepKc_EmVLWpsHAo8gy4MeKS3aijYMO0brHz6vcMg/s320/52357772313_9e6246b8a3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You need to keep an eye out for this guy to find the trailhead</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trailhead was not that easy to find, and I initially drove past without realizing it. Coming back the other way, though, a post with a blue O<a href="https://stateparks.oregon.gov/ckFiles/files/OCT-Map-10.pdf" target="_blank">regon Coast Trail</a> marker affixed to it was clearly visible by the side of the roadway and in short order, I found myself hurriedly lacing up my boots at the trailhead, eager to get started.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv627OXfRJuLNvDljJxz8TXN7jNpblE7PWx5kP-zir0VxBz0tR3JYTQTPGWQTSRyQNkcxhiXbbIwemPjWThaInTeihvXhyFbiOCtVtsb_tFck_JwIlA8n2Ltl60TQGWpqV8JD2a7NtJfZkPomDMRk_4buuM4Erxc19bh4P91wUrBe1FcnYcXy6QCFnzA/s6000/52357526646_38b43e9500_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv627OXfRJuLNvDljJxz8TXN7jNpblE7PWx5kP-zir0VxBz0tR3JYTQTPGWQTSRyQNkcxhiXbbIwemPjWThaInTeihvXhyFbiOCtVtsb_tFck_JwIlA8n2Ltl60TQGWpqV8JD2a7NtJfZkPomDMRk_4buuM4Erxc19bh4P91wUrBe1FcnYcXy6QCFnzA/s320/52357526646_38b43e9500_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A well-maintained path wanders through the forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Oregon Coast Trail quickly left the busy highway behind, dipping into a typical lush and shady coastal forest. My initial impression was how nicely maintained the trail was. The brush had been cut back from the trail, there were no fallen trees to step over, and clearly legible and informative signs were posted at every intersection. I'm so not used to this!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWITfdGRVjlhsnpbk45GN-PrvBWS4HRWqlDaHa-VZ-rjuwrv8uA-QHQ4WX2oNFUC-T09LRsflyaJlOFXzX51EkCbIBF-F9NbmN1xwQS1iCab6N1hTigxZKMsvMvSQVC10kOAak0Ge6nFljKYgq110hpTZosQcjst-2sNTXCfnXVC4_uv-5BVpLhyOvw/s6000/52357526236_7748fc091d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWITfdGRVjlhsnpbk45GN-PrvBWS4HRWqlDaHa-VZ-rjuwrv8uA-QHQ4WX2oNFUC-T09LRsflyaJlOFXzX51EkCbIBF-F9NbmN1xwQS1iCab6N1hTigxZKMsvMvSQVC10kOAak0Ge6nFljKYgq110hpTZosQcjst-2sNTXCfnXVC4_uv-5BVpLhyOvw/s320/52357526236_7748fc091d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wintergreen was clearly in blooming season</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first intersection offered the choice of hiking to the beach or looping around Lola Lake. Since I'd never been, Lola Lake it was. The forest on the loop trail was heavily mossed and a healthy population of ankle-high wintergreen was busy flowering on the forest floor, enthusiastically hoisting aloft stalks of white flowers like so many football fans waving their pennants. Mushrooms, ferns, and moss likewise abounded, feasting on the decaying biomass so prevalent in a coastal forest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfb3OIdT26dn0AJn872Z3AuZ3N0zgnBTxoL_WlSbXqt4b4CHwQ-_kfQ8dBh8Rnt-hG_fe_c9SfB5UxijARueDzJVc4ZV4lRi0lr77mrLLdTpHRo8d0rD_as-XdrCZ8hI7GQKXRc25TETHw9kAt7qfpHg58PT7ykOablc_K50BBoSAnJoLORmPgDhtjw/s6000/52358940717_90b17175b4_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfb3OIdT26dn0AJn872Z3AuZ3N0zgnBTxoL_WlSbXqt4b4CHwQ-_kfQ8dBh8Rnt-hG_fe_c9SfB5UxijARueDzJVc4ZV4lRi0lr77mrLLdTpHRo8d0rD_as-XdrCZ8hI7GQKXRc25TETHw9kAt7qfpHg58PT7ykOablc_K50BBoSAnJoLORmPgDhtjw/s320/52358940717_90b17175b4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lola Lake in all its grassy glory</td></tr></tbody></table><br />If Lola Lake were to be the sole reason for this hike, then I'd be bitterly disappointed. The lake had dried up and gone to meadow. Presumably, the lake is actually a lake when the spring rains fall but this late in summer, there wasn't any water. That wasn't a deal-breaker though, for the erstwhile lake still was a nice meadow and there's no complaining when you hike to a brand new place anyway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge63Tptc29GkVBCUVHL2LeepFkY4_fIYAzr2VTKfH8tlRA17C6G_cIPu__wJ5HyrsKN3Hy6H_VjXULlXfrHR0eNzUEHXEjguDuZVzZFtFK-I6M_OwNa_R9HyhRHzRDljLvFBJCeRKcbuPBxp4C9iLPDiiu2xVgGV61hPZtklccLMHfESe48a94QWcAVQ/s6000/52360307090_ff8a03715c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge63Tptc29GkVBCUVHL2LeepFkY4_fIYAzr2VTKfH8tlRA17C6G_cIPu__wJ5HyrsKN3Hy6H_VjXULlXfrHR0eNzUEHXEjguDuZVzZFtFK-I6M_OwNa_R9HyhRHzRDljLvFBJCeRKcbuPBxp4C9iLPDiiu2xVgGV61hPZtklccLMHfESe48a94QWcAVQ/s320/52360307090_ff8a03715c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail begins to transition from woods to dunes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After executing the lake loop, it was then a right turn onto the beach trail which continued the wander through dense coastal woods. Eventually though, the dirt path became a sandy track and the trees thinned out, giving way to beachgrass and dunes. Common yarrow and pearly everlasting were in bloom among the omnipresent beachgrass, the wildflowers busily entertaining bees, butterflies, small wasps, and incredibly handsome hikers-cum-photographers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMu0qPtT0LlURcvhl1Z0yC41vpEyfLwaKy_4GFzZ3Thf4JLSJIHKhCIf66T-StMy5jgmDKQbemhrBmd9CLDHDJJpVY17E6NuDKH8a5n32wWPnd0XGZbScjsjgukl0imw9D38hc6iX-rkudoWbQ5Z9_BJBJ5xoLacvQXtEdmChM-waPuWyySzGZbL5Cng/s5937/52358928997_20ecd30916_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3958" data-original-width="5937" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMu0qPtT0LlURcvhl1Z0yC41vpEyfLwaKy_4GFzZ3Thf4JLSJIHKhCIf66T-StMy5jgmDKQbemhrBmd9CLDHDJJpVY17E6NuDKH8a5n32wWPnd0XGZbScjsjgukl0imw9D38hc6iX-rkudoWbQ5Z9_BJBJ5xoLacvQXtEdmChM-waPuWyySzGZbL5Cng/s320/52358928997_20ecd30916_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View to distant Cape Sebastian</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Odd and totally out of place amid the sand and beachgrass was a large castle-like rock formation. The rock was adorned with striations and layers of tan and ocher hues and tints. A short scramble to the tip of the rock yielded a view to distant Cape Sebastian so I had to stop for a bit and do some photography before continuing on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnALyZS_KnyN3BbfkM-QKGtisJ50nP9ZfFzcMI9UvwXDMy-vNYcFPFys5N0y7cy7TYFUF1pFoS-CqdHaGJmcJs5G5L6sMK-e1zzd492JjwngpRwsHyTEvRt2CybWZWFQWObpYl5ebctSsiUKCK9pTOoDsF6BjQFX8vvaVT9BXsJhhg1tKvVWnrNhcS_Q/s5946/52360300520_04c74ddc26_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3964" data-original-width="5946" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnALyZS_KnyN3BbfkM-QKGtisJ50nP9ZfFzcMI9UvwXDMy-vNYcFPFys5N0y7cy7TYFUF1pFoS-CqdHaGJmcJs5G5L6sMK-e1zzd492JjwngpRwsHyTEvRt2CybWZWFQWObpYl5ebctSsiUKCK9pTOoDsF6BjQFX8vvaVT9BXsJhhg1tKvVWnrNhcS_Q/s320/52360300520_04c74ddc26_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand Creek snakes across the sand</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail reached the beach just north of Crook Point, whose rocks and islands are an effective deterrent to hiking further south via beach. Sand Creek snaked out of the grassy dunes to sassily sashay across the beach to become one with the ocean. The surf crashing onto the craggy rocks of the scenic point entertained and to the north, stretched a long beach with Cape Sebastian looming many miles beyond.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhxlszitpHXgJT6USy_B4nXW6xpiUW6e6BQ1p_bggyAc67d9gVRHLDuSw6zXM7xxqU_m1yIaXU-j8yJleRJMaLiK0YfdaG3H0Eh27Dy4G-q8vrycetiWsYvhyFbIvnczVuWWzQZQSys70O7zQoRnQVcg1RJbO7jbQv0vYUEYa34ypfmGn-q2BIGk08w/s8748/52361918381_a8a09d7c89_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3766" data-original-width="8748" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhxlszitpHXgJT6USy_B4nXW6xpiUW6e6BQ1p_bggyAc67d9gVRHLDuSw6zXM7xxqU_m1yIaXU-j8yJleRJMaLiK0YfdaG3H0Eh27Dy4G-q8vrycetiWsYvhyFbIvnczVuWWzQZQSys70O7zQoRnQVcg1RJbO7jbQv0vYUEYa34ypfmGn-q2BIGk08w/s320/52361918381_a8a09d7c89_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View to the north</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I never made it to Pistol River like I had intended. Unfortunately, the wind could be best characterized as belligerent, bellicose, and brawly. I'd venture to guess that I was getting cuffed about by a steady 40 miles-per-hour blow. The stiff breeze peeled spindrifts off the incoming waves and I felt fortunate it was blowing at my back. However, at some point on the return, I'd be hiking into it, my incredibly handsome face bearing the brunt of the wind-driven sand. The question was whether I wanted to endure Mother Nature's free dermabrasion and exfoliation treatment for 2.5 miles, 1 mile, or some distance in between. I eventually chose to turn around after a mere mile of beach walking.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_6PSZDK1t8YYBFTne2HaD-mUs9BkZCS4CKkGEYsQCNJgvDF_FyA3kxBq3CjKD25Nz_IPHv6u52WKFrnLOoanS-3v0P0MpIjVUFMTdO75SA5-MGNDLf58ovVpb8nL8pV0WFV94p58k09LFElDopTqVGa-8wcItoNYhtlzvixBIRVrYndaymis8oj5YQ/s5664/52362146223_42c509e4a6_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3776" data-original-width="5664" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_6PSZDK1t8YYBFTne2HaD-mUs9BkZCS4CKkGEYsQCNJgvDF_FyA3kxBq3CjKD25Nz_IPHv6u52WKFrnLOoanS-3v0P0MpIjVUFMTdO75SA5-MGNDLf58ovVpb8nL8pV0WFV94p58k09LFElDopTqVGa-8wcItoNYhtlzvixBIRVrYndaymis8oj5YQ/s320/52362146223_42c509e4a6_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An incoming wave wants to eat me</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As anticipated, it was a stinging and bracing walk back to Crook Point with eyes all teary, but on the plus side, I don't have acne anymore if only because you can't have acne without having facial skin. Needless to say, it was much appreciated when the trail left the beach and entered the sheltering woods.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYL742QTsDlvVHyRifKvoXrTidd7_rVObqwiFwePDkCnTmU1WV3hl6mLl4imIWYXZanaWs-Iwy-aEVk024y5d29eh-Zz_tcnCQUnqgNNT2wxG1AAhjTYCwtoUkkJ3ivtm0xgHGIuIWtxFN7QEi20f41anRfFkUbcjw4Spf6k8IR96o4JdxNpx_Xz8oQ/s6000/52364435907_2134989ac1_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYL742QTsDlvVHyRifKvoXrTidd7_rVObqwiFwePDkCnTmU1WV3hl6mLl4imIWYXZanaWs-Iwy-aEVk024y5d29eh-Zz_tcnCQUnqgNNT2wxG1AAhjTYCwtoUkkJ3ivtm0xgHGIuIWtxFN7QEi20f41anRfFkUbcjw4Spf6k8IR96o4JdxNpx_Xz8oQ/s320/52364435907_2134989ac1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Low growing fleabane prettified the sand dunes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I really didn't any pay attention to any birds on his hike. In fact, I'm not even sure there were any birds for me to pay attention to. However, I'm nonetheless grateful to the birds for exciting the birding crowd to the point they put on the hike I had mentioned earlier. My first visit to this particular section of the Oregon coast would not have happened without the birds and birders. Happy squawks, chirps, and keening cries to all concerned.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ684j_FxKPixScEFlD3jP7gY4sskdqT-nTMPjB53wnk066f2pfShLm5pvUzLPMfaQFt83nIL56GGez7vWb6kSqyiNDBp_pLjeZVGk_dVWc2Z_P5OMuP0QwK71baRrXPL5lkIaZjU2-wNeog0HdxW_c3H85WI2rMkkWZBgEcoNRGeW_gRh7unInDFaDg/s5949/52362227339_6eb21a6f3c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3966" data-original-width="5949" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ684j_FxKPixScEFlD3jP7gY4sskdqT-nTMPjB53wnk066f2pfShLm5pvUzLPMfaQFt83nIL56GGez7vWb6kSqyiNDBp_pLjeZVGk_dVWc2Z_P5OMuP0QwK71baRrXPL5lkIaZjU2-wNeog0HdxW_c3H85WI2rMkkWZBgEcoNRGeW_gRh7unInDFaDg/s320/52362227339_6eb21a6f3c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Islands near Crook Point</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA76be" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.</p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5238793993?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-10-02T02:22:37+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss1501" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5238793993" class="jss1502"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss1503 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss1504"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss1505 jss1526 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss1503">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0at milepost 340.5 on hwy 23810 Oregon Coast Hwy Gold Beach, OR 9744442.253299 -124.396476742.240594588018084 -124.41364283769531 42.266003411981913 -124.37931056230468tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-86516583996255864062022-09-05T08:00:00.414-07:002023-01-05T19:18:37.771-08:00Red Cone Spring<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV0-qdccmBTW1X2AnwQ9XipmnDRJmp-wXJigITW93TIGIXGYHHTBKAJrmfU2XL6U8EzgVBe-1phJXa3Pe5p5xS__vPyTYUPtLXKpb5-afY2mwpPiQXUu3AcDlG5p6oezDE1NPtx0xWlOuDqrQIae4dnsNmyBAOVuPHc4oG17u9cmZZzavLGWJqY8i1w/s6000/52351258745_d5c7455c92_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV0-qdccmBTW1X2AnwQ9XipmnDRJmp-wXJigITW93TIGIXGYHHTBKAJrmfU2XL6U8EzgVBe-1phJXa3Pe5p5xS__vPyTYUPtLXKpb5-afY2mwpPiQXUu3AcDlG5p6oezDE1NPtx0xWlOuDqrQIae4dnsNmyBAOVuPHc4oG17u9cmZZzavLGWJqY8i1w/s320/52351258745_d5c7455c92_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Crater Lake is Oregon's one and only <a href="https://www.nps.gov/crla/index.htm" target="_blank">National Park</a>. The lake is awesome and visitors flock by the thousands to see the amazing sapphire color of the lake. But, to procure a viewing spot from the many crowded overlooks of the iconic landmark, you have to brandish pointed elbows and wield a sharp tongue. However, in the park's backcountry, you are not liable to see anyone and can best put your elbows, salty language, and dirty looks to better use.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4v6f9xicRsvgj7PhRq8TtLuXhrSrem80X6XYVQMy64HiBAZ-ECuVtfgKvfmXFGr3io9BTT33elVH_lJpQZsk2dsqsnZzQdz5lhG7-dJOoSikDIbJTNGIqK8MGIUVYXIH1tWx0PqnCtM2U4S6bBJUJ0N1NMJ_yQVG2T0ReFkC2AI9RRfVJyMqJRCAHA/s5898/52351256780_2689f37fd3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3932" data-original-width="5898" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4v6f9xicRsvgj7PhRq8TtLuXhrSrem80X6XYVQMy64HiBAZ-ECuVtfgKvfmXFGr3io9BTT33elVH_lJpQZsk2dsqsnZzQdz5lhG7-dJOoSikDIbJTNGIqK8MGIUVYXIH1tWx0PqnCtM2U4S6bBJUJ0N1NMJ_yQVG2T0ReFkC2AI9RRfVJyMqJRCAHA/s320/52351256780_2689f37fd3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A forest mix of live and dead trees</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I am particularly fond of the section of the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/crla/planyourvisit/hiking.htm" target="_blank">Pacific Crest Trail</a> that bends north and east through the northwest corner of the park. Here, the terrain is harsh because the soil is comprised of nutrient-poor pumice and volcanic ash. Water doesn't collect above ground, seeping instead into the dusty soil so the whole feel of the terrain is dry, dusty, and arid. Lodgepole pine thrives in poor soils but here, the trees are stressed by a lodgepole beetle infestation, and plenty of dead trees abounded near the trailhead.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlLBuEqr4o_Mq6YEkYwdkbeXZLpywG9S23DWSanErYqOoNrvQjPv1Bh9pUdSjQ7neJpCT5L9poSGhcwAI9hGOgQunbSG7Z9DUEHG9uAfaGoZUDpH7rX2F93UF0JikGK8R9wIjXvLobDcGC70DnnzQyqU1eKJZqj3SjThTG2qFe6d3vVYosmryqcX8Iw/s6000/52356344178_f051286929_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlLBuEqr4o_Mq6YEkYwdkbeXZLpywG9S23DWSanErYqOoNrvQjPv1Bh9pUdSjQ7neJpCT5L9poSGhcwAI9hGOgQunbSG7Z9DUEHG9uAfaGoZUDpH7rX2F93UF0JikGK8R9wIjXvLobDcGC70DnnzQyqU1eKJZqj3SjThTG2qFe6d3vVYosmryqcX8Iw/s320/52356344178_f051286929_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the burnt wood you could ever want to photograph</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we (Cleve and I) commenced hiking, Red Cone rose up in front of us like a volcanic angry red zit. Our route would basically buttonhook around to the other side of the notable cinder cone, where we'd then turn back at Red Cone Spring. The area had been burned in 2017 by either the National Creek Fire or Spruce Lake Fire, which were each part and parcel of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_Cascades_Complex_fires" target="_blank">High Cascades Complex Fires</a>. The name of the exact culprit doesn't matter, but what does matter is that most of the hike would be in the burn zone of whichever fire it was.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtK3myL4FhHe6--JosjrgW1RdQEnoiCfy89a0e16KIurHFLE32K_pDDmWWKzMjQWj2T500pfO1vJIMfBIZnyrVKb-t9zO09vwtUuwmi8wqO0VbnFertajEU984gjx4Iv8yyl-m5qVLtZcJb3UruC39zy9Ac85lXkQmTV1BoyyucmANgc-HJfM7o_QHw/s6000/52349877877_ff7d14eb47_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtK3myL4FhHe6--JosjrgW1RdQEnoiCfy89a0e16KIurHFLE32K_pDDmWWKzMjQWj2T500pfO1vJIMfBIZnyrVKb-t9zO09vwtUuwmi8wqO0VbnFertajEU984gjx4Iv8yyl-m5qVLtZcJb3UruC39zy9Ac85lXkQmTV1BoyyucmANgc-HJfM7o_QHw/s320/52349877877_ff7d14eb47_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We enjoyed hiking though a a brief<br />patch of forest untouched by fire</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is one section of trail that goes through a green forest untouched by either fire or beetle, providing a poignant look at what a healthy lodgepole forest could look like. The shade felt nice too, particularly as the forecast called for a fairly warm day. As an added bonus, the trail angled gently downhill through the shady forest, although we'd experience the opposite effect on the return leg.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVHi90J_Ik8PC6yqaPTGFh0NepXs3r2YkwqFXHuit-r9Ei6_KUlmAGxfuVr4aS4WdyzhExVCVv9Y3dTZpY2AG1RxzvpJDK-WevN1FleMcVGO50NTScGUmN-gvHTbdjPRFiEsbJ5KFwMMfzMqHnMrAQ-yvv2lFr0tCCEx_tMEumalJZbzGQBocyse6Mw/s6000/52354833431_d1334d2497_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVHi90J_Ik8PC6yqaPTGFh0NepXs3r2YkwqFXHuit-r9Ei6_KUlmAGxfuVr4aS4WdyzhExVCVv9Y3dTZpY2AG1RxzvpJDK-WevN1FleMcVGO50NTScGUmN-gvHTbdjPRFiEsbJ5KFwMMfzMqHnMrAQ-yvv2lFr0tCCEx_tMEumalJZbzGQBocyse6Mw/s320/52354833431_d1334d2497_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ancestors kept watch over us</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The fire boundary is quite abrupt, for one second we were in dark and shady forest, and the next instance we were blinking myopically in the bright sunlight like a pair of exposed cave crickets. Virtually no trees had survived the conflagration here, and miles and miles of ghostly white snags stood watch in cadaver-like testament to the fire's ferocity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM72llBF_pW5R_kDZe4NLwZqkmrOoZmyTMR_TRsBDpA4wXB843ZYmiEf8ffkcab_VA7HHWVi2GDXD2J1OZ2Ai35qU9jMTwToh0ucqT14icIJLw_8AwI6e6G4wm8E1F_80olRUuJTkX6CaKu1T-WdQWsV0eGivjVe6SFRP2DZcvesIwnGFeeeQONpUxIQ/s5783/52353887467_ee4d101ec0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3855" data-original-width="5783" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM72llBF_pW5R_kDZe4NLwZqkmrOoZmyTMR_TRsBDpA4wXB843ZYmiEf8ffkcab_VA7HHWVi2GDXD2J1OZ2Ai35qU9jMTwToh0ucqT14icIJLw_8AwI6e6G4wm8E1F_80olRUuJTkX6CaKu1T-WdQWsV0eGivjVe6SFRP2DZcvesIwnGFeeeQONpUxIQ/s320/52353887467_ee4d101ec0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late summer is pussypaw season, apparently<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />However, life finds a way and the terrain was carpeted by a thin green layer of sedge grass forming new meadows amongst the dead trees. Rabbitbrush, pussypaws, aster, and fireweed were still blooming away in late summer and bees and butterflies were buzzing or flitting from flower to flower. Small birds twittered and flittered and woodpeckers could be heard hammering tree trunks in search of insects and grubs to eat. There were plenty of scuff marks on the ground from the hooves of either deer or elk and we came across one dubious wet spot on the trail, left not too long before our arrival, courtesy of some mammal of the non-hiker variety that had a full bladder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZH-FujzAQSDj0NYwHD9gVqlcULjzqRabo-ts6KCbxPVDQTHKSvdUHZOcfVpPWTsQVpawLlys5pYSYveCZad4pCqYrkKSLx1fswAwpZacJzR_7mkFYT3uwd4z66dObOhshBghOf40z9lO0Ps939LWqGg07YCtkUy2Dc6OFF2vE9i-_kjptZhZjOQqcg/s5835/52355260335_f0a3859b9d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3890" data-original-width="5835" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZH-FujzAQSDj0NYwHD9gVqlcULjzqRabo-ts6KCbxPVDQTHKSvdUHZOcfVpPWTsQVpawLlys5pYSYveCZad4pCqYrkKSLx1fswAwpZacJzR_7mkFYT3uwd4z66dObOhshBghOf40z9lO0Ps939LWqGg07YCtkUy2Dc6OFF2vE9i-_kjptZhZjOQqcg/s320/52355260335_f0a3859b9d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We hike through beautifully stark scenery</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There were signs along the trail stating dispersed camping for backpackers was allowed, "dispersed" meaning there are no established campsites so you just camp wherever you can. However, camping was prohibited in the Red Cone Spring area because of the danger of falling trees. That made little sense to me because the whole trail was surrounded by dead trees but apparently it's ok if one falls on you as long as it's not at Red Cone Spring. Maybe they don't want your rotting carcass to foul up the spring water.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GGIrj0PTjJpkdhyIVcM3nwejfIynXAMwMaKT0I05J7rrWEfnRhLOc9JRrDKpBpN-VyHodrBFazESRXvGjQ-fnfRY7DMF6KNZkJT_k8eSnzVfRy5kIm2vI2JyhxpqtFs985SZr8XmZ1TzdGOZ1zipv4R0UM-ljJMt0MfPXgW9ZA7dsl4GldMFS1_snA/s6000/52353882302_84c29b0aee_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GGIrj0PTjJpkdhyIVcM3nwejfIynXAMwMaKT0I05J7rrWEfnRhLOc9JRrDKpBpN-VyHodrBFazESRXvGjQ-fnfRY7DMF6KNZkJT_k8eSnzVfRy5kIm2vI2JyhxpqtFs985SZr8XmZ1TzdGOZ1zipv4R0UM-ljJMt0MfPXgW9ZA7dsl4GldMFS1_snA/s320/52353882302_84c29b0aee_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A small slice of the ample meadows<br />surrounding Red Cone Spring</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Despite the closure, Cleve and I hiked to the spring and ate lunch there. The spring isn't all that much to look at but water is life and this was the only water source around for many a mile. The spring is surrounded by a large expanse of meadows (which you could safely camp in, just sayin') and the usual stands of dead trees. Small birds gathered en masse and the collective chirping was nigh cacophonous. However, the avian merriment soon changed to screams of alarm when a small peregrine falcon came swooping in, attempting to snag just one small bird for lunch. It failed to do so and in short order, it was just me, Cleve, and one hungry falcon at the suddenly quiet spring.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6Vy4xbFyI7-ezbakHk14IwCT8jz5Qp2OMnSUtx0a7I-3W5Tg6NKQu-6tf7E3l5msNMvKi3FZf7UuNmcwcWQ_-iCPD71_Ts7kyemTIO9QXEsMXNPImS9bVzJkIzJPDYuuSM9vI5yUzkHWrgkEs1zrGvz1Qgk9G5nnF04SZzcl3Y2EKBHBh1Ams63xxw/s6000/52356341633_aeba5458e4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6Vy4xbFyI7-ezbakHk14IwCT8jz5Qp2OMnSUtx0a7I-3W5Tg6NKQu-6tf7E3l5msNMvKi3FZf7UuNmcwcWQ_-iCPD71_Ts7kyemTIO9QXEsMXNPImS9bVzJkIzJPDYuuSM9vI5yUzkHWrgkEs1zrGvz1Qgk9G5nnF04SZzcl3Y2EKBHBh1Ams63xxw/s320/52356341633_aeba5458e4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woodpeckers and termites think<br />this is the best forest ever!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, back we went on the Pacific Crest Trail, as the day warmed up considerably. The good news was that for the most part, the trail was level so the hiking was not overly laborious. However, the trail did incline uphill over the last several miles at a gentle grade, the degree of difficulty being the soft pumice soil. Think hiking in sand and you get the idea. The hike may not have left a mark but we felt it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuFKYdTp3TvH7bodHGx1odItC5GAwoV5kt-WDs85gR_J2Gl_v0pf5DVewAtvH723pMbCRVk0Hrh5dpprbVCn7qr0LXq-spc9G01DMuqlZiVzH8JBb5e8RQ8H8BQqUWpeXfOYRw1RY-Qdy-RF1Nbx9W_qxvof1Ep0IjXyqx9EOdearfBpWMEQnIZEp6w/s6000/52356094256_430d78548f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuFKYdTp3TvH7bodHGx1odItC5GAwoV5kt-WDs85gR_J2Gl_v0pf5DVewAtvH723pMbCRVk0Hrh5dpprbVCn7qr0LXq-spc9G01DMuqlZiVzH8JBb5e8RQ8H8BQqUWpeXfOYRw1RY-Qdy-RF1Nbx9W_qxvof1Ep0IjXyqx9EOdearfBpWMEQnIZEp6w/s320/52356094256_430d78548f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pacific Crest Trail heads north to Canada</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This is one of my favorite hikes. Like me, the terrain is harsh yet beautiful. But mostly, it's quite different from the other regular normal hikes we do and its very uniqueness is the main attraction, in my view. Both Cleve and I were happy with the day's venture, especially after replenishing electrolytes with Gatorade (drink of the gods!) afterward.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7fdXO7ZaPR-JfvKnlx_RW6_EB8m8eInPRfxsPCmWbSI56vhh06gNf3DuS3D9OKyTvivexzTwUTbPUDxMMCSbIQH0DEenzMOYRXbuunD7Dzq0yN7l0iBhACoFWPCZ4gCh_LHio2RWOjJaA6bLoZeostxvfS6jEd-xwchl5z-z2_aCG4a4QlGOtDWnLg/s6000/52351148324_f53400021d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7fdXO7ZaPR-JfvKnlx_RW6_EB8m8eInPRfxsPCmWbSI56vhh06gNf3DuS3D9OKyTvivexzTwUTbPUDxMMCSbIQH0DEenzMOYRXbuunD7Dzq0yN7l0iBhACoFWPCZ4gCh_LHio2RWOjJaA6bLoZeostxvfS6jEd-xwchl5z-z2_aCG4a4QlGOtDWnLg/s320/52351148324_f53400021d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hole-some dead tree</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA6LC3" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="//snippets.mapmycdn.com/routes/view/embedded/3397672930?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E60f0bdb&rgbhex=DB0B0E&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&last_updated=2020-09-04T20:30:14-07:00" width="100%"></iframe><br />
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Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Pacific Crest Trail, Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway, Oregon 97604, USA42.9966903 -122.135532742.993551591134718 -122.13982423442383 42.999829008865277 -122.13124116557617tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-72045350869140635602022-08-20T08:00:00.549-07:002022-12-30T17:36:17.782-08:00Salt Creek Falls to Fall Creek Falls<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZrYYnqCZ1rku-L_ZE3n64aGnchaK-yNFX3gxU1Y51rr0EvAvKN2aY-_fWm1Tuk7v7bATMESG3OZz02AIk7MLF2AMI_-auhFQy2jpz2-u09EAQTz-JkprVVpeI5DHmMaHxTTVC6SB8xHpeSeYEldEvgk0C1gAVeA4406M-yY-BLWyR4ye-9g4ck1-0w/s5782/52325338195_2799751ddb_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5275" data-original-width="5782" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZrYYnqCZ1rku-L_ZE3n64aGnchaK-yNFX3gxU1Y51rr0EvAvKN2aY-_fWm1Tuk7v7bATMESG3OZz02AIk7MLF2AMI_-auhFQy2jpz2-u09EAQTz-JkprVVpeI5DHmMaHxTTVC6SB8xHpeSeYEldEvgk0C1gAVeA4406M-yY-BLWyR4ye-9g4ck1-0w/s320/52325338195_2799751ddb_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Salt Creek Falls is Oregon's second tallest waterfall, eclipsed only by iconic Multnomah Falls. Situated approximately halfway between Eugene and Bend, the falls receive a lot of visitors who generally take a very <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recarea/?recid=82005" target="_blank">short walk to a paved overlook</a>. However, there are two other falls in the area with actual trails that go to them and once you leave the viewing area, it's a quiet walk on a real trail with few people on it.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzz7XbdDVVZ1ilHSS76Lb3-EaFMSd40fZy6a82OVjoOovWaw5fDCqXxRV_rlLWCIcLGPxxk088F6Qwsj7A-fDhpMPUqT9FZA6PYsEVLpXiiAoKBBf-sVmrMjaN4iDCtTpTGVFZt7tZjsLH39S9NahiUQXnKdS2OZmpx2g1XWnVxjyHHCzNtkMKCZSIvA/s6000/52327512568_42db13b677_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzz7XbdDVVZ1ilHSS76Lb3-EaFMSd40fZy6a82OVjoOovWaw5fDCqXxRV_rlLWCIcLGPxxk088F6Qwsj7A-fDhpMPUqT9FZA6PYsEVLpXiiAoKBBf-sVmrMjaN4iDCtTpTGVFZt7tZjsLH39S9NahiUQXnKdS2OZmpx2g1XWnVxjyHHCzNtkMKCZSIvA/s320/52327512568_42db13b677_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mist and sun had a baby and called it "Rainbow"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the viewing platform, a <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recarea/?recid=4654" target="_blank">dirt trail takes hikers down for a closer look</a> at impressive Salt Creek Falls. The path does not go all the way down to creek level (unless you illegally hop the barrier and do the dangerous scramble down) but it was close enough for the eight of us to soak in the majesty and splendor of the falls. We also got to soak in the cool mist swirling off the cascade and admire the resultant rainbow spanning the Salt Creek's canyon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguooPONh7gc0B3obCzlhzzl7QVgWGlPJHvCUHO1B6gje436uJrXztCKjvi2VvhxgYqTsq8NF9Dz0TZx33lvbVNtCWdwh80GcGdZ4Vl4oGfQYooo221BUqDuS3W4qPXiqCFdIzZPwAnRxLxnDt4fuMOvNrw11MWQ9-EtYvcJz8IuBgYzeHpoYM5fsc0rA/s6000/52327557259_9ceda8ee27_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguooPONh7gc0B3obCzlhzzl7QVgWGlPJHvCUHO1B6gje436uJrXztCKjvi2VvhxgYqTsq8NF9Dz0TZx33lvbVNtCWdwh80GcGdZ4Vl4oGfQYooo221BUqDuS3W4qPXiqCFdIzZPwAnRxLxnDt4fuMOvNrw11MWQ9-EtYvcJz8IuBgYzeHpoYM5fsc0rA/s320/52327557259_9ceda8ee27_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The epitome of "rickety bridge"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There's no pavement in hiking, or so I've often said, but you do have to hike a paved path to a long and saggy wooden bridge spanning Salt Creek above the falls. <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recreation/recarea/?recid=4658" target="_blank">Diamond Creek Falls Trail</a> officially commences at the bridge and once we crossed the rickety span, we were off hiking through a lush forest on our way to Diamond Creek</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS4VD9W6OghHGhsHjNQN7fl19d06jD6j1nCQbyQknUz1E8rSY7tiLvpyqdZjKJtbpDyalHuzxZXbJkqWLuVtzkAVwrDirjOnk-yFc0gAlc56F-gUub_T5_e8OPh1XSYSc64I7hXUHgoRsZct2aADkGGqV3Y-cOiXG1rqmeGg1OvaB1aWoEsbFjvfatg/s6000/52328462642_6dde8d6c10_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS4VD9W6OghHGhsHjNQN7fl19d06jD6j1nCQbyQknUz1E8rSY7tiLvpyqdZjKJtbpDyalHuzxZXbJkqWLuVtzkAVwrDirjOnk-yFc0gAlc56F-gUub_T5_e8OPh1XSYSc64I7hXUHgoRsZct2aADkGGqV3Y-cOiXG1rqmeGg1OvaB1aWoEsbFjvfatg/s320/52328462642_6dde8d6c10_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One small facet of Diamond Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was a steady uphill slog to the path leading down to Diamond Creek Falls. The muddy track was steep and you had to watch your step. A complicating factor was a vertically oriented log with notches cut into it, serving as a rustic one-railed stairway. The cascade is what is termed a "fan waterfall" and I'm definitely a fan! However, "fan waterfall" probably has more to do with the way the creek delicately fanned out across the face of its cliff and less to do with any ardent admirer. In my modest but totally correct opinion, Diamond Creek Falls were the best of the waterfalls we'd visit today.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsAChCpo35PaD0g--YCHItGRU8hKScytikFudmpO41i9jAAQ7DtWKJN-O_UOySeLINq1JFlHKfHg9hgRSCa82PdUXWd0kw0GpzBnPcIVWZ-bR1_pcuDvQkoNGA-t-i6Yr731ba6rnavx4aPQXlg_goqVyGjhgUuHzZ2n9i385CTRQFhOAvyPLaLjRVLg/s6000/52334958646_900a00e112_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsAChCpo35PaD0g--YCHItGRU8hKScytikFudmpO41i9jAAQ7DtWKJN-O_UOySeLINq1JFlHKfHg9hgRSCa82PdUXWd0kw0GpzBnPcIVWZ-bR1_pcuDvQkoNGA-t-i6Yr731ba6rnavx4aPQXlg_goqVyGjhgUuHzZ2n9i385CTRQFhOAvyPLaLjRVLg/s320/52334958646_900a00e112_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The irony of crossing tracks in<br />order to enter a wilderness area</td></tr></tbody></table><br />If there's no pavement in hiking, then there probably shouldn't be any trains, either. But there they were, a set of railroad tracks for us to walk across, which we did, nervously looking both ways for any train speeding in our direction. Make fun of me if you will, but I saw the movie "Fried Green Tomatoes" and I know that feet getting stuck in rails in front of an onrushing train is a calamity best avoided. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nz9cZgEWclufqCojp66JkjfEFXJbQFuzdrKWYKpl8fNG0eUPgmu2xu4k0_gubnAFG--ErUkunLwWDp4NclscUG4xcFSgQKs6dxhJcsk-cboRIqRCgvlCRpnwceCEcU3ZqCQTfQ7W1_wc5Dod4JFRqvJSFCQzKDWTJQ4St7Ettv1h-OHOcMa1tNFJew/s6000/52338816311_ca25a24b4f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nz9cZgEWclufqCojp66JkjfEFXJbQFuzdrKWYKpl8fNG0eUPgmu2xu4k0_gubnAFG--ErUkunLwWDp4NclscUG4xcFSgQKs6dxhJcsk-cboRIqRCgvlCRpnwceCEcU3ZqCQTfQ7W1_wc5Dod4JFRqvJSFCQzKDWTJQ4St7Ettv1h-OHOcMa1tNFJew/s320/52338816311_ca25a24b4f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moment of reflection on Diamond Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After the railroad crossing, our route entered the Diamond Peak Wilderness via the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recreation/recarea/?recid=4659" target="_blank">Vivian Lake Trail</a>, which went totally steep on us. Huff, puff, we were soon gasping for breath like beached carp while admiring the beautiful forest we were trudging through. There were a number of small creeks and bogs on the trail but decaying boardwalks got us through and across. The forest did provide some fruity succor in the form of huckleberry, salmonberry, and thimbleberry and I partook thereof.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZi1YVWQ312KWKC6zONrlx4-kF3JsR9wqIPlemxR633qtnUX9AM4ODSe0f_bTgnoJNP_t0DJBLApY0PdjyxDQvMtKge1cSvo-TycMtJ0UXXLFz2LC_KFeNOzugrNUnRdgnrCIh9FPw69b_XRemxhwAaAeUhAjgejCJCS-DgbXiPF4BFOIwbnyzUANKWw/s6000/52334956081_cbc768ecdc_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZi1YVWQ312KWKC6zONrlx4-kF3JsR9wqIPlemxR633qtnUX9AM4ODSe0f_bTgnoJNP_t0DJBLApY0PdjyxDQvMtKge1cSvo-TycMtJ0UXXLFz2LC_KFeNOzugrNUnRdgnrCIh9FPw69b_XRemxhwAaAeUhAjgejCJCS-DgbXiPF4BFOIwbnyzUANKWw/s320/52334956081_cbc768ecdc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What little we could see of Fall Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />By comparison to splendid Salt Creek Falls and Diamond Creek Falls, Fall Creek Falls was rather mundane and ordinary. Because of the way the trail was perched on a cliff next to the cascade, you could only see the top half of the falls. I'm sure the cascade would be a lot more spectacular if you could see it completely from top to bottom but if you tried to bushwhack down, you'd be one of those "never heard from again" people.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX59E-G2ig9xn9aGGeX5cP-BDoStyG_rWLRF-k-NzdPOHcxowABI5Q6eJjRLGwcMTYG_R-TWqx4kKzoF6j0vml4f0Wzm71aL0D-E_cM6yhXxtuj6CEBVGY1n5qm6oEQFlV9zORZSSRX49r9t0-885Nk9sjiW-ihGRMjNmWFtgIe5e-44WvBimUlC-SUw/s6000/52339115264_46d7951050_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX59E-G2ig9xn9aGGeX5cP-BDoStyG_rWLRF-k-NzdPOHcxowABI5Q6eJjRLGwcMTYG_R-TWqx4kKzoF6j0vml4f0Wzm71aL0D-E_cM6yhXxtuj6CEBVGY1n5qm6oEQFlV9zORZSSRX49r9t0-885Nk9sjiW-ihGRMjNmWFtgIe5e-44WvBimUlC-SUw/s320/52339115264_46d7951050_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Much of the Diamond Creek<br />Falls Trail looked like this</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My legs quit on me at that point, having given their all to get me up to Fall Creek Falls. So while everybody continued on to Vivian Lake, I called it good and headed back down the trail to return to Diamond Creek. This time I'd head past Diamond Creek's waterfall and continue on the loop route back to Salt Creek Falls. At this juncture, most of the route went through some lovely shaded forest that felt cool on an increasingly warm day. While Diamond Creek was not seen much, it was always heard as the trail paralleled the creek's path.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5lFA4oacn97i64hlmGB6YVk0RV4lUPuYX9GjsEPBJnktgvj1ELSM_9BDafAx4N0AMwRaLe-xmEJMeqjVpuYNwIyMLi9Qq4N5aypfLj3Hld64sHfvpqbXZSikg3TCndHdwKBt6sszt5wpcr-9ogwEUzeNdEy1EO_aMglqWP8RoJjV01nySAPIERCdWw/s6000/52338812106_ffb4b27675_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5lFA4oacn97i64hlmGB6YVk0RV4lUPuYX9GjsEPBJnktgvj1ELSM_9BDafAx4N0AMwRaLe-xmEJMeqjVpuYNwIyMLi9Qq4N5aypfLj3Hld64sHfvpqbXZSikg3TCndHdwKBt6sszt5wpcr-9ogwEUzeNdEy1EO_aMglqWP8RoJjV01nySAPIERCdWw/s320/52338812106_ffb4b27675_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt Creek has carved a deep and massive gorge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Diamond Creek eventually joins up with Salt Creek and the two creeks then conspire to carve out a deep and spectacular canyon. Periodic openings in the forest cover provided impressive vistas of the gorge with Salt Creek flowing way below the trail. Being prudent in my dotage, I did not venture too close to the rim's edge, it could be a quick trip down, for sure.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznTgiyHkfV1wVMPa2N0tRW_Up9MlF5IX-x8DjUZFfhyLgV6ADzG0u5ifK2LVgJ7-kkKx-MuRD-HfsZbVY66AU_IWqklLlW5LeWR-0kJ1Qm52qUvt61BK90QbUd4u0C5COiF1mFSwkPL6mwwUvYIXgL_mvp_XvT_ghUz0CZaGrE8T8GV0Rq2rT4DSJsg/s5856/52338806256_8f058bcdac_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3904" data-original-width="5856" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznTgiyHkfV1wVMPa2N0tRW_Up9MlF5IX-x8DjUZFfhyLgV6ADzG0u5ifK2LVgJ7-kkKx-MuRD-HfsZbVY66AU_IWqklLlW5LeWR-0kJ1Qm52qUvt61BK90QbUd4u0C5COiF1mFSwkPL6mwwUvYIXgL_mvp_XvT_ghUz0CZaGrE8T8GV0Rq2rT4DSJsg/s320/52338806256_8f058bcdac_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too Much Bear lake was "unbearable"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is a small lake in the area by the name of Too Much Bear Lake but you could only reach the lake from one particular side trail. I did go down to see the lake and snap a few photos and I "enjoyed" the steep but short hike back to the main trail when done. I didn't see any bear so on this day at least, the lake was quite misnamed.</div><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kmGjInc6AssxcR0ot_rXnI65rmPmknmq2W1ZaSCif8odByrPY5w5QVXuUQwCY_P9wMffP3ZDJ8hd3ZinyvyYHckvIFU9Xwxagx1G2BWR7JaE7Dy4jq29eJ9No1GV_LO3cokzpvy7sGGZ72HrBWNPHSQIwDvlETW4-5YKQw_eCQ1F6JaHh1N2Dmu2Cg/s6000/52331716849_8508ff4a39_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7kmGjInc6AssxcR0ot_rXnI65rmPmknmq2W1ZaSCif8odByrPY5w5QVXuUQwCY_P9wMffP3ZDJ8hd3ZinyvyYHckvIFU9Xwxagx1G2BWR7JaE7Dy4jq29eJ9No1GV_LO3cokzpvy7sGGZ72HrBWNPHSQIwDvlETW4-5YKQw_eCQ1F6JaHh1N2Dmu2Cg/s320/52331716849_8508ff4a39_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salmonberry provided some hiking sustenance</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">While waiting for my comrades to return to the trailhead, I took a pleasant nap next to Salt Creek, the sound of the rushing stream dropping me into a peaceful slumber. When I woke up to the sound of Lane's squeaky voice permeating the otherwise peaceful air between the trees, I was fully refreshed and sated. A waterfall hike (and nap) will do that to you and this had been one of the better ones.</div><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxkoF2inIfef4l5yGxNO8kbX1VITCmuOb7o31dlLiTHoEaam_r2ybcMvN8TxuAZWTYjzB1eV1Of8atxIbgsfpmX9DyIr6MmTKTzQ5BtzCo8iAx7ZZ26AuJc22WJBvot1eug_gf71zRMCZKPPYjJIYvkL7q-VMUBIDQb3vjuw_WgU2o5EkgEQ_YQOZJg/s6000/52328465977_6b4fb12eaa_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxkoF2inIfef4l5yGxNO8kbX1VITCmuOb7o31dlLiTHoEaam_r2ybcMvN8TxuAZWTYjzB1eV1Of8atxIbgsfpmX9DyIr6MmTKTzQ5BtzCo8iAx7ZZ26AuJc22WJBvot1eug_gf71zRMCZKPPYjJIYvkL7q-VMUBIDQb3vjuw_WgU2o5EkgEQ_YQOZJg/s320/52328465977_6b4fb12eaa_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike and Missy on the "trail"<br />down to Diamond Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/rozoneill/albums/72177720301729750" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183286511?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:57:38+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss4975" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183286511" class="jss4976"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4977 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss4978"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4979 jss5000 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss4977">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Salt Creek Falls Day Use Area Crescent, OR 9773343.611750699999988 -122.127757143.608643588883417 -122.13204863442382 43.614857811116558 -122.12346556557617tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-87225545298231271042022-08-19T08:00:00.556-07:002022-12-24T19:47:22.681-08:00Little Cultus Lake to Cultus Lake<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimpC9rFWau1HK7o3WD8VDjBPjKmUJXjl6BlIPt8NPJ_c9AuloucW2boIyjdG8TE9QXM3ndDyycjJjjV7fgWpYf9VmMxMXcFDQPLftt1bVbRHCijxQZ_9KNSE3SK_cxV22sVHIUULGkrSOr11GYGdZu2eehPAbeYS0GmeaW-gDqg1xPmYR_rz6jt5Rww/s6000/52321806226_96284e5b89_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimpC9rFWau1HK7o3WD8VDjBPjKmUJXjl6BlIPt8NPJ_c9AuloucW2boIyjdG8TE9QXM3ndDyycjJjjV7fgWpYf9VmMxMXcFDQPLftt1bVbRHCijxQZ_9KNSE3SK_cxV22sVHIUULGkrSOr11GYGdZu2eehPAbeYS0GmeaW-gDqg1xPmYR_rz6jt5Rww/s320/52321806226_96284e5b89_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We woke up to "Smoke on the Water". No, not the totally awesome rock song by Deep Purple but instead, real smoke wafting across Odell Lake and penetrating the hairy nostrils of unwashed and unshaven hikers eating a rudimentary breakfast at camp. And the same could also be said about the men in our group, too! The acrid air quality could only mean one of two things: Either prevailing air currents had shifted direction, or else nearby <a href="https://inciweb.nwcg.gov/incident-information/orwif-cedar-creek-fire" target="_blank">Cedar Creek Fire</a> had dramatically increased in size and bellicosity while we slept dreaming of blister-free heels and level trails. Fortunately, the culprit behind the smoky air was the change in air currents and we could deal with that.</div></span><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKT_aITBqEI9HEfIE4nGaEaI5TMkIdXC-95gdhS3z8dZ34HZuVUbGics-f3fhG2Bf2RixxK1jQP4ZQXAMzzGzlhOC3EwHJEOQ1OKJxBCbG-FYOJY8jinobSgueJkxMt2tnp_J3GRLzHWJ8aAINlmTSyCOK3SrjMEHxJ94KnBMWie_c9buiBGC7T6RoA/s6000/52321418219_3c3b572f7a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKT_aITBqEI9HEfIE4nGaEaI5TMkIdXC-95gdhS3z8dZ34HZuVUbGics-f3fhG2Bf2RixxK1jQP4ZQXAMzzGzlhOC3EwHJEOQ1OKJxBCbG-FYOJY8jinobSgueJkxMt2tnp_J3GRLzHWJ8aAINlmTSyCOK3SrjMEHxJ94KnBMWie_c9buiBGC7T6RoA/s320/52321418219_3c3b572f7a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prepare to eat dust for the next 10 miles!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span>Seeking cleaner air to breathe, we piled into our vehicles and drove out to the Cultus Lake area. We were much pleased to see blue sky at the lake, although the air did have a touch of haze to it. Others were not as pleased, particularly those hikers who had to ride to<a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/deschutes/recarea/?recid=71993" target="_blank"> Little Cultus Lake Trailhead</a>, stuffed tight into the bed of Lane's truck </span>like an open tin of oily sardines when we set up the shuttle for this end-to-end hike.</span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9FaJ8vNIzkywB4fEVh5NPwWpSVjKQ4rVVzouWVEWV2LwTGE5IonIMDxzUwV_ufbUlAa97rkKJYicVdo-o9i6sn0oqx2yja-mrqJFmsuiA4DuLXzi7iwgrOO7s2LSFklaUVxxlIoc4CHgghiT-bQBqeWJUh57UibqY6LSuVQKzI7msOjHe_4jyBbh4w/s5871/52320992671_0dba0c672d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3914" data-original-width="5871" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9FaJ8vNIzkywB4fEVh5NPwWpSVjKQ4rVVzouWVEWV2LwTGE5IonIMDxzUwV_ufbUlAa97rkKJYicVdo-o9i6sn0oqx2yja-mrqJFmsuiA4DuLXzi7iwgrOO7s2LSFklaUVxxlIoc4CHgghiT-bQBqeWJUh57UibqY6LSuVQKzI7msOjHe_4jyBbh4w/s320/52320992671_0dba0c672d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Cultus Lake on a hazy and smoky morning</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After that dusty drive on an unpaved forest road where we front-riders made fun of the dust-breathing rear-riders in the pickup bed, we arrived at Little Cultus Lake. While the air was slightly hazy with smoke, as it had been at Cultus Lake, the Cedar Creek Fire was still a quaint little 5,600 acres in size and the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/deschutes/recarea/?recid=71987" target="_blank">Cultus Lake area</a> was not yet under a Level 3 (Get out now!) evacuation order so we were pretty happy with our lot in life. Both of those things would change for the worse a week or so after this hike.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzs-8MrYjRC3k2blXrttDwMUTgqHiHM4vIwgGqIr5fbCSv7EY6H1t3qg_9seCzIbVGpCzWmv5heWq7f7aGCFXM66S7ATkNYc3q8kLefGton_esAOX4eyA1Oo7MgLWMmOS3xgr6D96Qlk5h7l6KEhMBVR09Eg8FcwPnb0kZpgTO2Wlt1KEmNGqwhyP6A/s6000/52321302583_81cd838b28_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzs-8MrYjRC3k2blXrttDwMUTgqHiHM4vIwgGqIr5fbCSv7EY6H1t3qg_9seCzIbVGpCzWmv5heWq7f7aGCFXM66S7ATkNYc3q8kLefGton_esAOX4eyA1Oo7MgLWMmOS3xgr6D96Qlk5h7l6KEhMBVR09Eg8FcwPnb0kZpgTO2Wlt1KEmNGqwhyP6A/s320/52321302583_81cd838b28_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the trail between lakes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a brief teasing sideswipe of scenic Little Cultus Lake, the trail ducked into the forest and then stayed there for many a mile, in what would be a pattern for this hike. Our preference would have been more lakes and less forest but then again, we weren't hiking at smoky Odell Lake so we mostly kept our rude comments to ourselves. Mostly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MF7ODSanQ0x7EZjwDLS7HiTqQMS-efO5g6CDNyRW9qAfqQwXtzJ2kjOEOJvrzqKkfxsGXDd2k-YYQVYWlj3qCzM0h9uBOgkaBHTL3jFBpJ0Tj8W1KYWwXUk4IS1sPIcFF3iJAn_q0hhkCaPk25zn7ebDyTdaDF_zhvgSFixdl80qoEV5dbZk7idf8w/s8139/52321300443_d100e2ed59_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3861" data-original-width="8139" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MF7ODSanQ0x7EZjwDLS7HiTqQMS-efO5g6CDNyRW9qAfqQwXtzJ2kjOEOJvrzqKkfxsGXDd2k-YYQVYWlj3qCzM0h9uBOgkaBHTL3jFBpJ0Tj8W1KYWwXUk4IS1sPIcFF3iJAn_q0hhkCaPk25zn7ebDyTdaDF_zhvgSFixdl80qoEV5dbZk7idf8w/s320/52321300443_d100e2ed59_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a couple of miles of quality forest time, the trail hit idyllic Deer Lake, which could have been Little Cultus Lake's fraternal twin. Ringed by forest, the little lake reposed under a blue sky with forested hills all around. We didn't see any deer at Deer Lake but I held on tight to my hiking poles anyway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzijxKIxiG2sJvjIvaUWGa5BD0vpZfW45AYUJkpyJuW_Bbshmq8fm7TO_Q0-xHMQATAjiqiNxrdSh6ToDHmJ1arioCQRUjFypveK8ua83i5zJ7SHN5Q8gTN6FSCb6xpDF0KbwS4YrH1fbbjjKC9Wq5uHB1jyVZF_PvkB3gtSQR2avejBo-r4ysNCvNw/s5877/52320184422_46053282ea_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3918" data-original-width="5877" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzijxKIxiG2sJvjIvaUWGa5BD0vpZfW45AYUJkpyJuW_Bbshmq8fm7TO_Q0-xHMQATAjiqiNxrdSh6ToDHmJ1arioCQRUjFypveK8ua83i5zJ7SHN5Q8gTN6FSCb6xpDF0KbwS4YrH1fbbjjKC9Wq5uHB1jyVZF_PvkB3gtSQR2avejBo-r4ysNCvNw/s320/52320184422_46053282ea_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunchtime view at Cultus Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />In what was now an obvious trend, from Deer Creek it was again another couple of miles through viewless forest before our arrival at <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/deschutes/recarea/?recid=39028" target="_blank">West Cultus Lake Campground</a>, which is a campground for the boating crowd. Seeing how it was a nice day and all, the camp was in heavy use but since we didn't have a boat or campsite, we simply commandeered some logs to sit down on while we ate lunch next to large Cultus Lake.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJW0MxvDa6EgrXUm6bJq_NoPgSZ9hZkxHwfVWuAA0IsHxPNUN6V1L2DFxUOwKYnwQpSgTu9pTiLRdO7TtvWOwnAkpisEhfEvBw2KZ2sud-eaNyLRTRhhUwv-Wf-HecdoxCPoycHFQEbiP8Ewx_ehYlmSbjytnZgrbFDj-SgGNDt3SnjqLqOcJ99hlQ0A/s5775/52321410899_8263a24938_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3850" data-original-width="5775" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJW0MxvDa6EgrXUm6bJq_NoPgSZ9hZkxHwfVWuAA0IsHxPNUN6V1L2DFxUOwKYnwQpSgTu9pTiLRdO7TtvWOwnAkpisEhfEvBw2KZ2sud-eaNyLRTRhhUwv-Wf-HecdoxCPoycHFQEbiP8Ewx_ehYlmSbjytnZgrbFDj-SgGNDt3SnjqLqOcJ99hlQ0A/s320/52321410899_8263a24938_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cultus Mountain loomed at<br />the west end of Cultus Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The lake stretched out for several miles in front of us, the blue waters sparkling in the sun. In the distance, the symmetrical volcanic cone of Mount Bachelor rose beyond the far end of the lake. Closer to our campsite, rose another symmetrical cone, that being forested Cultus Mountain. None of us menfolk noticed the young lady in a bikini sunning in the campsite next to us because the awesome scenery commanded our full and undivided attention.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T7yyLyCAjN04vonBdT4NsWYpKIvOwxYSBpHoYdmXdsPZiv56H4_YHAU2XRZauxoCrs3iW9Gi9BmGv_BiXTXmBg0tHgcmEav9wjQDXcntX8yVEy6J7r9kaB_8d5hKPbsuzevnwWBFgwRTATASxDoWjF9D4gyclgMHCAXPBRl0PBU4EmF5eFLmHE8SQg/s5859/52322240544_13207edf23_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3906" data-original-width="5859" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T7yyLyCAjN04vonBdT4NsWYpKIvOwxYSBpHoYdmXdsPZiv56H4_YHAU2XRZauxoCrs3iW9Gi9BmGv_BiXTXmBg0tHgcmEav9wjQDXcntX8yVEy6J7r9kaB_8d5hKPbsuzevnwWBFgwRTATASxDoWjF9D4gyclgMHCAXPBRl0PBU4EmF5eFLmHE8SQg/s320/52322240544_13207edf23_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nascent thunderclouds form on the eastern skyline</td></tr></tbody></table><br />To the northeast, a bank of clouds formed and it sure looked like they were trying really hard to become thunderheads. The clouds were far away and seemed fairly benign but as they became larger and more numerous, it seemed prudent to commence hiking again so as not to get caught out in the middle of a lightning storm. Plus, the lady in the bikini that we did not notice, had retired into her tent.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUZlm1CK-47FS_8ZEfuPVR5F7cJhiGJ3w1sTCVT6R0hK-Li1LHEOdoqtpJIA1RbHtplxu_B8-A82yyjBiw2zGQSkapO5j_zbZ2GKpqbOQLpZ1oDey4G7bhO243PDyDwTRRgk6pcKFYyORMN9Z-w-T0vKki-4Ev3Xth0EyyM1b9ACv11EgsJOBcDSpKA/s6000/52321012287_e2262337bd_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUZlm1CK-47FS_8ZEfuPVR5F7cJhiGJ3w1sTCVT6R0hK-Li1LHEOdoqtpJIA1RbHtplxu_B8-A82yyjBiw2zGQSkapO5j_zbZ2GKpqbOQLpZ1oDey4G7bhO243PDyDwTRRgk6pcKFYyORMN9Z-w-T0vKki-4Ev3Xth0EyyM1b9ACv11EgsJOBcDSpKA/s320/52321012287_e2262337bd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Much of the eight mile hike was like this</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Although the trail followed three miles of Cultus Lake's shoreline, we saw none of the scenic lake as the route spirited us off into three miles of viewless forest. We eventually did see Cultus Lake again when the trail ended next to a campground. Not all of us fit into the shuttle vehicle so Mike, Missy, and myself hiked another mile-plus to the Cultus Lake Resort where Lane picked us up once his vehicle was retrieved. Predictably, even though we were walking on the roadway next to the lake, most of the walk was in viewless forest until we reached the resort. But on the plus side, we get the Golden Boot for hiking farther than everybody else.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5z-D9BLhR9fY8DbheaMrks6otmkqboPblgDSBZEmW2dW945FBGKrOXcfKkB7WHE_R9537XJLmZoQfhgZQUDF9kcJbsNeQoRMLPHDqKGcB7BTq0jIQ6mLvsEc784dUeAJZfTL0yoItbHz_tYkPD5VJuhGMzRfIdAQJYbMn2xBm4h7LaEEv_kQd53yIuA/s6000/52321430180_1bf5406b14_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5z-D9BLhR9fY8DbheaMrks6otmkqboPblgDSBZEmW2dW945FBGKrOXcfKkB7WHE_R9537XJLmZoQfhgZQUDF9kcJbsNeQoRMLPHDqKGcB7BTq0jIQ6mLvsEc784dUeAJZfTL0yoItbHz_tYkPD5VJuhGMzRfIdAQJYbMn2xBm4h7LaEEv_kQd53yIuA/s320/52321430180_1bf5406b14_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine-drops prettified the forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, this wasn't the most exciting hike we've ever done, consisting as it did of mostly walking in a viewless and not particularly scenic forest. But hey, we'll take it, because it sure beats walking in a veritable smokehouse, breathing in ashy remains of trees, hopes, and dreams. The good news too, was that upon our return to camp at Odell Lake, the winds had once again shifted and blew the smoke elsewhere. I'm sure the residents of Oakridge weren't as happy as we were about the change in wind direction, though.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhVYFk2RG5OjzfhU2aJ0XV9tI6j6NlKRHhtpLaIBlmK5RAQ8H0LV0eUkKb70ZnwmBt01FVx1cVl7XFboWfPdqntQCuZD7IgBuGaxyh8TBN17U1WT8u_aeyLGZ_0Rnvb6K7Tk6pYvQweru3yMXgxrvB_M8bxNyjRtH_Tarx6vcN0aj5ak6uaLDWYbUKQ/s6000/52321429190_9d66908e45_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhVYFk2RG5OjzfhU2aJ0XV9tI6j6NlKRHhtpLaIBlmK5RAQ8H0LV0eUkKb70ZnwmBt01FVx1cVl7XFboWfPdqntQCuZD7IgBuGaxyh8TBN17U1WT8u_aeyLGZ_0Rnvb6K7Tk6pYvQweru3yMXgxrvB_M8bxNyjRtH_Tarx6vcN0aj5ak6uaLDWYbUKQ/s320/52321429190_9d66908e45_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mass confusion at Little Cultus Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA55rd" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.</p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183284216?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:53:08+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss3051" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183284216" class="jss3052"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3053 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3054"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3055 jss3076 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3053">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com1 Little Cultus Lake Campground NF-600 Cultus Lake, OR43.8007125 -121.863956543.788324467735549 -121.88112263769531 43.813100532264457 -121.84679036230469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-3173486474696738782022-08-18T08:00:00.494-07:002022-12-23T23:28:20.502-08:00Rosary Lakes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8MBAdpeOBKlTitEW2mqOaFgG6xnyn21ptZgDi-uBa0d0uz3K9DXcK-fFrtM71anO5VJbjpVbIx6ZJNu6y01k-aZ9BlWrwSMdsnbZ1bm95bB4spxz5Q-GH4gWqtHNMqGBl5Tsz4G-BHl4tZC2vROr0DQDiyJJf-qyLCMxntoQe5uCDVJ_sUiouEnqZg/s5850/52314882298_85675b75a5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3900" data-original-width="5850" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8MBAdpeOBKlTitEW2mqOaFgG6xnyn21ptZgDi-uBa0d0uz3K9DXcK-fFrtM71anO5VJbjpVbIx6ZJNu6y01k-aZ9BlWrwSMdsnbZ1bm95bB4spxz5Q-GH4gWqtHNMqGBl5Tsz4G-BHl4tZC2vROr0DQDiyJJf-qyLCMxntoQe5uCDVJ_sUiouEnqZg/s320/52314882298_85675b75a5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Lane brought a new toy to this hike. It was a brand new GPS with a screen large enough for a Super Bowl party in a Las Vegas sports bar. Suddenly, my own humble GPS seemed woefully inadequate and while I congratulated Lane, deep down inside I may have been envious. However, Lane made the mistake of showing Edwin the new GPS and that in turn, wound up interjecting three bushwhack side-trips into this otherwise staid hike on the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recreation/hiking/recarea/?recid=81075&actid=51" target="_blank">Pacific Crest Trail (PCT)</a>.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXWGS87TJdNCdFm3piZS-HA20SyTAfBHO0sU04KOx15ISMz0k2PvcY73x3AQF3lBjaDEMjfeGUQb46WkOUf40zcW7diof9ZNf5sLnaJ6e6bN_1pDUTTdDWOV6mkBqwVXgLPxR5SbNa1ZFB18WIBsOY7RCJ9phtXZagmnAVcS_b868T-wbbDvnmfLLwg/s5736/52313480765_8b6a060006_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3824" data-original-width="5736" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXWGS87TJdNCdFm3piZS-HA20SyTAfBHO0sU04KOx15ISMz0k2PvcY73x3AQF3lBjaDEMjfeGUQb46WkOUf40zcW7diof9ZNf5sLnaJ6e6bN_1pDUTTdDWOV6mkBqwVXgLPxR5SbNa1ZFB18WIBsOY7RCJ9phtXZagmnAVcS_b868T-wbbDvnmfLLwg/s320/52313480765_8b6a060006_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rosary Beads</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A bunch of us were camping at nearby Odell Lake and our original plan was to hike in the Waldo Lake area. However, the Cedar Creek Fire had rendered the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recreation/recarea/?recid=4482">Waldo Lake Wilderness</a> trail system off limits, and wisely so. The nearby <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recreation/recarea/?recid=4483" target="_blank">Diamond Peak Wilderness</a> was off limits too, due to a different fire, and the two closures didn't really leave a lot of open trails to choose from. But lucky us, a small section of the Pacific Crest Trail between the two wilderness areas remained open and was just minutes away from Odell Lake and that's the story of how we wound up hiking to the Rosary Lakes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFog4mz8K14q3OtSun9V1zQ78c037T1zGUVljm3lVkIYuK9lLwqVtGWlJPK5SDy6B3Jd4gJ78EbOGL5_6UBBYKF5SByQ9ZiTqymnQVMR2_oNMQCkm-O-kakArhgOXq7LdedEaWq66e_BPAOgs7rzvHAxJrvlWR7ZblDQGkV9BULfNHZvC2NfzZjofYw/s6000/52313033591_891ca146d8_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFog4mz8K14q3OtSun9V1zQ78c037T1zGUVljm3lVkIYuK9lLwqVtGWlJPK5SDy6B3Jd4gJ78EbOGL5_6UBBYKF5SByQ9ZiTqymnQVMR2_oNMQCkm-O-kakArhgOXq7LdedEaWq66e_BPAOgs7rzvHAxJrvlWR7ZblDQGkV9BULfNHZvC2NfzZjofYw/s320/52313033591_891ca146d8_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first several miles were well forested</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A light rain fell off and on during the entire hike and the forest was filled with the hissing sound of rainfall to go along with the noisy chattering of our little group. We may have numbered few, but our voices were mighty. The PCT gently climbed through a forest comprised of uniformly sized trees, which were also uniformly fuzzy with a light green coat of lichen and moss. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGsKTzS6gZ-KufBA9m4YWUu1XAWLAIEgfQojxLLMsnuO0ztTBqLE19lWF-8kn4MGuUNPe9nOkLFYNu-Iuyr3TbEJn_iqp7iCd0LR8b4Oz-nD04ZSWFRrUcUOMUu3y5SKmS2OU_bD43dPhlEiLQC-q5dP3fYoPsrPcObyx4qhFSB7OAIsgEUYyhyeO4Q/s9187/52313460994_4c8593c2f0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3668" data-original-width="9187" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGsKTzS6gZ-KufBA9m4YWUu1XAWLAIEgfQojxLLMsnuO0ztTBqLE19lWF-8kn4MGuUNPe9nOkLFYNu-Iuyr3TbEJn_iqp7iCd0LR8b4Oz-nD04ZSWFRrUcUOMUu3y5SKmS2OU_bD43dPhlEiLQC-q5dP3fYoPsrPcObyx4qhFSB7OAIsgEUYyhyeO4Q/s320/52313460994_4c8593c2f0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Rosary Lakes is the epitome of stillness</td></tr></tbody></table><br />In short order, the trail crested and then dropped into the basin of Lower Rosary Lake. The rain had temporarily abated and the lake was like polished onyx, the dark waters reflecting the surrounding forest, mountains, and gray sky above. The craggy spire of Pulpit Rock dominated the view here, as it did at all three Rosary Lakes. The stillness of the water was preternatural and we spoke in hushed reverential tones for fear the sound waves from our voices would rend the serenity asunder. As we gazed in wonder at the idyllic scene, the spell was broken by a brazen doe coming to join us. Clearly, she was quite habituated to the presence of humans.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCAlvBvL5cVLtQwejODAC2UfhhkWJHYvFP5get355NvJ3xkrSo0Vqyx5SgTOgZPcCVhZVHlUP5YXyskIdAG4MluMMf2D60UBQawr78qmAL6cjluIt7yJBrGaJK3pHhHzpog2YDMusTxfjXXaxdfyKBf8FFA1QoJzO0_ePrgCo9NaIzu3pe1TngkWeMA/s7807/52315016245_a3076e114c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3618" data-original-width="7807" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCAlvBvL5cVLtQwejODAC2UfhhkWJHYvFP5get355NvJ3xkrSo0Vqyx5SgTOgZPcCVhZVHlUP5YXyskIdAG4MluMMf2D60UBQawr78qmAL6cjluIt7yJBrGaJK3pHhHzpog2YDMusTxfjXXaxdfyKBf8FFA1QoJzO0_ePrgCo9NaIzu3pe1TngkWeMA/s320/52315016245_a3076e114c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edwin Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Our next stop would have been Middle Rosary Lake but Edwin espied a marshy pond off-trail and before you could say "no, Edwin, no!" we were all following the madman as he tromped through a mild tangle of woods and vegetation to reach the body of water. The pond was somewhat inaccessible in that a shallow marsh of water, mud, grass, and maybe a bog orchid or two kept us away from the main body, not that we wanted to swim on this semi-rainy day anyway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0eh80fvjDSv7AuepxNpOCD9a1Gpf2ezsXjSnfa8g4tv4IyDmXXwN42CvMN20ulqRlW1Tuv6EvmTkbDp7POSqvg3zVvXIjl1cIKG2tJKD3ouiErfnnTbjsa4HuylM7byIR1sp3RxghRCq9J9w9uJ1SHtqZmLfdKo8ncjOJ67wkva-z00A-95L_OWuEQ/s5836/52314571031_c13569bd76_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5668" data-original-width="5836" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0eh80fvjDSv7AuepxNpOCD9a1Gpf2ezsXjSnfa8g4tv4IyDmXXwN42CvMN20ulqRlW1Tuv6EvmTkbDp7POSqvg3zVvXIjl1cIKG2tJKD3ouiErfnnTbjsa4HuylM7byIR1sp3RxghRCq9J9w9uJ1SHtqZmLfdKo8ncjOJ67wkva-z00A-95L_OWuEQ/s320/52314571031_c13569bd76_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulpit Rock is nearest to Middle Rosary Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once we were able to pry Edwin away from his discovery of a small lake (we'll have to petition the Oregon Geographic Names Board to name it Edwin Lake) we resumed hiking on the PCT up to Middle Rosary Lake. The craggy spire of Pulpit Rock again dominated the view, being closest to the trail at Middle Rosary Lake. Accordingly, we stopped for a bit to gawk at the sight of the imposing pinnacle reflecting upon a quiet and serene lake.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7z50scDZjJ7yR0a62q_PfzFcVVEPrXSGEgLIu2i7cF-r2diDjLLbXf1D1853J8DDRHtrMOrOrSC8fSQeQCDr6T0DwO7T16ds2TA2xnjAxFubSK4m94rsHTcjH1InnC6hm9XtqEMoAdnlnvnH-Pp8Iy9Obq7KenPJ5FcXi1UgfImrE1mum06pVGNjaw/s6000/52314995069_ba7523198c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7z50scDZjJ7yR0a62q_PfzFcVVEPrXSGEgLIu2i7cF-r2diDjLLbXf1D1853J8DDRHtrMOrOrSC8fSQeQCDr6T0DwO7T16ds2TA2xnjAxFubSK4m94rsHTcjH1InnC6hm9XtqEMoAdnlnvnH-Pp8Iy9Obq7KenPJ5FcXi1UgfImrE1mum06pVGNjaw/s320/52314995069_ba7523198c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny excels at the balance beam</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At Upper Rosary Lake, the last bead in the rosary, so to speak, we decided to leave the PCT and take a use-path around the back side of the lake. After crossing a grassy marsh on fallen logs, we followed a faint track which didn't take long to go sketchy and disappear altogether. However, navigation was simple, all we had to do was keep the lake on the right, and eventually we'd rejoin the PCT, which is exactly what happened.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0kTMp6OABzv5NaUxb5mLCR-npiSj42y098zkR2EWkICDTJJLVo5KKeTbcu1jOPgpmCGmzpNYd4pQjuQ4E504dh90U73dMxoyKTi8QLmnwNO9uXPyQioTPzBa5ofZHxHpFOwmk18OO1ttKQ1N-v-5pF9a-AAlcpZI92x0chIFJUle9ixq0-26i5TOwEQ/s6000/52316521417_2699c21ef9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0kTMp6OABzv5NaUxb5mLCR-npiSj42y098zkR2EWkICDTJJLVo5KKeTbcu1jOPgpmCGmzpNYd4pQjuQ4E504dh90U73dMxoyKTi8QLmnwNO9uXPyQioTPzBa5ofZHxHpFOwmk18OO1ttKQ1N-v-5pF9a-AAlcpZI92x0chIFJUle9ixq0-26i5TOwEQ/s320/52316521417_2699c21ef9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backpacker's digs at Lower Rosary Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />"What's that?" Lane was consulting his new GPS and sharp-eyed Edwin spotted another small lake on the GPS screen. And before you could say "oh no, not again!" we were all following Edwin to a backpacker's campsite. Here PCT through-hikers had fashioned a living room set out of rocks from Pulpit Rock's avalanche basin but Edwin had his eyes set on the small pond in back of the campsite.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kKpoBUdBsT7PVyTh5U_6-uoUZ1__rxHBpyKiRFeBBoyhIYI__TmXICta6d-jZTquafWhsuIvkSblCKkSeZfXVexcIXey3UFCv222DWr4Z7jjD5UNKnXNxb986xqSvcjsSqIOHU_pgw6Cz9qeFSUxfc6yetfamFQz2SEEwbPllFBJCKJ1OHpqlSPxRA/s6000/52317758490_c00760c65c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kKpoBUdBsT7PVyTh5U_6-uoUZ1__rxHBpyKiRFeBBoyhIYI__TmXICta6d-jZTquafWhsuIvkSblCKkSeZfXVexcIXey3UFCv222DWr4Z7jjD5UNKnXNxb986xqSvcjsSqIOHU_pgw6Cz9qeFSUxfc6yetfamFQz2SEEwbPllFBJCKJ1OHpqlSPxRA/s320/52317758490_c00760c65c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nameless pond full of ripples from the rain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We hatched a plan to walk around the pond, expecting to find another sketchy path going round. Nope, the faint track we had set out on soon "dissipated" (quoting Terry, here) and we were soon fighting the brush, which was in turn doing a fine job of fighting back. It was much easier to head downhill away from the pond through a forest, where presumably we'd eventually run into Lower Rosary Lake and that is exactly what happened. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8lfLcLwxJvCzuvfGBRiMOP-C0LGBOpf65ctbQ0nZ_a2v03G0LPawNpQRQnf5C9k8X4SzvMyBhctR1yHWwdmcQP_rCTIQ_q5aqn4e1BGkfiL4EBTXHxU5dvYicmZw7mtniGiDb74548JU8MTiQ_aj5itt7V5Zc8vHct5NMn-Tm6hD80jf6bQaH9KdvUw/s6000/52317747975_7fbd22a3a5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8lfLcLwxJvCzuvfGBRiMOP-C0LGBOpf65ctbQ0nZ_a2v03G0LPawNpQRQnf5C9k8X4SzvMyBhctR1yHWwdmcQP_rCTIQ_q5aqn4e1BGkfiL4EBTXHxU5dvYicmZw7mtniGiDb74548JU8MTiQ_aj5itt7V5Zc8vHct5NMn-Tm6hD80jf6bQaH9KdvUw/s320/52317747975_7fbd22a3a5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Literally can't see the forest for the trees</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Edwin wasn't done though, he again studied the screen on Lane's GPS and figured out the first pond we had bushwhacked to, was the source of Rosary Creek. That creek then plunged steeply down the mountainside before emptying into Odell Lake, right near our campground. Before you could say "bushwhack thrice", Edwin and Terry were off into the forest to shortcut the route home. The remainder of our group, being averse to getting lost, nifty widescreen hi-def GPS notwithstanding, returned to the trailhead. I'm both happy and sad to report Edwin and Terry beat us back to camp. In the meantime we have a new rule: don't let Edwin look at your GPS!</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj854v8dTJGsjrq_mF_ytc8DDSwuK60bw8uvr67YJqnn3QSu-wFU1EBMvPtKWDGS2TKnqCLei5H9atXgT9ysLfxyTpGUEhWwF1ZZckZWGQ3MlukrhJoud_KHsT1DIcYum5imLEH3_M4n0j72LTHcpJmFTVJ4RkWeexj2-PUU7HjiWOndoQlFFp5sDQbgw/s6000/52313765557_7bfee85d65_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj854v8dTJGsjrq_mF_ytc8DDSwuK60bw8uvr67YJqnn3QSu-wFU1EBMvPtKWDGS2TKnqCLei5H9atXgT9ysLfxyTpGUEhWwF1ZZckZWGQ3MlukrhJoud_KHsT1DIcYum5imLEH3_M4n0j72LTHcpJmFTVJ4RkWeexj2-PUU7HjiWOndoQlFFp5sDQbgw/s320/52313765557_7bfee85d65_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late summer is the season for pinesap</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA4vxu" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5178328918?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-26T05:43:43+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss4909" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5178328918" class="jss4910"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4911 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss4912"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss4913 jss4934 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss4911">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Pacific Crest Trailhead - Willamette Pass OR-58 Crescent Lake, OR 9773343.598223 -122.035023643.592007544145972 -122.04360666884766 43.604438455854023 -122.02644053115235tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-92186207120429101802022-08-10T08:00:00.759-07:002022-11-02T18:50:55.798-07:00Fall Creek Falls and Susan Creek Falls<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfUnuRAaaj0s9SJNUIlVVKr9ZYOJ_Je_xXhjcdhM0tSzt61ZcO6Z1dRaYoQSMHMZ_pmuiCHCbWCDD-QCMP94O7381dfXEPQWknH7Eakl86GJ_b9a69gzEddxlwqUlj1Ax2d6byKmnRI6pbwDGOZ2LdAC_vaAHdiv_dtrpFCtOs9Bom9pw_uVTwKF5bA/s6000/52308564411_23663ae8fc_o.jpg" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfUnuRAaaj0s9SJNUIlVVKr9ZYOJ_Je_xXhjcdhM0tSzt61ZcO6Z1dRaYoQSMHMZ_pmuiCHCbWCDD-QCMP94O7381dfXEPQWknH7Eakl86GJ_b9a69gzEddxlwqUlj1Ax2d6byKmnRI6pbwDGOZ2LdAC_vaAHdiv_dtrpFCtOs9Bom9pw_uVTwKF5bA/s320/52308564411_23663ae8fc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><h1><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At the trailhead and right next to our vehicle, somebody had spray-painted an outline of a human figure </span>on the asphalt<span style="font-family: inherit;">, like something right out of a homicide investigation. Somehow that was apt, for we had most definitely hiked in a mass casualty scene. You see, in 2020 the <a href="https://www.nrtoday.com/news/archie-creek-fire-was-an-entirely-different-monster/article_14a6c271-004a-527d-b221-32e70c85187e.html" target="_blank">Archie Creek Fire</a> had swept through this area, leaving behind charred carcasses of what once had been live trees. Because of the extensive fire damage, the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recarea/?recid=63690#:~:text=The%20one%2Dmile%20Fall%20Creek,old%2Dgrowth%20Douglas%2Dfir." target="_blank">Fall Creek Falls Trail </a>had been closed for over a year, but on an overcast weekday morn, Rheo, Dianne, Jane, and I went out for a an investigative look-see at the newly reopened trail to the falls.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSmv03wxWCg4AVLf1e27PRzAJQUi4OmatwOrB7nCXOXnHb0tCbb-7d9C0YwM7rMJ00NdooMthfkINhWavNwWSMcrdQIxWm6eQp-g-PpirMwyOZPWKC0Cj9lPBqAUinPZvj5U3qSQAUtK4-2OU5VKXQnKn29m2SRwk_mhkRq06BZ_l300bDsIVitMZ5g/s6000/52306281190_1f168ff191_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSmv03wxWCg4AVLf1e27PRzAJQUi4OmatwOrB7nCXOXnHb0tCbb-7d9C0YwM7rMJ00NdooMthfkINhWavNwWSMcrdQIxWm6eQp-g-PpirMwyOZPWKC0Cj9lPBqAUinPZvj5U3qSQAUtK4-2OU5VKXQnKn29m2SRwk_mhkRq06BZ_l300bDsIVitMZ5g/s320/52306281190_1f168ff191_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fall Creek is a little worse for the wear</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Prior to the fire, the walk to the falls had been the quintessential green hike. Back then, Fall Creek burbled next to the trail, nearby boulders were heavily mossed, and ferns ruled the creek banks. What a difference a catastrophic forest fire can make, for now the boulders were moss-free and bore the scorch marks of the rampaging conflagration. Tall and very dead trees flanked the trail, and debris choked Fall Creek.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjN28jV60ATzW455MjOuVe6RxjQG4EfJI7rNinh-fpOzqrLzypAfbtutM_KJDI2ZdcGUgdbKeuT2sgqR4U5mTKyR9lilNwvjK6bnHCLsDCUp_Z4y-x9TtUXcLQvWMjZMQuGswJBefmiYGz5JtnnhBYCjEMMFtJ93Y5mU96FoFDvHvTPk-YEoMDW2WMHA/s6000/52308589411_5fe1b52a14_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjN28jV60ATzW455MjOuVe6RxjQG4EfJI7rNinh-fpOzqrLzypAfbtutM_KJDI2ZdcGUgdbKeuT2sgqR4U5mTKyR9lilNwvjK6bnHCLsDCUp_Z4y-x9TtUXcLQvWMjZMQuGswJBefmiYGz5JtnnhBYCjEMMFtJ93Y5mU96FoFDvHvTPk-YEoMDW2WMHA/s320/52308589411_5fe1b52a14_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queen Anne's lace </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;">However, not all was lost, for beneath the many acres of dead trees, thrived a healthy population of sun-loving plants and late-season bloomers such as fireweed, pearly everlasting, thistles, and Queen Anne's lace. The vibe is not as green as in years prior, but these new vegetative populations are doing their best to prettify the trail.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div></span></div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrvWkPXIPMEIpwvRIU2sH4dO5b-9IE1-kVX_FMGpdeIqCKF3zb8qwGl1STpadOmNtc0J_64brguK4PwryoHyVxaRkNFJrghfOytacYX2b7vkbDByZNbnJ0uEBPQcyyauy9G6kvqyVbEf_tX65Ma9SSy1GnNK5Dr0WTsnZ5IvpSyDuC05MsUqLi_BWbw/s6000/52306264135_12a9432ef3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrvWkPXIPMEIpwvRIU2sH4dO5b-9IE1-kVX_FMGpdeIqCKF3zb8qwGl1STpadOmNtc0J_64brguK4PwryoHyVxaRkNFJrghfOytacYX2b7vkbDByZNbnJ0uEBPQcyyauy9G6kvqyVbEf_tX65Ma9SSy1GnNK5Dr0WTsnZ5IvpSyDuC05MsUqLi_BWbw/s320/52306264135_12a9432ef3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maple beetles are thriving in the burn area</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Insect life has returned to the burn zone too, mostly in the form of numerous maple beetles crawling on the trail and on most of the aforementioned plants and flowers. Ladybugs were also spotted huddling together for shelter on the underside of common yarrow flower heads. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi1jjYWflwGJLerGNRcLOMaZxrqoj_KaYe6LPjg-nAnnBlAbcymsKqaLn8qeYcgEgiuH8VghpRdo9Caiw1XsFwIn_GiGKhV0k6DoMEJHcQhT7RWvH_qx_gvHiwTU06SKgij9jJaBZpu0WIbdj_MbArU8uIRB8uoe_Uq--jbBYUlR-pheCf4uCa4E3AA/s6000/52306267680_27e5c81fdb_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi1jjYWflwGJLerGNRcLOMaZxrqoj_KaYe6LPjg-nAnnBlAbcymsKqaLn8qeYcgEgiuH8VghpRdo9Caiw1XsFwIn_GiGKhV0k6DoMEJHcQhT7RWvH_qx_gvHiwTU06SKgij9jJaBZpu0WIbdj_MbArU8uIRB8uoe_Uq--jbBYUlR-pheCf4uCa4E3AA/s320/52306267680_27e5c81fdb_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Fall Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table>Because of the lack of foliage, we could actually now observe both upper and lower falls at the same time from a fair distance away. Even though the picturesque cascade was fully visible, it still was much cooler to admire the lower falls from the splash basin and the upper falls from a railed overlook, and we obliged both.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPThRM0pIKOKMndDL25jSc672WqCS2Ed9xLM3TIXJLDTP6FHmV5tSm8uLKy0Xx01IcZHtVY2ARZ8EfSHmnx1AGSfsScf5SmkWkX574nuCauQIdgrGSpagz42gy4MR24a-4sLMV9vbYQPFAZ19GWGcR8LBeD4tUSusPT6zVnY0_fsdmwYKYJ4ZDc64XA/s6000/52309099989_85a5265510_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPThRM0pIKOKMndDL25jSc672WqCS2Ed9xLM3TIXJLDTP6FHmV5tSm8uLKy0Xx01IcZHtVY2ARZ8EfSHmnx1AGSfsScf5SmkWkX574nuCauQIdgrGSpagz42gy4MR24a-4sLMV9vbYQPFAZ19GWGcR8LBeD4tUSusPT6zVnY0_fsdmwYKYJ4ZDc64XA/s320/52309099989_85a5265510_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a berry nice hike</td></tr></tbody></table>The hike to the falls is pretty short, which is one reason I haven't hiked there all that much. So, for some extra mileage we explored the forest road at the top of the cascade. The homes that had been here before had also been lost to the fire and the road was clearly sagging, ready to slide downhill at the slightest provocation, like hikers walking on it. The atmosphere up here among all the death and destruction was somewhat on the forlorn side, although the blackberries growing here were delicious.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.blm.gov/visit/susan-creek-falls-trail-and-day-use-area#:~:text=Point%20of%20Interest%3A,on%20the%20time%20of%20year." target="_blank"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8MrLwhzDzp87rXKeAJD23NRBZdqZe8p2GfXuYaiu48B9ToWY75ewTpb7cVxPV9dzi2hn4Dmj2hx7SII6AQ835Vl0KQYzUcvWFXMNdeZHjnHVoJkoTzpmZZMVjfHI22x9X2WOt2KpA3iMMjgvjGMVOm5tsWP6HnaTNLPoYc3aBxNYCiHcH01hLGPHifA/s6000/52307837777_a0a0210a80_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8MrLwhzDzp87rXKeAJD23NRBZdqZe8p2GfXuYaiu48B9ToWY75ewTpb7cVxPV9dzi2hn4Dmj2hx7SII6AQ835Vl0KQYzUcvWFXMNdeZHjnHVoJkoTzpmZZMVjfHI22x9X2WOt2KpA3iMMjgvjGMVOm5tsWP6HnaTNLPoYc3aBxNYCiHcH01hLGPHifA/s320/52307837777_a0a0210a80_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "forest" at Susan Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.blm.gov/visit/susan-creek-falls-trail-and-day-use-area#:~:text=Point%20of%20Interest%3A,on%20the%20time%20of%20year." target="_blank"></a></div>Susan Creek was likewise ravaged by Archie but it was conveniently located on the way home, so we stopped there for another short hike to another spectacular waterfall. Just like at Fall Creek, the hike took place among the charred skeletons of trees past. But at least there was no coroner's pictograph on the parking lot pavement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0m-3PDRM70s_3IG9fpiECh_TDVS-tePZIn4TGcE-95ypOzrHS1F-1m_ESMKMkvw6QWAykxPzxiHqhkS-9xuoUdv0DhfDIN-vmLkdh1xd4wGxr9WONP9QL7hjNOxykBv2sUA9lR3AOQv_il99HnqtEJ9FRj-gdTv_SE341q_p8LQsjaJplDeiPmb48rA/s6000/52310573379_4b8c89d9a3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0m-3PDRM70s_3IG9fpiECh_TDVS-tePZIn4TGcE-95ypOzrHS1F-1m_ESMKMkvw6QWAykxPzxiHqhkS-9xuoUdv0DhfDIN-vmLkdh1xd4wGxr9WONP9QL7hjNOxykBv2sUA9lR3AOQv_il99HnqtEJ9FRj-gdTv_SE341q_p8LQsjaJplDeiPmb48rA/s320/52310573379_4b8c89d9a3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty to look at but common tansy is not welcome</td></tr></tbody></table>There were the same type of wildflowers seen at Fall Creek but there were some different ones too. The yellow daisy-like flowers of common tansy were pretty to look at but are most unwelcome, since tansy is a prolific invasive species. Pale blue wild chicory and lavender-tinted aster were more abundant here than they had been at Fall Creek.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi2e9m6HuyFdt8v1kLqAVQes06jamN3mfY8YtCjXPPiLX787o5wuWCg39eBflmpSuw6AIq5rzyWDKznCx4cWjNv04DvcmyN3STbVf6iIIKKntp-VFHKVetJsJeyLPVOh1U5vV35Ebp4R3P3N8_Pr7-xh02PipaS2pIc4gYEPEHqq8qXAapvegj0d0sw/s5835/52310052971_8593f327e7_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3890" data-original-width="5835" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi2e9m6HuyFdt8v1kLqAVQes06jamN3mfY8YtCjXPPiLX787o5wuWCg39eBflmpSuw6AIq5rzyWDKznCx4cWjNv04DvcmyN3STbVf6iIIKKntp-VFHKVetJsJeyLPVOh1U5vV35Ebp4R3P3N8_Pr7-xh02PipaS2pIc4gYEPEHqq8qXAapvegj0d0sw/s320/52310052971_8593f327e7_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Susan Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table>Susan Creek Falls tumbles over its rocky ledge in spectacular fashion, although it's still a bit odd for us old-timers to see the falls in bright daylight instead of in its former mossy and shady basin. Get used to it Richard, it's not going to change much during your remaining time on this planet. We lunched at the picnic area below the falls and enjoyed the scene as we ate our respective fruits, snacks, hot peppers, and gummy worms.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIaNpBvLhElP-QaaLVH2150ZQKT9ZneM4oDMGuOoj_A1tmANHI-rQivTt3xO5rlsI9tK0Bin1q2ltJVO53ztxViAgoqA-L5vmoKwQd4kEV4uhcGpVQe_YnEz-d6HmcHS2suD2jtnepMwwNder1vzVjMVuNYfp9Rfxj8xuzIhgFJ6t0oBLc0_xkl0HQw/s6000/52310524238_43b87d8c4c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIaNpBvLhElP-QaaLVH2150ZQKT9ZneM4oDMGuOoj_A1tmANHI-rQivTt3xO5rlsI9tK0Bin1q2ltJVO53ztxViAgoqA-L5vmoKwQd4kEV4uhcGpVQe_YnEz-d6HmcHS2suD2jtnepMwwNder1vzVjMVuNYfp9Rfxj8xuzIhgFJ6t0oBLc0_xkl0HQw/s320/52310524238_43b87d8c4c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stink bug gendarmes escort the St. John's wort beetle prisoner</td></tr></tbody></table>As at Fall Creek, insect life abounded on the surrounding vegetation. Shiny black St. John's wort beetles thrived not on St. John's wort, but on fireweed instead. Stink bugs wandered among the St. John's wort beetles, trundling along like insectile armored tanks warring over the same patch of fireweed. Not willing to engage hostile bug forces in combat over fireweed apparently, maple beetles crawled all over thistle plants and not on maples as their name would suggest. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutrjKf3nqaqRKV18AfrLmKOO379ngCE1qNqRBRGAbiNPAOxPzTfxaYy9wmE-_h9G4kTPMeFcDSoGa0c0MrGwwG-zj43qrOR44SMApGVv47R5nLTZIPOYECApZL3yBLZ95ygRDJd0XpNLaqRZj3isNjLlzkvK7x0jdKV94CRdAYvTcLAUA7fdhmq_qtw/s4727/52310556044_69526db35f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3151" data-original-width="4727" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutrjKf3nqaqRKV18AfrLmKOO379ngCE1qNqRBRGAbiNPAOxPzTfxaYy9wmE-_h9G4kTPMeFcDSoGa0c0MrGwwG-zj43qrOR44SMApGVv47R5nLTZIPOYECApZL3yBLZ95ygRDJd0XpNLaqRZj3isNjLlzkvK7x0jdKV94CRdAYvTcLAUA7fdhmq_qtw/s320/52310556044_69526db35f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Western tailed blue butterfly</td></tr></tbody></table>Not all of the insects were of the beetle variety as numerous butterflies danced from flower to flower. Of note were some brilliant sulfur-colored butterflies that would not stay still long enough for stealthy photographers. Oh well, I had to settle for a photo of a gray butterfly thingy but the fun was all in the chase.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicb-2IGqiRTS3V1rrubixVsTFxnuIqfQP4pnLTCOsQYSR19HID2fY80d7EXFXCWCKP_UGKMaGV9wmn-lXWkB2Ean05s2Fy-YImhBq4hvqnTxtoL31UgArLUEXL8BVPB5PCG5ybO0wCK_HScCMqpeexL1wFliy8z16tR9e3W5lhWwi7s7nOW44As3No0w/s6000/52305014272_fafb4b0ea7_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicb-2IGqiRTS3V1rrubixVsTFxnuIqfQP4pnLTCOsQYSR19HID2fY80d7EXFXCWCKP_UGKMaGV9wmn-lXWkB2Ean05s2Fy-YImhBq4hvqnTxtoL31UgArLUEXL8BVPB5PCG5ybO0wCK_HScCMqpeexL1wFliy8z16tR9e3W5lhWwi7s7nOW44As3No0w/s320/52305014272_fafb4b0ea7_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One small piece of Fall Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table>All of us on this outing are long-time (also known as "old") hikers and are quite familiar with how things used to be along this section of the North Umpqua River. To keep sane, which is a relative term, one just needs to accept the basic fact that things will never be like they were, at least during our lifetime. However, it's not necessarily a bad thing and these two short hikes proved the point that there is still great beauty along the river post-fire, it's just a different kind of beauty than what used to be.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIma1Sfex82sCTGUSZp7FF_uFcugPeFGn5nYV6Gm2u2XNhznXZdBFtkKPtZdcIM-PM-gFbgEIRTrSJUwaL0lfz0rZBTTEjNfyNzwgKbcO3DrO7hOQdhy2-B7G83rx1jtxn5KC-iTfGfhQSkq18LP4kypHM24Ia4ownA3BRNoxW1oAuh6_DzsPUQDT8Q/s6000/52305010622_4132897fb1_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIma1Sfex82sCTGUSZp7FF_uFcugPeFGn5nYV6Gm2u2XNhznXZdBFtkKPtZdcIM-PM-gFbgEIRTrSJUwaL0lfz0rZBTTEjNfyNzwgKbcO3DrO7hOQdhy2-B7G83rx1jtxn5KC-iTfGfhQSkq18LP4kypHM24Ia4ownA3BRNoxW1oAuh6_DzsPUQDT8Q/s320/52305010622_4132897fb1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Fall Creek Falls</td></tr></tbody></table>For more photos of the Fall Creek hike, </span><a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA3Ynd" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">please visit this Flickr album</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></div></span></span></h1><h1><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tCTP41_GDVRnmoD58gFHPeGBFnCv4pP5_CQ51tlQganXCGlzXJUqBJvn54jg2-q8gb8cAMCD73wrwSGRqPDj8U_dOeivt4RusLrChiy4n0bRnc1l2tiiJGIbme2tjshkLWSJD5QzhvuxqYBoEBiVp_Nw2dmOMzarpdbfBY-XYw0X1EMDqqd7yfK2Jw/s6000/52309338637_08eabba54d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tCTP41_GDVRnmoD58gFHPeGBFnCv4pP5_CQ51tlQganXCGlzXJUqBJvn54jg2-q8gb8cAMCD73wrwSGRqPDj8U_dOeivt4RusLrChiy4n0bRnc1l2tiiJGIbme2tjshkLWSJD5QzhvuxqYBoEBiVp_Nw2dmOMzarpdbfBY-XYw0X1EMDqqd7yfK2Jw/s320/52309338637_08eabba54d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the trail it used to be</td></tr></tbody></table>For more photos of the Susan Creek hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA4fSJ" target="_blank">please visit this Flickr album</a>.</span></div></h1>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183280373?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:45:16+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss2853" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183280373" class="jss2854"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss2855 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss2856"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss2857 jss2878 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss2855">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe><div></div>
<iframe id='mapmyfitness_route' src='https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183278054?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:44:19+00:00' height='401px' width='100%' frameborder='0' /><div class="jss3130" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183278054" class="jss3131"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3132 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3133"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3134 jss3155 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3132">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Fall Creek Falls, North Umpqua Highway, OR, USA43.3131881 -122.835731543.300698985272618 -122.85289763769531 43.325677214727378 -122.81856536230468tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-19185490717449212642022-08-07T08:00:00.000-07:002022-11-02T22:12:41.797-07:00Bullards Beach (North Loop)<p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrXubP00bvVVcHRw_VmCq9KoX9hpOSCrjJwgDC5iajVJZsCbL0d8GSUd7GXeY_LWrciv7vpNauRS3uDMBpypD1bRhpuYh_PSh1AwMRXza-B6CSRpWa_UBCLwVcoHMwkVPNxeb_eNH8NxW8f-Jrc2Wnw7VfHA6X3j9Mnvx_Dtutt2KCPqpthjypMFAMw/s6000/52280885657_daea012c34_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrXubP00bvVVcHRw_VmCq9KoX9hpOSCrjJwgDC5iajVJZsCbL0d8GSUd7GXeY_LWrciv7vpNauRS3uDMBpypD1bRhpuYh_PSh1AwMRXza-B6CSRpWa_UBCLwVcoHMwkVPNxeb_eNH8NxW8f-Jrc2Wnw7VfHA6X3j9Mnvx_Dtutt2KCPqpthjypMFAMw/s320/52280885657_daea012c34_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;">My planned hike to Nip and Tuck Lakes got summarily nipped and tucked. I had really enjoyed my last two hikes to the lakes; so much so, that I penciled in yet another hike there onto the <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Umpqua's</a> calendar. Unfortunately, before we could consummate the hike, a lightning storm swept up and down the Cascades leaving numerous wildfires in its wake. One such fire was inconveniently located near the Windigo Pass trailhead, putting an end to any hope of taking my friends to the lakes. The coast was currently not on fire, so <a href="https://stateparks.oregon.gov/index.cfm?do=park.profile&parkId=50" target="_blank">Bullards Beach State Park</a> became the replacement destination for no other reason than just because.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvnZq-p3E_wSGhZd9jJasBjAXXNWIgLq7TNSI5dHhZh6BSo4ddkxKyrUw4W79sqRK_aIIwCXcrPFtyGRgyNOOGnW60W679axKCOPcDk11mY4dfAQcUmum1COiMi-f_if0srn4IjLRCsT96TchsxioWtqtRy6T6NHxWEH1zJMGvC5R5Zo25axsb9r4bg/s6000/52281876438_1323b80cf2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvnZq-p3E_wSGhZd9jJasBjAXXNWIgLq7TNSI5dHhZh6BSo4ddkxKyrUw4W79sqRK_aIIwCXcrPFtyGRgyNOOGnW60W679axKCOPcDk11mY4dfAQcUmum1COiMi-f_if0srn4IjLRCsT96TchsxioWtqtRy6T6NHxWEH1zJMGvC5R5Zo25axsb9r4bg/s320/52281876438_1323b80cf2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map of the hiking route</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div><span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Prior to the official hike, I went out to the area to scout out a route that would involve the <a href="https://stateparks.oregon.gov/index.cfm?do=main.loadFile&load=_siteFiles%2Fpublications%2F%2FBullards_8_x14-web-final013916.pdf" target="_blank">park's horse trails</a> through the dunes and woods. The route cobbled together for this outing was a clockwise loop involving Cut Creek Trail, North Loop, Three Mares Trail, Pearls Loop, and the mostly paved path between the campground and beach.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3TqwL7cOuo6DAcXc_NW0gFZ7-a8dAAYAZ4wOoIrAsdgzDlKwtum66VRs87ty1I3t3OoOk9k6dcg8RhxgdBggqL752zwoUsdH5JDuTH8yHgkGbwpNk1k-alr_lDYhOS2Ygc5zWfp01VE3CboBZk7xawSeJvBZVk2Jno6mCFqV0iv9fk8dyS_q_iq7ug/s5955/52281867043_c24e767763_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3970" data-original-width="5955" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3TqwL7cOuo6DAcXc_NW0gFZ7-a8dAAYAZ4wOoIrAsdgzDlKwtum66VRs87ty1I3t3OoOk9k6dcg8RhxgdBggqL752zwoUsdH5JDuTH8yHgkGbwpNk1k-alr_lDYhOS2Ygc5zWfp01VE3CboBZk7xawSeJvBZVk2Jno6mCFqV0iv9fk8dyS_q_iq7ug/s320/52281867043_c24e767763_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandy track through the beachgrass</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I had been on the Cut Creek Trail before but that had been in February and pretty much all of the trail had been underwater then.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> However</span>, the warm summer sun had evaporated all the water that had been standing on the Cut Creek Trail during my last visit there. On this current outing, the new travail du jour was soft sand, miles and miles of soft sand that had leg muscles feeling the burn in no time flat. My people are going to kill me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFJd-cLhBHI1cbYTCbCiT23re6oIzTMXK__iHfRsypOM9eCmxyssuIwo3lWIXzXQwXHHZibsXxJcOwU_bvg0LC--0Oxc2HSSnqXCHW3FOVQw4baDkNW-sS7CWbGQh3T5xqAr20M_hH8HlfZtFVgGZRPzvRmHFn2cYW1xIG6j1sVL4jYHAGdumowxjYQ/s5538/52283140441_97111e6fc0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3692" data-original-width="5538" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFJd-cLhBHI1cbYTCbCiT23re6oIzTMXK__iHfRsypOM9eCmxyssuIwo3lWIXzXQwXHHZibsXxJcOwU_bvg0LC--0Oxc2HSSnqXCHW3FOVQw4baDkNW-sS7CWbGQh3T5xqAr20M_hH8HlfZtFVgGZRPzvRmHFn2cYW1xIG6j1sVL4jYHAGdumowxjYQ/s320/52283140441_97111e6fc0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost as lethal as deer</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Hiking all by myself in the middle of the coastal woods, I was happily lost in my own little head when a deer with a large rack of antlers jumped onto the trail in front of me, and then bounded away in panic around a bend. After performing some self-CPR to get my heart restarted, I resumed walking, wary of any other large creatures leaping onto the trail. The funny thing was that the path was surrounded on all sides by chest-high banks of "impenetrable" gorse, yet the stag had no problem disappearing into the thorny greenery.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggShxv9i-xatRAK15HAJSysQovPGC8iagWNbGe6kARpfDVjesrygR3ziPCTZTpuugZd5jY-xhA8x1U3_7cOKwX2K9sqaDkdFYqjGGqqZlCBOL7f9YIyDxKifpIwTx_TyMH7b7CIuWfYt3D3CIDHNJ8vVXj2xk5j65LWzbIskhCSSxTJ3BTP9eMUrCvHA/s6000/52283627940_b3cb677923_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggShxv9i-xatRAK15HAJSysQovPGC8iagWNbGe6kARpfDVjesrygR3ziPCTZTpuugZd5jY-xhA8x1U3_7cOKwX2K9sqaDkdFYqjGGqqZlCBOL7f9YIyDxKifpIwTx_TyMH7b7CIuWfYt3D3CIDHNJ8vVXj2xk5j65LWzbIskhCSSxTJ3BTP9eMUrCvHA/s320/52283627940_b3cb677923_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail heads inland away from the beach</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a mile or two, the shady woods that I had been trudging through began to transition to grassy and shrubby hinterlands inland of the beach foredunes. Small trees dotted the grassy landscape in an advertisement of the forest to come, the now and present being dominated by beachgrass waving in the wind. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3iv7s2qvxeEkDZ020-koo5ckyJ8kvdhILL75JuqgukiF-a5juZtjv-tAfHy1H45oCt78RiGOJbrSJNnc4Lun6_BlLXtNsIwRWMlfK4C6UhmiW9V1FAR4UWjvEvn9Mcil2Nc9p66Xaobv_s1c-8K_34cgyKEY6jGsS9Y-sfKQHcg85v80x29gRtWcsQ/s9667/52283621190_d2e07e569b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3887" data-original-width="9667" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3iv7s2qvxeEkDZ020-koo5ckyJ8kvdhILL75JuqgukiF-a5juZtjv-tAfHy1H45oCt78RiGOJbrSJNnc4Lun6_BlLXtNsIwRWMlfK4C6UhmiW9V1FAR4UWjvEvn9Mcil2Nc9p66Xaobv_s1c-8K_34cgyKEY6jGsS9Y-sfKQHcg85v80x29gRtWcsQ/s320/52283621190_d2e07e569b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of that dune scenery</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Cut Creek Trail came to an end before actually reaching its namesake creek. From there, I backtracked to the North Loop Trail which then led away from the beach through a series of dunes and woods. But all I cared about at that point was that soft sand which, if anything, had gotten softer in the dunes. At least it was getting hot, and yes, that is sarcasm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26AKbX8LScqKbvojHfct5qDdpPH6rIFEBW8MG3YzegIE8TEk5-mAk_voGLjo9lc5Rm1ubgcOaavvaL1Un57X7lOL7aVQ1hGw-OpfptleA-hBXo19tGSL9wJFzZGRJtx6Rrsgr__cGUPNkxhJfP1I_e_pi_3r3Ona6mWrzZcEROqUUkC7Qa0z6rj6Z0g/s6000/52290045043_a209dfe818_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26AKbX8LScqKbvojHfct5qDdpPH6rIFEBW8MG3YzegIE8TEk5-mAk_voGLjo9lc5Rm1ubgcOaavvaL1Un57X7lOL7aVQ1hGw-OpfptleA-hBXo19tGSL9wJFzZGRJtx6Rrsgr__cGUPNkxhJfP1I_e_pi_3r3Ona6mWrzZcEROqUUkC7Qa0z6rj6Z0g/s320/52290045043_a209dfe818_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love walking in soft sand? If<br />so, then you'll love this hike!<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />After that hot-hiking-in-the-dunes experience, I showed the hiking club some mercy, taking them in a counter-clockwise direction so as to beat the heat in the morning. As we marched, if trudging in soft sand could be called marching, it was actually a pleasant hike, given the cool air and deep blue sky above.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tGsw5-pnoOI3d_yk_mQiBNsflQbD2dgNnLCWlU9658sHGBu2wWAr70KINx-PSiwVc0lMxtvTU0-ibOuTiNglUdik4cjC2_7U4uvOoYUAUDkP4nSb4lRrWCtON4A3hLA_e9od_q4kQ2L8LoKoiL39w4NyZq4ejC4Q5XgZ_vEDzwzVd09QSycQ3BdwFg/s6000/52290035181_54fc8582ce_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tGsw5-pnoOI3d_yk_mQiBNsflQbD2dgNnLCWlU9658sHGBu2wWAr70KINx-PSiwVc0lMxtvTU0-ibOuTiNglUdik4cjC2_7U4uvOoYUAUDkP4nSb4lRrWCtON4A3hLA_e9od_q4kQ2L8LoKoiL39w4NyZq4ejC4Q5XgZ_vEDzwzVd09QSycQ3BdwFg/s320/52290035181_54fc8582ce_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the club hike went through open meadows</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As is our wont, the group had spread out along the trail and we all regathered at a grassy mound that overlooked Cut Creek. We couldn't really see the creek itself, just the valley that the creek had carved out through the dunes while on its way to the nearby ocean. Rampant vegetation had taken over the valley and no doubt Cut Creek was flowing somewhere within.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfn8mI0s_GLXcOnJoPEzL_4JIXA7Fuij8j8inpf-Z7GEXPVODb5W-8wZmbFndAlynrf39UstFXVFAydsT2k5YQauXZKDwh4GLf01o7juX6tmUR6kpHvU8-084_IFqmk4LlkkQBcvR49MvF2cycO310xGQJZqw-GZKq0YpVp4byzzPkOqhktiXhaGA7g/s6000/52290040413_ec3aa718cb_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfn8mI0s_GLXcOnJoPEzL_4JIXA7Fuij8j8inpf-Z7GEXPVODb5W-8wZmbFndAlynrf39UstFXVFAydsT2k5YQauXZKDwh4GLf01o7juX6tmUR6kpHvU8-084_IFqmk4LlkkQBcvR49MvF2cycO310xGQJZqw-GZKq0YpVp4byzzPkOqhktiXhaGA7g/s320/52290040413_ec3aa718cb_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After lunch, we headed to the beach</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we lunched at the overlook, tendrils of mist started wafting through the trees and grasses. A fog bank had been hanging out over the ocean all morning but now it apparently wanted to envelop the coast in its gray and ponderous embrace. That was our cue to don packs and recommence hiking.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexchJe2cvdHtnJPPB0qD0G0eFEQBPjrKDnS7G5fLdiRqhyllOzu_5xlwcQ9N2ots8U7avL_KmbQf8gV9WE4JT4XutwxNa-KY3_oDGHXS4NVgVvoFT0ZYLm_2TOYq-6r2WuRqskeN00xPCscBY2S0cqQadbw6ZRBVh1rK-BShSDoisik_RDp_qVtM5GA/s6000/52290524730_a5155e2142_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexchJe2cvdHtnJPPB0qD0G0eFEQBPjrKDnS7G5fLdiRqhyllOzu_5xlwcQ9N2ots8U7avL_KmbQf8gV9WE4JT4XutwxNa-KY3_oDGHXS4NVgVvoFT0ZYLm_2TOYq-6r2WuRqskeN00xPCscBY2S0cqQadbw6ZRBVh1rK-BShSDoisik_RDp_qVtM5GA/s320/52290524730_a5155e2142_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life's a beach, even if you can't see it</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Because I am such an awesome hike leader, we walked on the beach instead of on the two-plus miles of soft sand ever so ready to make leg muscles burn on the Cut Creek Trail. However, the fog came in thick and visibility was such that as we hiked on the beach, we could see neither surf nor foredune. A band of horseback riders trotted by, looking like a spectral posse from the underworld. All we could see was gray and I briefly thought about making everybody hold hands so as not to get lost.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuoqh8OxhcesH42yvjHmdp9ucekV8ebb1tizaPOwlyc_2I5iv2jtbReXb-ug9DF6uwda-CIoU2s7UJAc4lVaLPwPfzV_QD46zrqCTr-KiNtMxKuQwuOXvy1HwSl76GMFjnPaQZWMDA0Pn66UOmlHIpBBjJbkF-Xv3XXHMT4iy1cdxk3Oljwlr3-VS87w/s6000/52290032656_a53a8d7056_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuoqh8OxhcesH42yvjHmdp9ucekV8ebb1tizaPOwlyc_2I5iv2jtbReXb-ug9DF6uwda-CIoU2s7UJAc4lVaLPwPfzV_QD46zrqCTr-KiNtMxKuQwuOXvy1HwSl76GMFjnPaQZWMDA0Pn66UOmlHIpBBjJbkF-Xv3XXHMT4iy1cdxk3Oljwlr3-VS87w/s320/52290032656_a53a8d7056_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My comrades begin to doubt<br />my leadership qualities</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The exits off the beach are labeled with large yellow signs, enumerated according to mile number. However, we really couldn't see them in the thick fog so I kept checking my GPS to monitor our progress. Fortunately, the fog lifted a bit as we neared the Coquille River and there was no mistaking the sign for Exit 147, which is where we needed to get off.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnRHErpkUnlwN8fHYEtqKNKe0i0RGYS-WHxcIs_AsKAvm1W0aU5Ca5v1lLHoA69n80YJPCnwF_K8ZZzYBIsUEL1reNJKbxW2QYy8RMf4MDtFn_qN8_E7epZdjfZXi5hkmmoaaaNG84qRXkAC-f6j0F8NQOPSx1jNFMHe_cIIdygfkDhvAY0X0QkbnHw/s6000/52290028911_e2e5c094cc_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnRHErpkUnlwN8fHYEtqKNKe0i0RGYS-WHxcIs_AsKAvm1W0aU5Ca5v1lLHoA69n80YJPCnwF_K8ZZzYBIsUEL1reNJKbxW2QYy8RMf4MDtFn_qN8_E7epZdjfZXi5hkmmoaaaNG84qRXkAC-f6j0F8NQOPSx1jNFMHe_cIIdygfkDhvAY0X0QkbnHw/s320/52290028911_e2e5c094cc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John partakes of King Neptune's pedicure</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We did get seven miles of hiking in and while the route may not have been the most spectacular in the world, it sure beat hiking in the middle of a forest fire at Windigo Pass. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Eeq78S0Jc2OSs-_qbH83YA6Fap372HAwZXEYAC9T_SWX7bTCfQ2SyEIxoG9wwgy_dMS1Lq7AOrPZOQ-jrgPU8b2IPJ5klgsbQZN3L_VD7Votzi84rqSx8GAQgvtxseS8UcD0jlmpDwo7dmX7NX0kcf6HPo-pingO4J0Rx4krZJrwjOtOr7tYyMzFgQ/s6000/52290301334_e5c3073f86_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Eeq78S0Jc2OSs-_qbH83YA6Fap372HAwZXEYAC9T_SWX7bTCfQ2SyEIxoG9wwgy_dMS1Lq7AOrPZOQ-jrgPU8b2IPJ5klgsbQZN3L_VD7Votzi84rqSx8GAQgvtxseS8UcD0jlmpDwo7dmX7NX0kcf6HPo-pingO4J0Rx4krZJrwjOtOr7tYyMzFgQ/s320/52290301334_e5c3073f86_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">And they were never heard from again</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, please visit the Flickr albums (<a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA2HUN" target="_blank">Cut Creek Trail to North Loop </a>and <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA3dYK" target="_blank">North Loop to Bullards Beach</a>.<iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183274127?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:31:52+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss3070" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183274127" class="jss3071"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3072 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3073"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3074 jss3095 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3072">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div>
<iframe id='mapmyfitness_route' src='https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5183273911?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-29T03:32:32+00:00' height='401px' width='100%' frameborder='0' /><div class="jss3070" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5183273911" class="jss3071"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3072 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss3073"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss3074 jss3095 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss3072">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-1319291833293227812022-07-20T08:00:00.471-07:002022-11-02T19:42:51.222-07:00Stuart Falls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ymwko1k5AryFfkGhIYEFN8sLIuO1dGfsaYH-NvFiEpb2SZ_yZF1yrl0gQ2Xnz6TrRyQKCFUQhkqlko4fREzVxDpLt_qN7L9X57alavkrqWyHAALmK56qk8QGUyatkBtr1vSmIMItGINnmWtQ4xdaGYTSpwRq-r8gJbijMhmju89YS_iN2s4Ut7HsEQ/s6000/52270827093_20a8ed4fbd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ymwko1k5AryFfkGhIYEFN8sLIuO1dGfsaYH-NvFiEpb2SZ_yZF1yrl0gQ2Xnz6TrRyQKCFUQhkqlko4fREzVxDpLt_qN7L9X57alavkrqWyHAALmK56qk8QGUyatkBtr1vSmIMItGINnmWtQ4xdaGYTSpwRq-r8gJbijMhmju89YS_iN2s4Ut7HsEQ/s320/52270827093_20a8ed4fbd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">In 2017, the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_Cascades_Complex_fires" target="_blank">Blanket Fire</a> burned around 5,000 acres of the southwest corner of Crater Lake National Park, along with a much larger tract of the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/rogue-siskiyou" target="_blank">Rogue River National Forest</a>. Flash forward five years and the area is well on its way to recovery and is beautiful in its own stark way. However, the lack of viable forest meant that much of our thirteen-mile hike to Stuart Falls was done in open sunlight, which can get pretty warm in this summer of global warming. And surprise of surprises, the heat got to me.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJlt9kN9a49EafxYfdfvLOzKYWrGb2zCPkKJwLuR_DqMlNETzeZY0qZ-scuWfMQ5RSTmqUwsVV_gOjLSlDw20bTcn_DzOGALxON5fT1onNaJTSQpGcddBfnm2bMiJF1f9gRi-Pm0AhT0dFcL966YMgz1wdlAJWoDf-QlHiLtHFt036IxoXNf55Hsg86Q/s6000/52270827558_36871bb594_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJlt9kN9a49EafxYfdfvLOzKYWrGb2zCPkKJwLuR_DqMlNETzeZY0qZ-scuWfMQ5RSTmqUwsVV_gOjLSlDw20bTcn_DzOGALxON5fT1onNaJTSQpGcddBfnm2bMiJF1f9gRi-Pm0AhT0dFcL966YMgz1wdlAJWoDf-QlHiLtHFt036IxoXNf55Hsg86Q/s320/52270827558_36871bb594_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"But Richard said this hike was easy!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is a shorter route to Stuart Falls that approaches from the west but I'm not sure if that trail or trailhead is open, given the fire that wreaked so much havoc in the area in 2017. Besides which, there's so much more glory to be gained by hiking the thirteen mile route beginning from <a href="https://www.nps.gov/crla/index.htm" target="_blank">Crater Lake National Park</a>. I enticed Cleve, Terry, Edwin, and Missy to come along by telling them it was only ten miles long and it was all downhill, purposely omitting the part about having to walk uphill in the hot sun on the way back.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg4c9QzT-lQB0tu-f9BdWuyR1rRtDQaOaupZqcLq_8tL_-ksh2zmzSU_L5Ix02ihNiCBBWgwTO_0ebGq_KKLYZrjcm44ksKDErUgmdMMuDVNJuVbhqU8u22db6AR4OWqAthRQJ8cXBgKLMpBI-HxSoKoVsAYm3j0rVnMA2MuutsPz730D4XWq1kG9mg/s6000/52271306415_4392279458_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg4c9QzT-lQB0tu-f9BdWuyR1rRtDQaOaupZqcLq_8tL_-ksh2zmzSU_L5Ix02ihNiCBBWgwTO_0ebGq_KKLYZrjcm44ksKDErUgmdMMuDVNJuVbhqU8u22db6AR4OWqAthRQJ8cXBgKLMpBI-HxSoKoVsAYm3j0rVnMA2MuutsPz730D4XWq1kG9mg/s320/52271306415_4392279458_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pumice Flat Trail was flat and full of pumice</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We started out on the <a href="http://www.craterlakeinstitute.com/what-to-do/planning-your-visit/hiking/trails-index/pumice-flat-trail/" target="_blank">Pumice Flat Trail</a>, which basically follows an old roadbed through some relatively thin forest. In keeping with its name though, the one overriding feature of the Pumice Flat Trail is that it is virtually flat for three miles in what is a rather utilitarian route to the<a href="https://www.pcta.org/" target="_blank"> Pacific Crest Trail</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNKHTLP8IepRxp5L1a7KaUfqOst3yWRe4dNwVOyHe2BvQREg-fLeyK4O8i3JYHqfCaOA_Cdiy6n1-AXiA6KJ4Nri_jnUO5bGXTcZXIT_dhZNMlaL9aSzYtuHkmQStG5AU4G_kwsjfk6aPVFh6DanLhYXbXMsxXVhFl71c5qpSU02yjkCQigWJkkOP6Q/s6000/52270817968_90c5d97743_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNKHTLP8IepRxp5L1a7KaUfqOst3yWRe4dNwVOyHe2BvQREg-fLeyK4O8i3JYHqfCaOA_Cdiy6n1-AXiA6KJ4Nri_jnUO5bGXTcZXIT_dhZNMlaL9aSzYtuHkmQStG5AU4G_kwsjfk6aPVFh6DanLhYXbXMsxXVhFl71c5qpSU02yjkCQigWJkkOP6Q/s320/52270817968_90c5d97743_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical forest scene on the Stuart Falls Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We'd only be on the PCT for a hiker's minute though, as we'd peel off onto the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=69442" target="_blank">Stuart Falls Trail</a> and basically commence the real hike. Here, the PCT runs along a ridge perched above the headwaters of Red Blanket Creek and the Stuart Falls Trail would then drop us several miles down into the creek’s canyon. The fire damage was readily apparent as the Stuart Falls Trail was surrounded by a vast expanse of dead trees.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpEMWPxxiNPlzBLXNG1-hho_m84R9Nh_vJV7JMIGO92LngVv_qITjdcwzYLTQ5VhJ8Hsiqf11ATnpFnk9dRZyXyHagrOITDXIpzll9nSNeWj6DiJQgzQO4g5XYcKUC8yJA6oX8DnhCV8bOkcY0E34wYZIxHAr200y_nkeR_LDr7PRUxTAVvtKLfBMpQ/s5349/52269831517_19ea0d72e4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3566" data-original-width="5349" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpEMWPxxiNPlzBLXNG1-hho_m84R9Nh_vJV7JMIGO92LngVv_qITjdcwzYLTQ5VhJ8Hsiqf11ATnpFnk9dRZyXyHagrOITDXIpzll9nSNeWj6DiJQgzQO4g5XYcKUC8yJA6oX8DnhCV8bOkcY0E34wYZIxHAr200y_nkeR_LDr7PRUxTAVvtKLfBMpQ/s320/52269831517_19ea0d72e4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paintbrush livened up the rock gardens</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Despite the death and destruction surrounding the faint (at times) trail, the hike was eminently beautiful. Green grass, fireweed, and bracken fern carpeted the ground beneath the tree skeletons in vegetative homage to the increased post-fire sunlight. Rocky outcroppings cropped up above the trail, and rock gardens abounded. Stuffed into cracks between individual boulders were stonecrop, blooming pale yellow; and paintbrush with its eye-scalding bright red color. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtjJ_XQ57m2mxrNNU5Z911ijsdeL0jjH_Vfks0ioxW5eJSXwtYOuUWLJNvs2zRZfvvqydzqfe5InGOM9yGXEFAZKpkjBqD7MRJfIYfVaRr7fkGWg-SdIuJObBd7iWLA5O2nE7aTQPCC2v1PD8SPmkDcjdeS0VX-ah7O7E32Cp47qm7BxPRpMKCtJfFQ/s6000/52269828937_74917b2b78_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtjJ_XQ57m2mxrNNU5Z911ijsdeL0jjH_Vfks0ioxW5eJSXwtYOuUWLJNvs2zRZfvvqydzqfe5InGOM9yGXEFAZKpkjBqD7MRJfIYfVaRr7fkGWg-SdIuJObBd7iWLA5O2nE7aTQPCC2v1PD8SPmkDcjdeS0VX-ah7O7E32Cp47qm7BxPRpMKCtJfFQ/s320/52269828937_74917b2b78_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If the trees were living, we wouldn't be<br />able to see Tom and Jerry Mountain(s)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'm beginning to sound like an advocate of burn areas as I continue to extol the virtues thereof, and one of those virtues was increased visibility due to the dearth of live trees. Readily visible, the nearest peak to us was the symmetrical volcanic cone of Goose Egg. There was a complex of more rugged peaks to the west that were Tom and Jerry Mountain, located in the Seven Lakes area. And let us not forget the disturbingly-named Bald Peak looming on the north side of Red Blanket Creek's canyon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9BijjLexjW6pI244Xvo2rF-e6eqwwWRMJ8zG3dtKGB40nis6oW_B42ObsiM8AoehqRLrGKNqxuoJWGAXXKCbnM8KhIE-K8ml_n93I0iBAfN7rlGlLcUA2twNAVYp-G7ThktT4I7y6Xmu_XDLQxMGOoFS8xKU2231w_3qi5rM-k9n0RuYRhqWhtqLcQ/s6000/52269828047_0fa1eccf66_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9BijjLexjW6pI244Xvo2rF-e6eqwwWRMJ8zG3dtKGB40nis6oW_B42ObsiM8AoehqRLrGKNqxuoJWGAXXKCbnM8KhIE-K8ml_n93I0iBAfN7rlGlLcUA2twNAVYp-G7ThktT4I7y6Xmu_XDLQxMGOoFS8xKU2231w_3qi5rM-k9n0RuYRhqWhtqLcQ/s320/52269828047_0fa1eccf66_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sketchy trail, to put it mildly</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Because of the abundance of meadows and flourishing vegetation, the trail was overgrown and very sketchy, to state it charitably. But while it was challenging to stay on course, it never got to the point where the tread completely disappeared. More concerning was the continual loss of elevation as we hiked. It was nice to hike downhill but we all knew that an arduous hike back up to the PCT awaited us on the return leg. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeLDSQIk8Qj1ldzXO-gH2L80Saixk64WOUNXR7NJxt3KcFA3qI2wv4cvp1QJf95qO9UZJ1lh_2iRZC0u4BWwAheaGmhc5-93q3YaSk81fZ6BlsgP-fldkBt66O9Pv2wglPmfj0WAXmQx5aTRfoEqDCzgN8dH01I2MiQGDyxotjC0aMXylsfzO0op8Og/s5498/52270788151_dac67991dd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5298" data-original-width="5498" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeLDSQIk8Qj1ldzXO-gH2L80Saixk64WOUNXR7NJxt3KcFA3qI2wv4cvp1QJf95qO9UZJ1lh_2iRZC0u4BWwAheaGmhc5-93q3YaSk81fZ6BlsgP-fldkBt66O9Pv2wglPmfj0WAXmQx5aTRfoEqDCzgN8dH01I2MiQGDyxotjC0aMXylsfzO0op8Og/s320/52270788151_dac67991dd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stuart Falls was simply beautiful</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Finally, we arrived at a backpacking campsite next to Red Blanket Creek. And just upstream was Stuart Falls itself, delicately fanning white across a cliff comprised of dark black rock. Much oohing and aahing took place and we all scrambled upstream to the base of the falls, happy to bask in the cool mist emanating from the cascade.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGN_MVHnsT4zBaGQ9GzKkBu0jbGWA-igVYKP3qQUFncv8ZPF7BSb3ocfmwH4zfHqQS7N9Q8yItKuFB-cPGAL-NM2VpBoERS7KAS4yvGAH23-Hn53BzVOg-eyHTTGmWLqZyeMRhFM9X4grcJsd43rb5G1S51irQ1BAPuiv32pGeiAyg6Uxts-9YITDuA/s6000/52272439655_d9a6f6ea92_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGN_MVHnsT4zBaGQ9GzKkBu0jbGWA-igVYKP3qQUFncv8ZPF7BSb3ocfmwH4zfHqQS7N9Q8yItKuFB-cPGAL-NM2VpBoERS7KAS4yvGAH23-Hn53BzVOg-eyHTTGmWLqZyeMRhFM9X4grcJsd43rb5G1S51irQ1BAPuiv32pGeiAyg6Uxts-9YITDuA/s320/52272439655_d9a6f6ea92_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All those trees and no shade</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a lengthy lunch and general all-around gawkery at the picturesque waterfall, it was time to begin the slog back up to the PCT. By now the day had warmed up considerably and with no shade to shelter us from the sun, the hiking became as scorching as an illicit affair. I noticed that my legs felt tired and my mouth was as dry as the dust my listless feet were kicking up, no matter how much water I drank. My real cause for worry came when the dry heaves started. The struggle was real but I hiked piecemeal, making frequent stops along the way. So not fun.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsFc7v4Rls1tD1HasJ9WDR5eMKoWFDem_5ZfTyQZ9hZScqy6GUqqzEBKwbzR9azcOu9ntJD4h7iA3bYArfhSOrf5gyUCXBsJ0oZQFVSyuCz2Plsk-hG9M5KU2lxfqkN4AqBFxb7jFlm1Xrh0AQ2ywo4kawG_vyi5Uw_1lqkzCkvMbZmia7O-MiynLUcg/s5787/52271062709_3071bfb385_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3858" data-original-width="5787" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsFc7v4Rls1tD1HasJ9WDR5eMKoWFDem_5ZfTyQZ9hZScqy6GUqqzEBKwbzR9azcOu9ntJD4h7iA3bYArfhSOrf5gyUCXBsJ0oZQFVSyuCz2Plsk-hG9M5KU2lxfqkN4AqBFxb7jFlm1Xrh0AQ2ywo4kawG_vyi5Uw_1lqkzCkvMbZmia7O-MiynLUcg/s320/52271062709_3071bfb385_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life flourishes at the feet of dead trees</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was so glad to reach the PCT, for it would be flat and slightly downhill to the trailhead. Even though the forest surrounding the trail was thin and sparse, faint shade is better than no shade at all, like in the tree graveyard within Red Blanket Creek's canyon. The hike was closed out in the lengthening afternoon shadows and despite the travails of the heat, I really did enjoy the beauty of the scenery I had been retching in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WObybndhIcNNyr2_BDAIBgAxY0EspF6CbdhbY9iD0WkcNLj6Jfqh3BnxUTQ8a6w9ylMqBgkCiKaUaxMHHJfjtmaEmDpZH7ByO2DkRbtnwOzWycDsk4A8UF9FwPqbHm3Fc0OiE9S9qMWLt7G0jOHEZCqB-A5xamUM8o-syYezlfAWTTkSojIJakhT8Q/s6000/52270812398_664ed71ae0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WObybndhIcNNyr2_BDAIBgAxY0EspF6CbdhbY9iD0WkcNLj6Jfqh3BnxUTQ8a6w9ylMqBgkCiKaUaxMHHJfjtmaEmDpZH7ByO2DkRbtnwOzWycDsk4A8UF9FwPqbHm3Fc0OiE9S9qMWLt7G0jOHEZCqB-A5xamUM8o-syYezlfAWTTkSojIJakhT8Q/s320/52270812398_664ed71ae0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical scenery along the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At the trailhead, Missy doled out seltzer water from an ice chest she had hidden in her car. My recovery was immediate and total upon drinking the precious liquid, although I think we would have all been better served if she would have toted the ice chest down to Stuart Falls.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6PCQ-MWPcgZisQE9S7PwOo7mFkjk0lfqxBYj1lkstg5mcBqtK33zZxGJu3wQlE4NbZ8_JvGOHUdQbNCdnVDUvQHxCfPMM3fuuRmtmFFQtcnMYIKIrQGReYfrlqAJpFo4DvEUlmoAm1f-owi2w6fEwozr6NqloJwWlcpdByxRF1zeTpkGpj1WDL7F_A/s5781/52271054829_c823842d3f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3854" data-original-width="5781" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6PCQ-MWPcgZisQE9S7PwOo7mFkjk0lfqxBYj1lkstg5mcBqtK33zZxGJu3wQlE4NbZ8_JvGOHUdQbNCdnVDUvQHxCfPMM3fuuRmtmFFQtcnMYIKIrQGReYfrlqAJpFo4DvEUlmoAm1f-owi2w6fEwozr6NqloJwWlcpdByxRF1zeTpkGpj1WDL7F_A/s320/52271054829_c823842d3f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Blanket Creek, below Stuart Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjA28kU" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5178324148?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-26T05:34:01+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5178324148" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Lodgepole Picnic Area, Crater Lake Hwy, Klamath Falls, OR 97601, USA42.8388492 -122.143559642.835702305959956 -122.14785113442383 42.841996094040041 -122.13926806557618tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-1057382330085283072022-07-14T08:00:00.530-07:002022-10-05T17:12:31.982-07:00Iron Mountain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqGrIqFaxK8guQHeqknn4qhJPL60TmfXAkXHRfviwcREVawvea-nKVzs5cWly47ZTy2q5R1BZpeH2RhcECXZ8cbNBQlidVGAju2ecdeLJNpAc5HdB34mFTxHZTbO0YUHhqaYfJbMGKRJ4C6ziW3Km8asbWNnYxYg64hdpH3IcXR5pXCTgmgrvATQsmQ/s10845/52240766993_d8ba8fd821_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3708" data-original-width="10845" height="109" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqGrIqFaxK8guQHeqknn4qhJPL60TmfXAkXHRfviwcREVawvea-nKVzs5cWly47ZTy2q5R1BZpeH2RhcECXZ8cbNBQlidVGAju2ecdeLJNpAc5HdB34mFTxHZTbO0YUHhqaYfJbMGKRJ4C6ziW3Km8asbWNnYxYg64hdpH3IcXR5pXCTgmgrvATQsmQ/s320/52240766993_d8ba8fd821_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Who knew <a href="https://peakbagger.com/peak.aspx?pid=56184" target="_blank">Iron Mountain</a> was such an amazing wildflower hike? The short answer is everyone but me, but that's not entirely accurate, either. I had heard rumors about the wildflower display on Cone Peak and Iron Mountain but had only ever gone on this hike either in winter or late autumn. During those two seasons, any vegetation capable of decorating the two peaks were either all dried up and shriveled like a mummified ancestor, or buried under a layer of snow like a mummified Eskimo ancestor. So, it was high time to make a July sortie out to the Tombstone Pass area and have a look-see.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNlYTUl7eB1vO1DNKYEeUFE9WGqBCNKyoY5BzTPVWvlmDKUeHKPd75TT7zFz7amB0xVM_0Xe9T5NwaLghNctP48VcQsZJD5BcAkVt4d28gFJNvQ2GGdKmRU8l_WVgjUmd272XQaUT49qhbAdMmrGTlyl8ibWzUqDSOoAikOXraPRVFGz1HvzNJv2Hhw/s6000/52238793915_0b4e3ec6d6_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNlYTUl7eB1vO1DNKYEeUFE9WGqBCNKyoY5BzTPVWvlmDKUeHKPd75TT7zFz7amB0xVM_0Xe9T5NwaLghNctP48VcQsZJD5BcAkVt4d28gFJNvQ2GGdKmRU8l_WVgjUmd272XQaUT49qhbAdMmrGTlyl8ibWzUqDSOoAikOXraPRVFGz1HvzNJv2Hhw/s320/52238793915_0b4e3ec6d6_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail slices through some of<br />that Tombstone Prairie greenery</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Accompanied by trusty side-kick Missy, I set out on the Santiam Wagon Road which immediately dropped down into Tombstone Prairie. Here, the verdant meadows of the prairie reposed in the valley laying between Cone Peak and Browder Ridge. Rampant greenery flourished under a deep blue sky and already we were off to a fine start.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXx9e8m3Rve6w64KpATaQQeND2NPxJexCKe2VoM6SwJiRPiyiFuQsURTpjos7Z8gh9Y8xzfpzaeXHM-gcE4Gszit2xEaN6xgJjCx9D60PI4Lz4GrgY_DLwJAizeCB4oWkmp3vaXVP9DStnKifLgHJU4cwN7KlCtf1xLZIL5Rh7K6io5H5illdfbTcMw/s5343/52238286601_18c14f3cd1_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3562" data-original-width="5343" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXx9e8m3Rve6w64KpATaQQeND2NPxJexCKe2VoM6SwJiRPiyiFuQsURTpjos7Z8gh9Y8xzfpzaeXHM-gcE4Gszit2xEaN6xgJjCx9D60PI4Lz4GrgY_DLwJAizeCB4oWkmp3vaXVP9DStnKifLgHJU4cwN7KlCtf1xLZIL5Rh7K6io5H5illdfbTcMw/s320/52238286601_18c14f3cd1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Columbia tiger lily, always elegant and eye-catching</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After an appreciative gawk-stop at the green prairie, we grabbed the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recarea/?recid=4342" target="_blank">Cone Peak Trail</a> and began heading uphill in earnest. At least the hiking was done in a beautifully shaded forest which gave rise to more greenery and a different cast of wildflowers to admire, causing us to almost forget we were walking uphill. The forest floor was strewn with queen's cup, Sitka valerian, Columbia windflower, and other white-colored flowers. Representing the non-white end of the color spectrum were peavine, Columbia tiger lily, woodland penstemon, and a small reef of Merten's coralroot</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-eZTy2DM4wynGM4jXSpWxkpOVpOxVle9YrQT5RYBmZvsQIDrdUZUlhUNccP5wzl18Hm8S-wQg1fU4Amy-ysLn5K5kAAv6Vcmv4JJOks1jEjZAkYAWBnP8vABGPbBV7aJvoiMJbyOQLtBureqZGhbMgn-OtaY37f99VD3WFVVae9ACc3Xt7W0QMKsAg/s6000/52240718538_409bf5e6cd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-eZTy2DM4wynGM4jXSpWxkpOVpOxVle9YrQT5RYBmZvsQIDrdUZUlhUNccP5wzl18Hm8S-wQg1fU4Amy-ysLn5K5kAAv6Vcmv4JJOks1jEjZAkYAWBnP8vABGPbBV7aJvoiMJbyOQLtBureqZGhbMgn-OtaY37f99VD3WFVVae9ACc3Xt7W0QMKsAg/s320/52240718538_409bf5e6cd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden yarrow, one of the brightest flowers around</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Maybe it was a pre-existing condition, but our opinion was that the flowers in the forest were pretty spectacular. Nothing could ever top this. Oh, we were naive then, so early on in our hike. After a mile or two of steady uphill walking, the trail began to break out into intermittent rock gardens with golden yarrow, rock penstemon, and stonecrop stuffed into the cracks between rocks. Nearby, bloomed single specimens of dark purple larkspur, hinting at the larkspur show in our near future.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-twzNdBDhIwCpy-qJ3Xu-wt07KTXZji8Cn-GhuVzWC13v-Txm8QmLdknuTOFZZ7Epo7iKyVQzbknwLwM5ylM32mq1x5CiRdvDHZuVPtMErT9lsmdrfyhwTkK_-MQUfqkVlDaZuSD9FqUG6Zpj_Uq0FH3JEAWb2HU3dntboVJFQ4PGaqVif1VUPglRww/s6000/52239774317_370dff552c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-twzNdBDhIwCpy-qJ3Xu-wt07KTXZji8Cn-GhuVzWC13v-Txm8QmLdknuTOFZZ7Epo7iKyVQzbknwLwM5ylM32mq1x5CiRdvDHZuVPtMErT9lsmdrfyhwTkK_-MQUfqkVlDaZuSD9FqUG6Zpj_Uq0FH3JEAWb2HU3dntboVJFQ4PGaqVif1VUPglRww/s320/52239774317_370dff552c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The larkspur hordes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One larkspur is elegantly beautiful but multiply that by a factor of 4.7 googols and you have the Cone Peak experience in summation. The trail passed through open areas with massive armies of larkspur marching forward to champion the cause of all things purple. Interspersed among the larkspur hordes were occasional specimens of white larkspur, something I had never seen before. The purple meadows were simply amazing and beyond words, although it seems I've managed to come up with a few.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRBpMjkyy886mIQ3Ajgy_RsgeU7Uq6CCcmAtA5IHeqXVk_kL0Vsopb4Zy6ghYbnfPyyXqHIOghcpsJBktBqNgh0_ZBqE44LgWua3x2ZyP8jqSdttLKEJLXMbYpNOt4FQ4xSu6kN6fwty5JsKb7VKLTC87Ku9-0jXVoGw-r8h2nSzurUNQ_Q683D8hJQ/s6000/52240762588_56a53b60d4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRBpMjkyy886mIQ3Ajgy_RsgeU7Uq6CCcmAtA5IHeqXVk_kL0Vsopb4Zy6ghYbnfPyyXqHIOghcpsJBktBqNgh0_ZBqE44LgWua3x2ZyP8jqSdttLKEJLXMbYpNOt4FQ4xSu6kN6fwty5JsKb7VKLTC87Ku9-0jXVoGw-r8h2nSzurUNQ_Q683D8hJQ/s320/52240762588_56a53b60d4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cone Peak looms above its wildflower gardens</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Eventually the path made its way into the pumice barrens below Cone Peak, although they were not as barren as I have seen them in winter. A veritable rainbow of colored petals resided at the end of various flower stalks, splotching the slopes of Cone Peak with color, like a geologic paint palette. All hiking came to a screeching halt as we perused and/or photographed the fields of flowers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsBeMPmD20dXG-jkBoYXyftRx1kJY7vw4l5d6Zp1XgIcPXmEFNz9AoJK8oLAeksjFexLIJapUy_4MpdDTPrW4t3vYqCGiKEuWikxxBXDgUz_R0J9jbWXs0ox4nZxUS4-oquVVlg6tdnAiad3i662OJAjZpcQtHb1-Ysd_717-BFhwZGTRqquj30AlrQ/s6000/52239748102_88ebef4079_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsBeMPmD20dXG-jkBoYXyftRx1kJY7vw4l5d6Zp1XgIcPXmEFNz9AoJK8oLAeksjFexLIJapUy_4MpdDTPrW4t3vYqCGiKEuWikxxBXDgUz_R0J9jbWXs0ox4nZxUS4-oquVVlg6tdnAiad3i662OJAjZpcQtHb1-Ysd_717-BFhwZGTRqquj30AlrQ/s320/52239748102_88ebef4079_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South Peak rises next to Cone Peak</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Even without the wildflowers, the loop hike around Cone Peak and Iron Mountain is pretty cool. Views of nearby peaks abound and to the east of Cone Peak, rise South Peak, Echo Mountain, and North Peak, seemingly placed there just for hikers to admire. Apparently, the colorful flower displays are not limited to just Cone Peak, for the other mountains sported large swaths of yellow on their shoulders, to go along with their green meadows.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8abc9VbjJC5ASqv9wj4D5ejzdReBsrE10Cfuy2cyd8VpMDCYzlh-n7Cqb5DwtMlu9AUxt972N5Lkfn6wJv5ELXQgPK-3axKy0Bv0yC3HHjIoxeWADmHFUvOwHeS8i62lhUIfcL3HYRLxH-qaEPyzaGVPSgxknqyd_8O2OF9szQUt8JM0AJyvD61GGPA/s5883/52242153062_974b9596fc_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3922" data-original-width="5883" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8abc9VbjJC5ASqv9wj4D5ejzdReBsrE10Cfuy2cyd8VpMDCYzlh-n7Cqb5DwtMlu9AUxt972N5Lkfn6wJv5ELXQgPK-3axKy0Bv0yC3HHjIoxeWADmHFUvOwHeS8i62lhUIfcL3HYRLxH-qaEPyzaGVPSgxknqyd_8O2OF9szQUt8JM0AJyvD61GGPA/s320/52242153062_974b9596fc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy leads the charge up Iron Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After several miles of mouths-agape hiking through the scenery and wildflowers, we rounded Iron Mountain by hiking through a shady forest of mossy fir trees before intersecting with the Iron Mountain Trail. Yup, it was time to <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/willamette/recarea/?recid=4345" target="_blank">hike up Iron Mountain</a> itself, and this trail definitely put the "up" in "yup"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnUmS0zKTR22qESpnW-ZMdLaDSJaXnDEWvmRCS5A-_zC8bDEVW3YOehS6Cl1ZR15MgOCRe5KOvfCVz1sgspRXz4njRV7d94-TB-yveP1gAYt9wBn4a3m34ey_8g82n6vimzlIjNYjjjmjV4-DKkaR8khc0ijyH-Q21hhfSa2CxyZsfhb5bv9Da8GZvg/s6000/52243117236_06c3b54d97_o%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnUmS0zKTR22qESpnW-ZMdLaDSJaXnDEWvmRCS5A-_zC8bDEVW3YOehS6Cl1ZR15MgOCRe5KOvfCVz1sgspRXz4njRV7d94-TB-yveP1gAYt9wBn4a3m34ey_8g82n6vimzlIjNYjjjmjV4-DKkaR8khc0ijyH-Q21hhfSa2CxyZsfhb5bv9Da8GZvg/s320/52243117236_06c3b54d97_o%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dizzying view from the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Back and forth and always up, the switchbacking trail went to and fro through the ever ubiquitous meadows and wildflowers, affording me the opportunity to gawk or rest, depending on who you listen to. Iron Mountain is a rugged beast, and accordingly, we hiked past a series of rocky outcroppings, jagged cliffs, and one lone arch. The elevation gained served up ever increasing views of the surrounding river valleys and mountains.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6mQHf3QDnPX1srFanPEWOEDo0-4nlwqzZRWc97XjDghJWyAk-qnG8wNs9nMIEw6ITfxt7-Xi7pNJh0qn4s356OZYNECFVhtM8YtWZXjD-bmbjud4bZwkB65u5T-4v28FBeOJ0jkZ96Z64k2QmgpaaG9imqgVthvweIqKZK9ivQ5lACGU5-f0d7tplDw/s5877/52243114756_77b3de3795_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3918" data-original-width="5877" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6mQHf3QDnPX1srFanPEWOEDo0-4nlwqzZRWc97XjDghJWyAk-qnG8wNs9nMIEw6ITfxt7-Xi7pNJh0qn4s356OZYNECFVhtM8YtWZXjD-bmbjud4bZwkB65u5T-4v28FBeOJ0jkZ96Z64k2QmgpaaG9imqgVthvweIqKZK9ivQ5lACGU5-f0d7tplDw/s320/52243114756_77b3de3795_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Jefferson was like a ghostly pimple</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is a wooden observation deck on the Iron Mountain summit and a 360 degree panorama that allowed us to play the Name-That-Peak game, although a nearby signboard inspired some of us to cheat. Beginning with Diamond Peak to the south, the Cascades stretched north in a successive chain of volcanoes, the taller ones being snowcapped. The Three Sisters, Mount Washington, and Belknap Crater all loomed on the near eastern skyline, but it was snowy Mount Jefferson looming over Scar Mountain that commanded the most attention. Further to the north was Mount Hood and amazingly, we could even see Mount Adams from all the way in southern Washington.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOUuf9rlhdz3-O_Kzpe0gGb6IOGXaC9h13Qkubg9IHwpgb1bxnpP3qOZ3j_YUbyzQvTZA0OAC1uQ7-aiNAv4Z1GHmyctQ1pi5l5sUJ5gWOgVTtdm2sMCwMxg91iqPPrex8vwnYL0gHgBgjIsIc-6tJMEDNWO9FeG3_VJ4ksCdKGtjYBlLck69OlxACg/s5600/52243599020_9f193fc968_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3733" data-original-width="5600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOUuf9rlhdz3-O_Kzpe0gGb6IOGXaC9h13Qkubg9IHwpgb1bxnpP3qOZ3j_YUbyzQvTZA0OAC1uQ7-aiNAv4Z1GHmyctQ1pi5l5sUJ5gWOgVTtdm2sMCwMxg91iqPPrex8vwnYL0gHgBgjIsIc-6tJMEDNWO9FeG3_VJ4ksCdKGtjYBlLck69OlxACg/s320/52243599020_9f193fc968_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunchberry bloomed in bunches</td></tr></tbody></table><br />All good things come to an end though, and regrettably, we hiked off Iron Mountain's summit and then down to Tombstone Pass via the Santiam Wagon Road, which is actually a trail that follows the old historical wagon route. The Santiam Wagon Road ran through another shady forest that sported the same wooded and flowered scenery we had started out through, so many epic hours ago.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuv5ayYLPxlX_K7Vj8FF3VXi8gl-hZSBrzM3XgccGed_97JvY00X8upW0EpVdNdlh0aQ9dK1cF0gIgVcZ-3-V-wOVuQf_3kCgmTB23__3idSa3TiJSox_IliYmMWa_IRrU9DU1GUmqvb97_S8Wp-bA0Lt5mQWS8Kg1NZ3UziNZEFGiC-EX0rl1NvvMg/s6000/52243120703_875ec30926_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuv5ayYLPxlX_K7Vj8FF3VXi8gl-hZSBrzM3XgccGed_97JvY00X8upW0EpVdNdlh0aQ9dK1cF0gIgVcZ-3-V-wOVuQf_3kCgmTB23__3idSa3TiJSox_IliYmMWa_IRrU9DU1GUmqvb97_S8Wp-bA0Lt5mQWS8Kg1NZ3UziNZEFGiC-EX0rl1NvvMg/s320/52243120703_875ec30926_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iron Woman on the Iron Mountain Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, now Missy and I both know Iron Mountain rocks in July! Not sure if I'm quite ready to say I'll hike here every July, but that's a distinct possibility.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBppV0bIuMtzELnCLbRbZ__zrftoXxmCFl0Tgc4HL38QHWyww4uWpU1iv7X1DDyDzQK6GPqYVVVyK0qCnZW_KtCxhtb3uofQZ8aDmCJrkFjN8tIAstyA_MgoJePsP0Faj-Z8l-Zo9NnL1TpE3M77rIrxAXZK4S9mgR6h9OeGTJT8t9-fggtiw2y6TVg/s6000/52241041119_f4dd240acd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBppV0bIuMtzELnCLbRbZ__zrftoXxmCFl0Tgc4HL38QHWyww4uWpU1iv7X1DDyDzQK6GPqYVVVyK0qCnZW_KtCxhtb3uofQZ8aDmCJrkFjN8tIAstyA_MgoJePsP0Faj-Z8l-Zo9NnL1TpE3M77rIrxAXZK4S9mgR6h9OeGTJT8t9-fggtiw2y6TVg/s320/52241041119_f4dd240acd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cone Peak flower show</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzZkDL" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5178319321?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-26T05:26:53+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5178319321" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Tombstone Pass, Foster, OR 97345, Oregon 97345, USA44.395832 -122.14099144.383567578955692 -122.15815713769531 44.408096421044306 -122.12382486230469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-39603289013135434282022-07-10T08:00:00.675-07:002022-10-09T21:58:12.243-07:00Windigo Pass to Bingham Lakes<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg772aoNmwMIPSZC3s77myEJ7Tamn0Or1qi2XOLm-FKyKptKkv8IzghAITJC6xf67JSEskIuniQLdvW46BYO4mENhmGxsm9iIN8xS53iuCJ59kmzeY8h7TSV3f4AiTlaoMlT48shAbtgAGDrm3MOZejnsDwLw3qj-Tmy_dWXISu6W1yt-kxtSEfcnmPjQ/s6000/52231911463_801e679acf_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg772aoNmwMIPSZC3s77myEJ7Tamn0Or1qi2XOLm-FKyKptKkv8IzghAITJC6xf67JSEskIuniQLdvW46BYO4mENhmGxsm9iIN8xS53iuCJ59kmzeY8h7TSV3f4AiTlaoMlT48shAbtgAGDrm3MOZejnsDwLw3qj-Tmy_dWXISu6W1yt-kxtSEfcnmPjQ/s320/52231911463_801e679acf_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, the <a href="https://www.peakbagger.com/peak.aspx?pid=2431" target="_blank">Cowhorn Mountain</a> day-hike was all over and done with and that was my cue to trade in my daypack for a backpack. I'm a glutton for punishment apparently, but doing a day hike and a backpack trip all in the same day really seemed like a good idea after knocking down several peach tea ciders the day before.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EI2gSdBFpf9HsiT1dUEQpI8zLPcWBYKHLI1c5voy82oMBMfiAYdHoDnmeHB4oSRyOQgtGcADnbzPbmjpPKGMnIim2OO1KFwrY1xrlfMU43H3YrzOdhfp7m4283XRDtNAtkMrIRFgk50biN0E3OQduFn-h1IV7daxse3gqgVyL4bOkEL191FSUJ8E7A/s6000/52231920193_0244a0f82a_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EI2gSdBFpf9HsiT1dUEQpI8zLPcWBYKHLI1c5voy82oMBMfiAYdHoDnmeHB4oSRyOQgtGcADnbzPbmjpPKGMnIim2OO1KFwrY1xrlfMU43H3YrzOdhfp7m4283XRDtNAtkMrIRFgk50biN0E3OQduFn-h1IV7daxse3gqgVyL4bOkEL191FSUJ8E7A/s320/52231920193_0244a0f82a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mosquitos await me and my blood</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The basic plan for the backpacking segment of the day was just to depart (immediately after the hike to Cowhorn Mountain) from the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recreation/recarea/?recid=63558" target="_blank">Pacific Crest Trailhead</a> at Windigo Pass and hike a mile or so down Forest Road 60 to the Metolius-Windigo Trailhead. There is a creek running at the Metolius-Windigo Trailhead from which to water up at, and I figured I'd unceremoniously camp in the forest above the creek. However, I was all dressed up with nowhere to go, so to speak, and my legs still had plenty of pop so I just wound up hiking all the way to Nip and Tuck Lakes, roughly about 3 miles from Windigo Pass</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrK-aiqeALbbsTxamzNolTGQb_J1rR9yUSO2tohskkctNGNCYe817uAnwedSzAuHUid_79UKfmhoZnTiINjubA4d8hcJOqaygqQJFqTqQGR_axvBXpyXc-oKHwT3A0WN9XLl797al1SFKhimNG2YAhwpox0Mlm6qXOwV6p52E5gGMUvHU79m_TsBJpw/s6000/52232334666_4f1634d83e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrK-aiqeALbbsTxamzNolTGQb_J1rR9yUSO2tohskkctNGNCYe817uAnwedSzAuHUid_79UKfmhoZnTiINjubA4d8hcJOqaygqQJFqTqQGR_axvBXpyXc-oKHwT3A0WN9XLl797al1SFKhimNG2YAhwpox0Mlm6qXOwV6p52E5gGMUvHU79m_TsBJpw/s320/52232334666_4f1634d83e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nerd alert!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I had hiked here a week prior and already there were a few noticeable changes. There were no snowdrifts for one, the drifts being supplanted instead by thick clouds of ravenous mosquitoes. It had been a long time since I had felt the need to hike with a head net on but there I was, my handsome visage geekily swathed in netting in a desperate attempt to retain a modicum of blood for my own personal use.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-e6qJRSfMo8IuR2uQO09kmRpuia6tDEGo9wqWQj7zllQMUcSk-KwsPkPfCuJUZaUsnrBb9XxconQ6ZltpEbj075PqGb8EqOXYntT8ZaeivzubM9x-WY2SS2awTRiUVt4wHdBPC4JQ5xfQMFTQtDhl03TQsf6PzlqgvnPgIGtsi7UmwU6y5MHo2MTmg/s6000/52230894832_2b48ef9727_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-e6qJRSfMo8IuR2uQO09kmRpuia6tDEGo9wqWQj7zllQMUcSk-KwsPkPfCuJUZaUsnrBb9XxconQ6ZltpEbj075PqGb8EqOXYntT8ZaeivzubM9x-WY2SS2awTRiUVt4wHdBPC4JQ5xfQMFTQtDhl03TQsf6PzlqgvnPgIGtsi7UmwU6y5MHo2MTmg/s320/52230894832_2b48ef9727_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at Nip and Tuck Lakes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Camp was set up on the narrow forested isthmus forever separating Nip and Tuck Lakes, and in between cooking, eating dinner, and fending off vast clouds of miniscule Dracula spawn, I explored the shore along both lakes. The sky was blue but trending towards sunset and small puffy white clouds moved across the sky overhead. Eventually, sunset arrived, turning the clouds pink, and then it was time to get inside the tent while the mosquitoes whined outside, thankfully stymied by the tent's mesh fabric.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQseVynA9XfLmzEwyzRJuTNrN3wAG-nyvgDwAt2Oa7qKOTJte2ZaYjimOMlbl3hmfqOAJqdjM6WscsHeYr6fLCDQU8EFE0CHHaLaPPDppvOR6EkIePoDOWSWbsMpvR406YmUitwyqNbp_fLf4ZYXNS9tkn8zCWbjMlMsr_phTSK-opjFDwbuwb5VsEg/s6000/52232811445_15a1a0e887_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQseVynA9XfLmzEwyzRJuTNrN3wAG-nyvgDwAt2Oa7qKOTJte2ZaYjimOMlbl3hmfqOAJqdjM6WscsHeYr6fLCDQU8EFE0CHHaLaPPDppvOR6EkIePoDOWSWbsMpvR406YmUitwyqNbp_fLf4ZYXNS9tkn8zCWbjMlMsr_phTSK-opjFDwbuwb5VsEg/s320/52232811445_15a1a0e887_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trees dead and live</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Hiking all the way to<a href="https://www.topozone.com/oregon/klamath-or/lake/nip-and-tuck-lakes/" target="_blank"> Nip and Tuck Lakes</a> had totally screwed up my logistics. Because I had hiked farther than intended, Oldenberg Lake was now under two miles away and Bingham Lakes were only two and a half miles away. Not a lot of walking would be required on Day 2, making for a long fun-filled day of mosquito and human interaction.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxekjZFaqLZacSk9dQr8Nw6UYo5cjx9kgHpPvR7XF_wfdhU4S02MpTuJB-9rkk5YYFF4NBk5DwGTeQIeVYiyzsGKwNp1CFzAzmVl7Mi745nFJjzJSH4dWeH7dvgRTYXKikT-36QxXVjR3L9dr0g4hZ-_pT0I8DLyWMr7OxdNZFc0Mg9upNj0-lvn_hg/s6000/52232807620_28dd8e5790_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxekjZFaqLZacSk9dQr8Nw6UYo5cjx9kgHpPvR7XF_wfdhU4S02MpTuJB-9rkk5YYFF4NBk5DwGTeQIeVYiyzsGKwNp1CFzAzmVl7Mi745nFJjzJSH4dWeH7dvgRTYXKikT-36QxXVjR3L9dr0g4hZ-_pT0I8DLyWMr7OxdNZFc0Mg9upNj0-lvn_hg/s320/52232807620_28dd8e5790_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 2 was a dry and dusty affair</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Metolius-Windigo Trail is about one hundred miles in length, connecting the Mount Jefferson Wilderness to Windigo Pass. I'd be hiking on the MWT but locally, the trail was signed and mapped as the Oldenberg Lake Trail, which only made sense, seeing as how I was hiking to Oldenberg Lake itself. The dry and dusty trail got there via a short but rigorous stretch that went up and over a forested ridge, followed by a longer descent down to Oldenberg Lake. It'd be a steep climb on the return leg but hey, at least I had something to look forward to.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6C6uy8QQ2d0KKJyVnJAxYes0oM3FLUBH0Kp6c6L26rt3smTmfgSQnIGnjv90zS7ALktB1reNq05f2B4lrJQMhkGJBkfYOtk0JVVxh7CpoNscRn6qbuJHOJFKIgM4wvk0zYga8EusqhJU0XLpE8u7GMuFMGdMvWr9ztoeFiwAepFuNtwNquJhi3LvaxQ/s5979/52232326781_5a7a5c0429_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3986" data-original-width="5979" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6C6uy8QQ2d0KKJyVnJAxYes0oM3FLUBH0Kp6c6L26rt3smTmfgSQnIGnjv90zS7ALktB1reNq05f2B4lrJQMhkGJBkfYOtk0JVVxh7CpoNscRn6qbuJHOJFKIgM4wvk0zYga8EusqhJU0XLpE8u7GMuFMGdMvWr9ztoeFiwAepFuNtwNquJhi3LvaxQ/s320/52232326781_5a7a5c0429_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oldenberg Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Oldenberg Lake is a popular stop for Pacific Crest Trail through-hikers hiking the MWT as an alternate route, for unlike the PCT, the MWT passes by many lakes and makes water replenishment easy and convenient. However, on this day I had the place to myself, not counting about two million mosquitoes, and I kicked back for a while, appreciating the calm lake under a blue sky. Off in the distance, the tip of Odell Butte was visible on the horizon, with its lookout affixed to the summit like the world's smallest party hat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjtE-B6UbaIlZONUmVL7abE521DfeJeDIdCemhPm1V-rn0WQqb9TFr2H0vuUb3f4G0sK28SfPZvhHFK4CsOq23KF1nB8o4YuEJuyHUxfmiVzxxqLDAe_S5eS8mnDEJccrC98JUl3mo0Jw4HgGD_1LrE4sFfhQuRdlObxx0ZtuD4jS_6bJE3Hr_UOlXg/s6000/52232595199_0b80eb7313_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjtE-B6UbaIlZONUmVL7abE521DfeJeDIdCemhPm1V-rn0WQqb9TFr2H0vuUb3f4G0sK28SfPZvhHFK4CsOq23KF1nB8o4YuEJuyHUxfmiVzxxqLDAe_S5eS8mnDEJccrC98JUl3mo0Jw4HgGD_1LrE4sFfhQuRdlObxx0ZtuD4jS_6bJE3Hr_UOlXg/s320/52232595199_0b80eb7313_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you like dry lodgepole forests, then this is your hike</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Between Oldenberg and Bingham Lakes, lay a dense forest of spindly lodgepole pines. I don't think there was any other plant species growing in the pumice-based soils that lodgepole thrives in. There weren't any mosquito-hunting species of fauna either, judging by the unimpeded hordes following my every move. Nothing here but lodgepole, mosquitoes, and one incredibly handsome backpacker with tasty blood.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.topozone.com/oregon/klamath-or/lake/bingham-lakes/" target="_blank"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgFXoc8bTgaqwySND_K11d4f8MyIGfRDbfV_7Jm9r_EKP9lRbM-ieY0Ajg4A_E8UoX4kXdclpoQvp2KYpxsdt8PJBJG16lkifmgDLt6APrtVlO3Cdjtq2wvthrTOeSC4_HLTRVeMshYtpEFrpsHmVebj14RPzL4aUjS8inawFCbCWE2yXfe7HB2Fx8Q/s6000/52232329448_5de7934919_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgFXoc8bTgaqwySND_K11d4f8MyIGfRDbfV_7Jm9r_EKP9lRbM-ieY0Ajg4A_E8UoX4kXdclpoQvp2KYpxsdt8PJBJG16lkifmgDLt6APrtVlO3Cdjtq2wvthrTOeSC4_HLTRVeMshYtpEFrpsHmVebj14RPzL4aUjS8inawFCbCWE2yXfe7HB2Fx8Q/s320/52232329448_5de7934919_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the Bingham Lakes</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.topozone.com/oregon/klamath-or/lake/bingham-lakes/" target="_blank"></a></div><br />Bingham Lakes is a collection of four or five medium sized lakes situated below and on the northeast side of Cowhorn Mountain. When I arrived at the first Bingham Lake, it was still early and before ten o'clock. It was already pretty warm for early morning, too. Rather than set up camp and swelter inside a hot tent while doing battle against a relentless airborne armada of insectile piranhas, I decided to turn my three-day hike into a two-day affair. So, it was an early lunch and then a turnaround to begin the hike out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVDnFQS0daB2Y4LpZRStRkeOSytfZmSV2SI1E3aceRiE20G4aykU9o3_b8WnXvy3mqD_I_zoAZ_YOHrhVgqcG-xKxYoR5GCxS5kOuZs0yWdJHzHXKhyKPNHeMHuMld8_d9K1Fb4C0hGvthn-7f8UbwA3rFIJGh2ySvBtQnwgKzrGtAeLxjiWbb36A1A/s6000/52231319767_5d333844f7_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVDnFQS0daB2Y4LpZRStRkeOSytfZmSV2SI1E3aceRiE20G4aykU9o3_b8WnXvy3mqD_I_zoAZ_YOHrhVgqcG-xKxYoR5GCxS5kOuZs0yWdJHzHXKhyKPNHeMHuMld8_d9K1Fb4C0hGvthn-7f8UbwA3rFIJGh2ySvBtQnwgKzrGtAeLxjiWbb36A1A/s320/52231319767_5d333844f7_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back on the dry trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So, back through the lodgepole trees I go, the trees providing some shade but not nearly enough on a warm day. The hiking rendered me into one sweaty dude in no time at all, and the resulting ungodly goo of sunscreen, Deet, perspiration, and trail dust rolled into my eyes, making me cry like a child whose cherished yellow balloon had suddenly and unexpectedly popped.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja250QPR4qWtlRTYH3s_1MfHTMlNHSrvF-JxoJCiWb1SDWAhmPPo4hzn_1UYp3_O0M8Nwt-R5QKlY8TN1DUtDa6QQRVFVTWcphvza3JVQBBEy0cjb7zHHk0TGCqsDld5PBu1AElRixsHC7vVC32dw4JLN3igpM6-L7Jv8XVndJR1vRXe8xm6gzxvkCSQ/s6000/52232320801_713397d114_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja250QPR4qWtlRTYH3s_1MfHTMlNHSrvF-JxoJCiWb1SDWAhmPPo4hzn_1UYp3_O0M8Nwt-R5QKlY8TN1DUtDa6QQRVFVTWcphvza3JVQBBEy0cjb7zHHk0TGCqsDld5PBu1AElRixsHC7vVC32dw4JLN3igpM6-L7Jv8XVndJR1vRXe8xm6gzxvkCSQ/s320/52232320801_713397d114_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many trees, so little shade</td></tr></tbody></table><br />But hey, the really cool (sarcasm!) part was that the long descent I had come down on when approaching <a href="https://www.topozone.com/oregon/klamath-or/lake/oldenburg-lake/" target="_blank">Oldenberg Lake</a>, was now a long and protracted climb out of the lake's basin that had me feeling the "Old" in "Oldenberg". While I had felt pretty darn walky the day before, on this day I felt more like a jelly bean melting on a hot sidewalk. Let's just say I took a few more rest stops than normal before the trail crested and all that bad uphill stopped. The good news though, was that the amount of mosquitoes trying to eat me decreased in inverse proportion to the rising temperature.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQuIGenseQ6S9QjR4azcU3_sBc-NjLOK8EUWksXCC0RW6EsDodfea_trqZWhPMH5qBcuUAkla8l7qAyyYx7sBrvrZFxrDibL_BmUXGu9pH29776_o8BvDxavI9XHJt_QsZPaQfZwqUhqYj3ize_1KPE8i-2QPA9YxCuWlSFUwkVlkRlFjGPCmxSn-2A/s6000/52232324338_60f2674634_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQuIGenseQ6S9QjR4azcU3_sBc-NjLOK8EUWksXCC0RW6EsDodfea_trqZWhPMH5qBcuUAkla8l7qAyyYx7sBrvrZFxrDibL_BmUXGu9pH29776_o8BvDxavI9XHJt_QsZPaQfZwqUhqYj3ize_1KPE8i-2QPA9YxCuWlSFUwkVlkRlFjGPCmxSn-2A/s320/52232324338_60f2674634_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That ridge had been our route to Cowhorn Mountain the day prior</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Oldenberg Lake Trail dropped steadily back into the same forested basin that contained Nip and Tuck Lakes. Periodically, I could see distant mountains and peaks like Black Butte and Cappy Mountain. Nearer to the trail, and way above, were the cliffs and crags of the same rocky ridge we had walked on the day before, when hiking to Cowhorn Mountain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja43DQa6XfFk-LNMCAHVnWgkAopqUKwTt4GxabDxGm-HAZ8b47ZlRExWpXKQRBbiisa0OQvUYSz4lZuC5SwYXfJ22ydivLTF0oAAb-8Cp8leBTy8wVM2Z35IkgYefrZqLiZuVEYVUVJjER3PqEASXBn0_w7O9UZaEH5CImEyAj4SYA8tTMMn4lU3LPdg/s5343/52231317257_9fd45bdd77_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3562" data-original-width="5343" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja43DQa6XfFk-LNMCAHVnWgkAopqUKwTt4GxabDxGm-HAZ8b47ZlRExWpXKQRBbiisa0OQvUYSz4lZuC5SwYXfJ22ydivLTF0oAAb-8Cp8leBTy8wVM2Z35IkgYefrZqLiZuVEYVUVJjER3PqEASXBn0_w7O9UZaEH5CImEyAj4SYA8tTMMn4lU3LPdg/s320/52231317257_9fd45bdd77_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brunch, anyone</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Right before arriving at the MWT Trailhead, a startled bird flew up from the base of a tree growing right next to the trail. The bird was not particularly noteworthy but what got my attention is that I had seen the same bird not only on yesterday's hike, but on the prior week's hike as well. Sure enough, a quick search of the area revealed two eggs unceremoniously laying on the ground. I took off my pack, fired up my stove, and enjoyed a tasty omelet of wild eggs. Kidding! What I actually did do was take a quick photograph of the gray speckled eggs with apologies directed to Mama Bird anxiously watching me from a nearby branch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrEhT4Jka6YEQZXPMiz7wNfI4AhCeAZKCmXogR3iralrt3lAJ42eoFs3Uk5iMPcGoIEdIki2RNRiTPKWaZAxRRuESPaNlGqDk6anVB64RKslDCfKeYmQnl6S2OaXm2YxPq7c_F6oCdTUGZ7o40hXx3Iznwy1D-SSl2Hy3EA1cRdO88pHkP763yXuBHg/s5438/52232809570_27f969d64f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3625" data-original-width="5438" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrEhT4Jka6YEQZXPMiz7wNfI4AhCeAZKCmXogR3iralrt3lAJ42eoFs3Uk5iMPcGoIEdIki2RNRiTPKWaZAxRRuESPaNlGqDk6anVB64RKslDCfKeYmQnl6S2OaXm2YxPq7c_F6oCdTUGZ7o40hXx3Iznwy1D-SSl2Hy3EA1cRdO88pHkP763yXuBHg/s320/52232809570_27f969d64f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carpenter ant on a hike of its own</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When I finally made it back to the Windigo Pass Trailhead, gone were the thundering hordes of aromatic through-hikers, but there was That One Brunette (her trail name, actually) taking a breather among the cache of water jugs at the trailhead. At this point I was feeling like my trail name could have been Nipped And Tucked but on the plus side, it had been just under a twenty-mile weekend for me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrUvUmQdeH3oAGmt-KWt8cFSsIp8ZlaYmmBS2OZapPF1E9p34r7JioC4sbW1fvTDYZ6GSldxzexUDAMvJfLjaLtUxqUoAoAvDT81jmvn301ld3XNeWPgz8EnNzV8dImZL4OzDGxelHFkd9PeXmvZWKbOPwZVEOeJSLbjnzDkpUck9cwL4LoxTf6qjHw/s6000/52232326993_9d453311f6_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrUvUmQdeH3oAGmt-KWt8cFSsIp8ZlaYmmBS2OZapPF1E9p34r7JioC4sbW1fvTDYZ6GSldxzexUDAMvJfLjaLtUxqUoAoAvDT81jmvn301ld3XNeWPgz8EnNzV8dImZL4OzDGxelHFkd9PeXmvZWKbOPwZVEOeJSLbjnzDkpUck9cwL4LoxTf6qjHw/s320/52232326993_9d453311f6_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That way for a future hike</td></tr></tbody></table><br />In retrospect, the hike was a bit short for three days. I'm already thinking about returning to do a loop hike in the area that would include Susan, Darlene, and the Windy Lakes with maybe a return via Summit Lake and the Pacific Crest Trail. That would bump up the mileage to a respectable 35 miles or so.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfH6zEQKYgMfXrjoTSKzJnF1z3bBxuxCD7qYG_d48vaOeGDxcklPiSG6zMNYgd6_XO50srf7Wlew0t5-tha8YgFEWw1xWFjXamQ51FBdyV9RE_u3uKypoSB6KVuMbS9etB6iBjpYTDttE6EwQJTwq2rN-jnHZ48vblndw6mdcii_N81dyMGpGQLJFJtg/s6000/52231332522_ccae8a1132_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfH6zEQKYgMfXrjoTSKzJnF1z3bBxuxCD7qYG_d48vaOeGDxcklPiSG6zMNYgd6_XO50srf7Wlew0t5-tha8YgFEWw1xWFjXamQ51FBdyV9RE_u3uKypoSB6KVuMbS9etB6iBjpYTDttE6EwQJTwq2rN-jnHZ48vblndw6mdcii_N81dyMGpGQLJFJtg/s320/52231332522_ccae8a1132_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">X marks the spot</td></tr></tbody></table><br />On second thought, scratch that! Shortly after I completed this hike, a lightning-caused wildfire set up camp on Windigo Pass itself. Looking at the maps, the Windigo Fire came pretty close to the trailhead, as the fire burned on either side of Road 60. In response, the Forest Service closed the Pacific Crest trail from Crater Lake to Bend, along with half of the Diamond Peak Wilderness, and half of the Mount Thielsen Wilderness. Meanwhile, the mammoth Cedar Creek Fire has closed all of the Waldo Lake Wilderness. Looks like I'll be pretty much hiking in my living room these days.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLf9PELSGsLHjHFRMauvXv3gZfqDe6ScvjSZxygLoOqJqFEf4cY_alDxy3rWmWsn8vqG55Ku8M-eh20qBHMzv2ciF4Rq0VYudqY0k0De_6w9uI2M5S8nj_dakoChjnJIUe6XxbtkTnRXgc6BiyNarCxRBPee3npCBO5mULPhD3kwWpDLDVi24Dw-myQ/s6000/52232329066_235d2c700f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLf9PELSGsLHjHFRMauvXv3gZfqDe6ScvjSZxygLoOqJqFEf4cY_alDxy3rWmWsn8vqG55Ku8M-eh20qBHMzv2ciF4Rq0VYudqY0k0De_6w9uI2M5S8nj_dakoChjnJIUe6XxbtkTnRXgc6BiyNarCxRBPee3npCBO5mULPhD3kwWpDLDVi24Dw-myQ/s320/52232329066_235d2c700f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random skyline snippet along the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzYZMH" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5160311143?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-15T22:30:02+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5160311143" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Pacific Crest Trailhead, Windigo Pass, Crescent, OR, USA43.3676644 -122.033302843.355186728103149 -122.05046893769531 43.380142071896856 -122.01613666230469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-50283994322303067742022-07-09T08:00:00.449-07:002022-09-28T16:07:25.376-07:00Cowhorn Mountain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWOgPR9ac79tmqItO4W0fhmQRhFZ5b1iFmJA3HzrGI79Kc7bsPSym8-xRzhal1V_qImNLstb_S7hxB6MK-gvdM7HqEbwetoAhl8v256DYm1V9_W81wEys6ST_vm6zkGlaiy4dpbvq3HfoKeKy8BDCJu9mlxNUTTkEfnf8McGdzXOi4_LFAHkopBnkUA/s6000/52227876810_5d774e7871_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWOgPR9ac79tmqItO4W0fhmQRhFZ5b1iFmJA3HzrGI79Kc7bsPSym8-xRzhal1V_qImNLstb_S7hxB6MK-gvdM7HqEbwetoAhl8v256DYm1V9_W81wEys6ST_vm6zkGlaiy4dpbvq3HfoKeKy8BDCJu9mlxNUTTkEfnf8McGdzXOi4_LFAHkopBnkUA/s320/52227876810_5d774e7871_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I've told this story before but I'm not above plagiarizing myself. <a href="https://www.summitpost.org/cowhorn-mountain/151311" target="_blank">Cowhorn Mountain</a> got its name from a spire that used to be on the mountain and probably resembled a cow's horn. Unfortunately for us present-day hikers, the horn fell off in the early 1900s, knocked down in the middle of the night by a severe winter storm. It just goes to show that mountains, just like people, also become less horny as they get older. </div></span><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KEP5aAeVgMNa7grmgwdKMwiUJHYBXla0hxXzGoyyBG8TUCztLINnKWjTj8rUz8_7m2SwNDWzaCfvLgsGkzn-SXDo9L1hNBlwd98wXkgjHa3VwRfWuDlklyYGfj0Mvj4YLUH9G1q0ZaHFNrbGuEdX3tiCreM52oM9cadAqlghCgx3p1jTmG0_JFR9LQ/s6000/52224979528_0991075c2c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KEP5aAeVgMNa7grmgwdKMwiUJHYBXla0hxXzGoyyBG8TUCztLINnKWjTj8rUz8_7m2SwNDWzaCfvLgsGkzn-SXDo9L1hNBlwd98wXkgjHa3VwRfWuDlklyYGfj0Mvj4YLUH9G1q0ZaHFNrbGuEdX3tiCreM52oM9cadAqlghCgx3p1jTmG0_JFR9LQ/s320/52224979528_0991075c2c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move 'em out, head 'em up! Rawhide!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">At least the modern-day trimmed-down version of Cowhorn Mountain is presumably easier to summit than it was in the early 1900s. And speaking of trimmed-down versions, <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Umpqua</a> was hosting a trek to the mountain's summit and we numbered a robust and eager eighteen hikers, but who's counting, besides the hike leader? As we laced up our boots, the Pacific Crest Trailhead at Windigo Pass was a busy place, not even counting our lively band of bovines.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfxAzr6LOrkP3HdKArk6cGk7lmwh6xG_qiYSLJOzaDSYIIV6lInImGLqPxgTcwm6a-t_7DuD8yCcfAcTjF6AcG4jsigKrYHn0DAPPbNs3-1J3_PK2webG3IE-TaKDz8_mektX02t2DBcTcjevCBi0pNrPk_qh_IxMM-afA3JfluAstkuKo4sdsQ67Bw/s6000/52227868060_ed5ff9a599_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfxAzr6LOrkP3HdKArk6cGk7lmwh6xG_qiYSLJOzaDSYIIV6lInImGLqPxgTcwm6a-t_7DuD8yCcfAcTjF6AcG4jsigKrYHn0DAPPbNs3-1J3_PK2webG3IE-TaKDz8_mektX02t2DBcTcjevCBi0pNrPk_qh_IxMM-afA3JfluAstkuKo4sdsQ67Bw/s320/52227868060_ed5ff9a599_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mountain is calling but do we really have to go?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the Windigo Pass Trailhead, there is not a lot of water to be found along the trail until hikers reach Summit Lake about 13 miles away. However, a trail angel has adopted the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recreation/recarea/?recid=63558" target="_blank">Windigo Pass Trailhead</a> and keeps it well stocked with jugs of water and accordingly, throngs of through-hikers were drinking at the trough, so to speak. The trailhead was quite the festive and high-spirited place that morning!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7uO3HCX_CBh_0WxzD9IgIAbS9j8w7HeNo-23p8Qdl_IW75RzL4391-EsU1ejt87EYdjAJ6dAP6UMayKzjU1PuRRwF28quXKw3E-0_MiwlbwyUSKxV4i0-d4m4rIbmov3aRCfGIrdrTHgM0lKb56U3q7r0sH0b9FC1oXNBVkNXoJDpivzb22UakV8LMQ/s5940/52223952012_7a614b3a0b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3960" data-original-width="5940" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7uO3HCX_CBh_0WxzD9IgIAbS9j8w7HeNo-23p8Qdl_IW75RzL4391-EsU1ejt87EYdjAJ6dAP6UMayKzjU1PuRRwF28quXKw3E-0_MiwlbwyUSKxV4i0-d4m4rIbmov3aRCfGIrdrTHgM0lKb56U3q7r0sH0b9FC1oXNBVkNXoJDpivzb22UakV8LMQ/s320/52223952012_7a614b3a0b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gone was the snow around Windigo Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This hike took place only a week after my Nip and Tuck hike and I was somewhat disappointed to see the forest between the Pacific Crest Trail and Windigo Lakes to be snow free. It was like my rough bushwhack last week had never happened. What was happening now and not then, was that throngs of voracious mosquitoes were the travail du jour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ10T1gCSrm6nGZ2JRyTP8IbcX-7Pnr70ien_SoFmaxn2HnqvEFmTIYoDLPcYYAEZ3p0yODpGOYe27DVbTT85HWefL3zP70tuwxeEinvKdk31lva6NjntMX6XjdnCqT-1a8Er2-gDUrUVgSJ4LBuGlleeNyzek4iT8XBahg7hqbtWqADRE9Pctz0JguQ/s6000/52224965263_3152fc1671_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ10T1gCSrm6nGZ2JRyTP8IbcX-7Pnr70ien_SoFmaxn2HnqvEFmTIYoDLPcYYAEZ3p0yODpGOYe27DVbTT85HWefL3zP70tuwxeEinvKdk31lva6NjntMX6XjdnCqT-1a8Er2-gDUrUVgSJ4LBuGlleeNyzek4iT8XBahg7hqbtWqADRE9Pctz0JguQ/s320/52224965263_3152fc1671_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A forming thunderhead was cause for concern</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The weather forecast called for possible thunder and because standing on top of a tall mountain is not a good idea in a thunderstorm, we kept a wary eye on the clouds forming over the crest we were hiking on. The clouds resembled baby thunderheads but never quite got to the point of hurling lightning bolts at stampeding hikers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwN91BQtltTCfCG-LbipwWRa5KPBy4N4L32ULtFEpsRINIMcHo9Kn2YPrZls37bsErw_dd-f7eqVbd1CdObGRLhIDvHiqezem9RXoJ6gPNNnnha2xEs9Ave2pfA50iqoPRYWI6a9hyKkpPXRjcXLmFgMla2TvX_QRLoNndo-_zpYvW1ajbt1ghnilyg/s6000/52225227579_d08dec35b8_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwN91BQtltTCfCG-LbipwWRa5KPBy4N4L32ULtFEpsRINIMcHo9Kn2YPrZls37bsErw_dd-f7eqVbd1CdObGRLhIDvHiqezem9RXoJ6gPNNnnha2xEs9Ave2pfA50iqoPRYWI6a9hyKkpPXRjcXLmFgMla2TvX_QRLoNndo-_zpYvW1ajbt1ghnilyg/s320/52225227579_d08dec35b8_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The PCT will be renamed "The Trail You Are Hiking On"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Pacific Crest Trail heads uphill for about four miles at a steady grade. As we gained altitude, periodic openings in the forest allowed us to see distant Mounts Bailey and Thielsen to the south, and the Cappy Mountain complex east of the PCT and much closer to Windigo Pass. Below, in a forested basin, the twin jewels of Windigo Lakes reposed on a large blanket of forested terrain. And speaking of lakes, a stagnant pond that used to be an important water stop for through hikers before the advent of the Windigo Pass trail angel, had been signed by some wag as "That Lake Over There".</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv33yuVw566ZqmtkF0eps0MO_P6oP37qHaHh8Qxbo9_8bqYa8Mt5eYjC2TLuCO5Dw1pyW41R0TgCWIkU6pn-mIGTvvWU4BqpnJ23WBLIy_RSlt2Bl1wDpp-4_2VwX0QcgDMSIoFn4_GW0p2zYEMyVRFURn4-qZHYoE8V3sf3KMIMNIFb0-8ELczbzCkg/s6000/52223941782_fcb4e2662f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv33yuVw566ZqmtkF0eps0MO_P6oP37qHaHh8Qxbo9_8bqYa8Mt5eYjC2TLuCO5Dw1pyW41R0TgCWIkU6pn-mIGTvvWU4BqpnJ23WBLIy_RSlt2Bl1wDpp-4_2VwX0QcgDMSIoFn4_GW0p2zYEMyVRFURn4-qZHYoE8V3sf3KMIMNIFb0-8ELczbzCkg/s320/52223941782_fcb4e2662f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow was all over the higher reaches of this hike</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As the trail sashayed to and fro and undulated and up and down the forested ridge leading to Cowhorn, openings in the forest provided occasional peeks at the day's object of our desire. Always craggy and udderly foreboding, Cowhorn Mountain looked to be so much higher and farther than our current vantage point. One should never look ahead, it's always so de(moo)ralizing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHdNshLqqTjHLtxFWoBakdu6nFtnWIazHECdYKaaCYHZedcZU839EAyP7a-eQtFHzylf1ZxZWHJlTTHhdE5IiHpC5kg_jFor2DIeNOusFl5_LZ3sAQkdvJsKMJmnOst-T2xtZtJKh-jbcAo3hwfFAvZ41GD1pQjlzJVy8QMIJw0jwOqIzkctpnNrQnQ/s5778/52224964468_f3d42f816c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3852" data-original-width="5778" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHdNshLqqTjHLtxFWoBakdu6nFtnWIazHECdYKaaCYHZedcZU839EAyP7a-eQtFHzylf1ZxZWHJlTTHhdE5IiHpC5kg_jFor2DIeNOusFl5_LZ3sAQkdvJsKMJmnOst-T2xtZtJKh-jbcAo3hwfFAvZ41GD1pQjlzJVy8QMIJw0jwOqIzkctpnNrQnQ/s320/52224964468_f3d42f816c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny picks her way through the snow drifts</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we continued to gain altitude on the Pacific Crest Trail, snow became a thing and that's snow lie. The drifts were plentiful and deep enough to hide the trail from sight. Fortunately, this is through-hiker season and we just followed their hoof prints in the snow when uncertain. The melting snow was soft and we had to watch out for tree wells and hollow spaces to avoid sudden and unexpected posthole moments in the slushy snow</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwHL_VWk0-yF1QHVJgnKcNLRmRWqIC5CzS3UiYnr5l8oOJuMztwSbM-dX7GaIeuYTLIeUoShMQCPJfKBTLvapgI6QPyNtpntTFCHLGGVfG_F9r82qOXsrYxlvjennFjdovZ87oz-w2MSWNCIPjbXHrN_WhI36ETQWd4OzmJ_K-xG2QfDLvhZaz0uJsA/s6000/52226387807_7781b81dc0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwHL_VWk0-yF1QHVJgnKcNLRmRWqIC5CzS3UiYnr5l8oOJuMztwSbM-dX7GaIeuYTLIeUoShMQCPJfKBTLvapgI6QPyNtpntTFCHLGGVfG_F9r82qOXsrYxlvjennFjdovZ87oz-w2MSWNCIPjbXHrN_WhI36ETQWd4OzmJ_K-xG2QfDLvhZaz0uJsA/s320/52226387807_7781b81dc0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clouds form and reform over the landscape</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was feeling so walky that I soon found myself in front of the herd, accompanied solely by Katelyn, who was our youngest hiker at age thirteen. I daresay that as fast as I hiked, she would have left me eating her snowflakes if she knew how to get to Cowhorn by herself, and that's no bull. But all that fast moo-ving along had a price for the diabetes impaired and I bonked right at the foot of the mountain. So, while most of my friends made hay and went up to the summit, some of us stayed behind to chew cud and admire the landscape and cloudscape surrounding the prominent peak of Cowhorn Mountain. And one of us ate the proper foods to reconstitute his low blood sugar, darn diabetes anyway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggAodto4pc-xycAsarSl2FUoEZvzwN1fzpvmfFQrCtg5TtuhIGSDwAZ-eYIVH5H_n1-m0aURLiO_vcq3PZxc2r6aInFOThMK41yTAjTaHHqFrJwfiquxIj7nYFOiwztHpKEpRvEp_NAM4Q3F8_ExuiKNeADKQ_8WS0-tazVbg39wI2HkcfM1Yb350sw/s6000/52227872805_5079058975_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggAodto4pc-xycAsarSl2FUoEZvzwN1fzpvmfFQrCtg5TtuhIGSDwAZ-eYIVH5H_n1-m0aURLiO_vcq3PZxc2r6aInFOThMK41yTAjTaHHqFrJwfiquxIj7nYFOiwztHpKEpRvEp_NAM4Q3F8_ExuiKNeADKQ_8WS0-tazVbg39wI2HkcfM1Yb350sw/s320/52227872805_5079058975_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers carefully navigate their way down</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was all downhill naturally, once our thundering cattle herd disembarked from Cowhorn Mountain. There was some slipping and sliding on the snow drifts on the way down and I took the occasion to instruct the less experienced hikers how to safely kick-step through the snow. It was a perfunctory four-mile hike through thick forest, thick clouds of mosquitoes, and thick throngs of through-hikers before we arrived in good order at Windigo Pass, fully sated with the day's undertaking.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNAi4Y7Cv_KC5smqCc_XTD7raJB-m7tn_hABBNwbLbqHkAE-QOfB6XUToSMu8bXR9j8QXULLtmUVsG5u332midy2yCXfP-qCtQqIIWxacDIgK0AlewLm7vgrX1iTnFCikWaIxUmvMT7pCs4IstK24GvFy3GDReMdyqJoo5x3xlC8hUeh5sqQ3Z4_IPQ/s6000/52226388657_09f8a73717_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNAi4Y7Cv_KC5smqCc_XTD7raJB-m7tn_hABBNwbLbqHkAE-QOfB6XUToSMu8bXR9j8QXULLtmUVsG5u332midy2yCXfP-qCtQqIIWxacDIgK0AlewLm7vgrX1iTnFCikWaIxUmvMT7pCs4IstK24GvFy3GDReMdyqJoo5x3xlC8hUeh5sqQ3Z4_IPQ/s320/52226388657_09f8a73717_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainbow in the sky</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Well some of us were fully sated, while at least one of us apparently required some more adventure and exercise. Yup, I divested myself of my daypack and hoisted my backpack onto my shoulders, ready for a hike down into the Nip and Tuck Lakes area. Hay, I was back to feeling walky again and head me out and move me up. Rawhide!</div></span><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUR5xbbZbIrLqqGs8IlwTuKxR34t6I8CnqMajaBz7DgQxjBYaAWKBx46U0io4bd5jxoNyHTNcPhY5jboT_FvAHkEzu8HLCeIzxe9z4SmguH6SvG3UW6KFZEN34nmpVrKNFcT0ZJM6xuMLWncyyGL50jDqYCAwtjdNrEGPRu9_zZxPaEgjy0USwQf3pA/s5777/52224942211_7bf6f85226_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3851" data-original-width="5777" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUR5xbbZbIrLqqGs8IlwTuKxR34t6I8CnqMajaBz7DgQxjBYaAWKBx46U0io4bd5jxoNyHTNcPhY5jboT_FvAHkEzu8HLCeIzxe9z4SmguH6SvG3UW6KFZEN34nmpVrKNFcT0ZJM6xuMLWncyyGL50jDqYCAwtjdNrEGPRu9_zZxPaEgjy0USwQf3pA/s320/52224942211_7bf6f85226_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pasque flower adorned the rock gardens near the summit</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzYyQi" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5157127864?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-14T04:07:49+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5157127864" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Pacific Crest Trail, Windigo Pass, Crescent, OR 97733, USA43.3654568 -122.032204343.363896909548608 -122.03435006721192 43.367016690451386 -122.03005853278809tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-82181946847952697982022-07-06T08:00:00.544-07:002022-09-23T20:57:05.145-07:00North Umpqua Trail (Deer Leap Segment)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dX_zHGR93eOKzm_CtmrIET3UPJzsxDcGQFnLQ9-Bpgf6xdxcNa_VVqT0fbBLRkT6IouNDPcFXuRdu_9dkG0w2zShfI1vHVRHtYj5YWcz6p8iGRTzBr6gmNFxw1XVWE1OWfeJSE3Xq9F3C3DRTxJ6UoxIRjtOLC5FdOW4Rd6JDTi7DXh579p5BZwa3w/s6000/52210814352_651e3cd895_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dX_zHGR93eOKzm_CtmrIET3UPJzsxDcGQFnLQ9-Bpgf6xdxcNa_VVqT0fbBLRkT6IouNDPcFXuRdu_9dkG0w2zShfI1vHVRHtYj5YWcz6p8iGRTzBr6gmNFxw1XVWE1OWfeJSE3Xq9F3C3DRTxJ6UoxIRjtOLC5FdOW4Rd6JDTi7DXh579p5BZwa3w/s320/52210814352_651e3cd895_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>A</span><span>t Medicine Creek and a</span><span>bout three years ago, a huge boulder went on a gravity-induced rampage through the forest along the North Umpqua River. Trees stood no chance against the humongous rock and one tree in particular, was leveraged into karate-chopping the stout hikers' footbridge on the North Umpqua Trail into two large sections of kindling. Somewhat surprising after several years though, the bridge still remains unrepaired and unusable for hiking. To continue on the <a href="https://www.blm.gov/or/districts/roseburg/recreation/umpquatrails/deer_leap_segment.htm" target="_blank">North Umpqua Trail's Deer Leap Segment</a> from the Soda Springs Trailhead, hikers are forced to bushwhack down to the creek and then either wade or rock-hop across.</span></div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMes2MmKmjFFiQVyVAR7qWwkhzZtITfVDggAa0x-_5UEvtayJNA4WHQf7HNaoeZYNEAlx1zPLT0MHAHg_W5aFWdOZJeTbm5ImECNAIA-onGRLovXahnTtAYAiWJpmRNNgLozLb9ZESlYum6N5Gff-0oekIploe_bdpXgrWqAiy7jN7RqgvhUTOYOEtdA/s6000/52212316725_87ed7021b4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMes2MmKmjFFiQVyVAR7qWwkhzZtITfVDggAa0x-_5UEvtayJNA4WHQf7HNaoeZYNEAlx1zPLT0MHAHg_W5aFWdOZJeTbm5ImECNAIA-onGRLovXahnTtAYAiWJpmRNNgLozLb9ZESlYum6N5Gff-0oekIploe_bdpXgrWqAiy7jN7RqgvhUTOYOEtdA/s320/52212316725_87ed7021b4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge with a back problem</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Friend Missy and I set out on the <a href="https://www.blm.gov/or/districts/roseburg/recreation/umpquatrails/" target="_blank">North Umpqua Trail</a> on an overcast morning and within a third of a mile, we ran into the aforementioned crime scene at Medicine Creek. A large destroyed footbridge is truly an awesome sight to behold and we gawked for a bit before actually doing the tedious work of scrambling down to the creek, and then wading (me) or rock-hopping (Missy) across. From there it was a short but steep scramble (both of us) up to the North Umpqua Trail, where in essence, the real hike commenced.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytDDvC7bCSj9MsH0YhRiCzqGWlx5ZJX6zZKgwumJZSbMfZBLVG0tyunkqgW4plEuKcael5T8W6DWCuvW3yn1-b62boJ5Xbmlv72U2E0Kc_0UdcPtvuyZ5RjieEH3drAQ_p4ZCYSFVTirTeZQle9VquhC7r2XCxXRqpzpNTn9U_EpB4L6wabXuBzLZIQ/s6000/52210827022_7a36ceb91f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytDDvC7bCSj9MsH0YhRiCzqGWlx5ZJX6zZKgwumJZSbMfZBLVG0tyunkqgW4plEuKcael5T8W6DWCuvW3yn1-b62boJ5Xbmlv72U2E0Kc_0UdcPtvuyZ5RjieEH3drAQ_p4ZCYSFVTirTeZQle9VquhC7r2XCxXRqpzpNTn9U_EpB4L6wabXuBzLZIQ/s320/52210827022_7a36ceb91f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of that morning rain on the local vegetation</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It had been raining for days prior to this hike but the rain had stopped and apparently this was the day for the storm to dissipate into happy blue sky oblivion. We couldn't fully celebrate being dry, however, as the burgeoning spring vegetation was only too happy to transfer idling water drops stored on leaves and flowers onto the clothing of passing hikers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF9g8IhMfGKXOAUYis9RWNkqxrDy6isxxGFJK5uA9M96Yx3LrPYmkVat3DUQWkbfw6jF_X4Zs6Ivr0aYn_DW4bWVjswKFa9OMC3zgXTQg-7ZEqntdGl-B3_c_VjmpyKbXa3bNB9S9z7SnEDI3cKCZHSugzgXOJzeR1II0YyT1ESzsaseJo2S5UUNIIw/s5604/52212097279_3a1c682e07_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3736" data-original-width="5604" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF9g8IhMfGKXOAUYis9RWNkqxrDy6isxxGFJK5uA9M96Yx3LrPYmkVat3DUQWkbfw6jF_X4Zs6Ivr0aYn_DW4bWVjswKFa9OMC3zgXTQg-7ZEqntdGl-B3_c_VjmpyKbXa3bNB9S9z7SnEDI3cKCZHSugzgXOJzeR1II0YyT1ESzsaseJo2S5UUNIIw/s320/52212097279_3a1c682e07_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slide Creek slides on by</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We passed several creeks crossing the trail but only Slide Creek was deemed worthy of a name. We decamped from the fully intact hiker's bridge there and attempted to get closer to the stream tumbling though its rocky defile. Missy got on a mossy boulder that was canted at an incline towards the creek and the moss let loose and she had a scary glissade that stopped just short of sending her into what surely would have been a painful freefall into the creek and surrounding rocks. Maybe that's why it's called Slide Creek!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtzSydjQByCGVx_JLFoDSBsS4sD1u0-UQ0Cg7j6j7wEMopQgUBu_rb2QSzOQlAHSf0boZnp3u0oDm30kKefsuCpdee6BYKqDO965snKPNQxgF4XDKDzahkLDJflWucqnt4IySNUVVeJNa6HwAtxj-WqT5HuCL8Kdh0tolUrKRmmt_w5X5BPqGDOsPYw/s6000/52212093159_05432c67f9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtzSydjQByCGVx_JLFoDSBsS4sD1u0-UQ0Cg7j6j7wEMopQgUBu_rb2QSzOQlAHSf0boZnp3u0oDm30kKefsuCpdee6BYKqDO965snKPNQxgF4XDKDzahkLDJflWucqnt4IySNUVVeJNa6HwAtxj-WqT5HuCL8Kdh0tolUrKRmmt_w5X5BPqGDOsPYw/s320/52212093159_05432c67f9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remnant of an ancient landslide</td></tr></tbody></table><br />No, Slide Creek did not get its name from Missy nearly sliding into the creek. As we hiked away from the creek, we passed by the obvious remnants of an ancient rockslide that gave Slide Creek its name, the slide now covered with a thick layer of moss. Besides the rockslide, other geologic formations loomed between the intervening trees in the lush forest, as rocky cliffs, spires, and ramparts all stood at attention in permanent testimony to the volcanic origins of the North Umpqua River terrain.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJplClPsXUjqfXm9Xz9eA_dCtU0mm4pmdwp2dhiv_c162ePHPhin5-PLFdjAscEVsA5-YBSukr1_4ieGRP0nxjZfsiO10fosKilRuR-tK1gY_jQxMw27DvVtb40kDMLh_mBtmLXOM1FaoivNMBZ4nALp-A979OGIuZ9-DrB-JOi9WuT5jWzW24R1Fgg/s6000/52211826121_a78b875c9e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJplClPsXUjqfXm9Xz9eA_dCtU0mm4pmdwp2dhiv_c162ePHPhin5-PLFdjAscEVsA5-YBSukr1_4ieGRP0nxjZfsiO10fosKilRuR-tK1gY_jQxMw27DvVtb40kDMLh_mBtmLXOM1FaoivNMBZ4nALp-A979OGIuZ9-DrB-JOi9WuT5jWzW24R1Fgg/s320/52211826121_a78b875c9e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was plenty of uphill hiking </td></tr></tbody></table><br />The hike gained nearly two thousand feet of elevation over the course of three-plus miles, testing our mettle somewhat but I'm glad to report we were both up to the challenge. By now, the sun was making a concerted effort to warm the day and the combination of wet plant life and hiking exertion turned this hike into a rather humid, sweaty, and smelly affair. And the same goes for me, too!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuqvx-XMssgW0MUGWspTwp6BWNdOZn2cYmoL_-LXfT9x8IDT87eN3NTy8FDI1SvAk-hPfvpp6wfZnu46ykpR3Migqk4czG17v3Rrpqcr2dk0Vb90S2_4r9dM8n9YTRVCABYXYzf_bYnHsa-X7DU5HPWkYVFkSwPrCyt4b-0hTATBOGcvAHuDXC_MWmw/s6000/52212079324_aa0f60a381_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuqvx-XMssgW0MUGWspTwp6BWNdOZn2cYmoL_-LXfT9x8IDT87eN3NTy8FDI1SvAk-hPfvpp6wfZnu46ykpR3Migqk4czG17v3Rrpqcr2dk0Vb90S2_4r9dM8n9YTRVCABYXYzf_bYnHsa-X7DU5HPWkYVFkSwPrCyt4b-0hTATBOGcvAHuDXC_MWmw/s320/52212079324_aa0f60a381_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candystick emerges </td></tr></tbody></table><br />The season was spring, and to go along with the rampant greenery was rampant flowering with a multitude of colors on display. The rhododendron bushes were still festooned with large pink blossoms but clearly their blooming glory was on the wane. I pointed out to Missy the white and pink flowers of prince's pine and she suggested that become my trail name. White hyacinth, yellow tarweed, and brown wild ginger flowers all represented their respective slices of the color spectrum and we also spotted the striking red and white canes of candystick emerging onto the forest floor from some subterranean sugar shop in the dark earth beneath. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZDX5csH91WWkVNa3i3rb6Zmpke7pYNx7hLZ6DnnpvvJ1INVV8e_UTEHN4VppVKC4aVIsSteMOZ6VNqqGUWy7i1o3m68H4DK9XRNmoiKzV8Imi8l0KGjR-0pGlthooq1LDAHSd9ei-eUMyX7P7MYqaIQ0TFRkerLkFWdPWmfCYypJzMJT2QsdONbgMQ/s6000/52212083314_2183b0a452_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZDX5csH91WWkVNa3i3rb6Zmpke7pYNx7hLZ6DnnpvvJ1INVV8e_UTEHN4VppVKC4aVIsSteMOZ6VNqqGUWy7i1o3m68H4DK9XRNmoiKzV8Imi8l0KGjR-0pGlthooq1LDAHSd9ei-eUMyX7P7MYqaIQ0TFRkerLkFWdPWmfCYypJzMJT2QsdONbgMQ/s320/52212083314_2183b0a452_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice view, but don't get too close to the edge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The downhill side of the trail dropped away rather abruptly, making for a dizzying overlook of the North Umpqua River coursing over a thousand feet below. I always thought deer with broken hearts leaping to their deaths to squelch their sorrow was how the Deer Leap Segment got its name, but that's just me, because everybody knows deer are heartless creatures. At any rate, we enjoyed the view of the river, canyon, and mountains a safe distance away from the sheer edge of the rim.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZP7TJhcDV3iA1_aocQSaKJdCPsVJIvntTpw69Gb-ZI0TzcQ5Wo8cccHqT1Mh5dbCxoC9lJ7V_yLvFBYBzTzfdYZXVymWxqE0iO-pVglKl75FlsZKowaTJGPF2xwTwv54f6pz3c-ztw-P7r3HrI5o7GRRBTWfcwCf2hnhndytx_s-0IlxPt7hWe_JTPw/s6000/52214211643_30699de207_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZP7TJhcDV3iA1_aocQSaKJdCPsVJIvntTpw69Gb-ZI0TzcQ5Wo8cccHqT1Mh5dbCxoC9lJ7V_yLvFBYBzTzfdYZXVymWxqE0iO-pVglKl75FlsZKowaTJGPF2xwTwv54f6pz3c-ztw-P7r3HrI5o7GRRBTWfcwCf2hnhndytx_s-0IlxPt7hWe_JTPw/s320/52214211643_30699de207_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun came out as we descended to the trailhead</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After about four miles of going uphill, the trail finally crested and began to head downhill. Pleased to be hiking downhill but unwilling to surrender our hard-earned elevation gain only to have to regain it on the way back, we called it good and ate lunch at a level spot among some manzanita bushes. On the return leg, it was the same old sublime forest scenery all over again, but happily it was a pleasant downhill walk this time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7vSp463w5a1mckm-GXvWmNwe4ezQHZ_vt7QgcUaZW8k-uypWIGD8ZVDt5Dm1BRQY8gtrTNOAkltYciFlM9BkkIm48aZgWEq2ayik3ftpts60bGexvY3qc9oHdiazvaPvyW9rCN_DOF6z0zPFtDTk-cXM1I_pbDtrOIarOrSqutxdtOAnaj_f4_D614Q/s6000/52213176297_09a5782ac4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7vSp463w5a1mckm-GXvWmNwe4ezQHZ_vt7QgcUaZW8k-uypWIGD8ZVDt5Dm1BRQY8gtrTNOAkltYciFlM9BkkIm48aZgWEq2ayik3ftpts60bGexvY3qc9oHdiazvaPvyW9rCN_DOF6z0zPFtDTk-cXM1I_pbDtrOIarOrSqutxdtOAnaj_f4_D614Q/s320/52213176297_09a5782ac4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy picks her way down to Medicine Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After crossing over Slide Creek, where we both avoided any near-falls this time, we returned to the wreckage of the Medicine Creek Bridge. From there it was a sketchy drop down to the creek, and from there it was another simple wade (me) across Medicine Creek or a complicated and arduous rock-hop (Missy) that had her wishing she could just do a Deer Leap across. Maybe that's how Deer Leap got its name.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-bLJtb7bq-mJMv8xIuH-r_njgCrZp7ivK9C01qfQ8qt00gDeiCcDbtr5RkOlbsI1GdHvqsBh7KGw05XUx-7ghp_ZSJy5xFq5qVp2WPu7Azfr9c_QSCKj7VXHvyh2Rgl2rdn7K7LV-8OWsmGbrsbXQcXqOYlTBEdBE4sJYBCzMQzWr4LpeO7eW_SKTA/s6000/52214466689_2f85c6f6be_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-bLJtb7bq-mJMv8xIuH-r_njgCrZp7ivK9C01qfQ8qt00gDeiCcDbtr5RkOlbsI1GdHvqsBh7KGw05XUx-7ghp_ZSJy5xFq5qVp2WPu7Azfr9c_QSCKj7VXHvyh2Rgl2rdn7K7LV-8OWsmGbrsbXQcXqOYlTBEdBE4sJYBCzMQzWr4LpeO7eW_SKTA/s320/52214466689_2f85c6f6be_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lava formations were a common sight next to the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzXQcm" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="401px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5155133896?width=600&height=401&undefined&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-08-12T22:41:18+00:00" width="100%"><div class="jss2975" id="embed-frame-footer"><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5155133896" class="jss2976"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss2977 MuiTypography-body1" string="View Route Details">View Route Details</p></a><div class="jss2978"><p class="MuiTypography-root jss2979 jss3000 MuiTypography-body1">Create routes or search for a route at <span><a rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank" href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/" string="MapMyRun." class="jss2977">MapMyRun.</a></span></p></div></div></iframe>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0North Umpqua Trail, Medicine Creek Trailhead, Idleyld Park, OR 97447, USA43.304843299999987 -122.487546743.301719966554373 -122.49183823442382 43.3079666334456 -122.48325516557617tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-18187866825885553832022-07-01T20:00:00.495-07:002022-09-22T16:31:34.530-07:00Nip and Tuck Lakes<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf04Bi7z5vJx5EQadZ6knptVUWxsJAF7J2fiM-mZ5UPdFeOU9vp1qnf1py4EiK3TDOa3rhXurENYxbJSB7v5iAGz29QfXO0p88LTW2ADRgbJPGEizr_Nr8fr3K3PAM7ZIcPbwP3cKPKJmuOQ_yVemW16wJpCoUDHTRhjCOSHaJ0KLXPzQJnRTcANt2xw/s5730/52196944270_354d2afa8d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3820" data-original-width="5730" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf04Bi7z5vJx5EQadZ6knptVUWxsJAF7J2fiM-mZ5UPdFeOU9vp1qnf1py4EiK3TDOa3rhXurENYxbJSB7v5iAGz29QfXO0p88LTW2ADRgbJPGEizr_Nr8fr3K3PAM7ZIcPbwP3cKPKJmuOQ_yVemW16wJpCoUDHTRhjCOSHaJ0KLXPzQJnRTcANt2xw/s320/52196944270_354d2afa8d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Now seemed like the time for my very first hike to Nip and Tuck Lakes, or the Plastic Surgery Lakes as I like to call them. Yeah, that's a bit of a groaner but seriously, if you like pristine lakes with plenty of solitude (and who doesn't?) then Nip and Tuck should suture needs. Sorry about those atrocious puns but hopefully they'll leave you in stitches. There's more where that came from and that's why I usually hike alone.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEaWcxLTN7o-tZGtMJBTMoRVzmFVryuKqxcEjZTuFhlR7fdAaPVEcv7HwwOhaRD6dVe8IaAaKN8mTg77lC5ZfUf5yDHUZ7ZXxUz0Em2QZ_ii0H1gnXK_ZXEXE6w0Jm73om1Cmoq0DRSpvxu2CSP64wBEEwkkrXv9tlXvEAMPvEDCNolb2e1yzfUbjbw/s6000/52195470872_8d200b1478_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEaWcxLTN7o-tZGtMJBTMoRVzmFVryuKqxcEjZTuFhlR7fdAaPVEcv7HwwOhaRD6dVe8IaAaKN8mTg77lC5ZfUf5yDHUZ7ZXxUz0Em2QZ_ii0H1gnXK_ZXEXE6w0Jm73om1Cmoq0DRSpvxu2CSP64wBEEwkkrXv9tlXvEAMPvEDCNolb2e1yzfUbjbw/s320/52195470872_8d200b1478_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last vestige of winter</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Snow played a big part in my deciding to hike here. Our little corner of Oregon had experienced a pretty good winter and as a result, snow was still lingering on the ground and covering up trails about three weeks later than normal. Eager to get up into the mountains and ascertain where exactly the snow level was, I penciled this hike in for a sunny but mild day in the Windigo Pass area.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeQZXr5jOIGBu4c8uD_51RIwdJtV6K3pYsahyFH7BZN5QJG1dnURph3bG_cwrfJnUb90XblP4j3fGU0lnZo6lY5DZooRBtCaO_MzmBsB0ijG-OC_g_--ZrZyW3rXqgh18zGaq896b2v0yAA66mNIX7o3kcY7GnFBWl1-Zl_DD_iNyyL-hheGUYDEHCw/s6000/52195433882_a23f709be5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeQZXr5jOIGBu4c8uD_51RIwdJtV6K3pYsahyFH7BZN5QJG1dnURph3bG_cwrfJnUb90XblP4j3fGU0lnZo6lY5DZooRBtCaO_MzmBsB0ijG-OC_g_--ZrZyW3rXqgh18zGaq896b2v0yAA66mNIX7o3kcY7GnFBWl1-Zl_DD_iNyyL-hheGUYDEHCw/s320/52195433882_a23f709be5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail was actually Forest Road 60 at first</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the Pacific Crest Trailhead at Windigo Pass, it was a three-quarter mile hike down a dusty forest road to the official <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/deschutes/recarea/?recid=39210" target="_blank">Metolius-Windigo Trailhead</a>. The MWT runs over one hundred miles in distance between the Mount Jefferson area and our own Windigo Pass but today I'd be hiking just about three miles of it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfoXysTOrGT8BVUKpPzrAkrbxfu15Kyy34Zs-sSj5s3o_O45cx7NcUEGLYesFo0Qd6tJmfOvs1amDLIJyN_fxoSwKpTZMQVi-0henjSMBff1-43WUNwenNkjuq1Om76ygeIBXJ79a3bVEzsybSBOhSO670ds-pA2N0Jc2-H_LdUdSu6e6C3hAL6CzoA/s6000/52195467582_427baf2703_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfoXysTOrGT8BVUKpPzrAkrbxfu15Kyy34Zs-sSj5s3o_O45cx7NcUEGLYesFo0Qd6tJmfOvs1amDLIJyN_fxoSwKpTZMQVi-0henjSMBff1-43WUNwenNkjuq1Om76ygeIBXJ79a3bVEzsybSBOhSO670ds-pA2N0Jc2-H_LdUdSu6e6C3hAL6CzoA/s320/52195467582_427baf2703_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail had kind of a dry vibe about it</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Dry and dusty. That about sums up the hike to Nip and Tuck Lakes, although you'd never know it from the trailhead. There, several patches of snow lay underneath the trees and the melting thereof created several very cold but clear running streams but that was it for the snow and water. Once I left the trailhead it was all tan-colored pumice soil underneath a thin forest with little to no undergrowth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yf-dOJ_JQcafQ03GtF7xjwAR8DTPBL1llsP_N3PPwwCOYWTitkUZRY_Zte9iPPTnnqHTfd9Qox9C2QxP94ZOiO1lTg00XTx7matU2TvNkKMzmROQlW0H6CPhl5cYuHOdlw3tfoCr_zDMezWbmV9JOQEEkA00nW7W8cZU0QnQC8IgKmYarY-RpMFtqA/s6000/52196467816_1ed4ace3be_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yf-dOJ_JQcafQ03GtF7xjwAR8DTPBL1llsP_N3PPwwCOYWTitkUZRY_Zte9iPPTnnqHTfd9Qox9C2QxP94ZOiO1lTg00XTx7matU2TvNkKMzmROQlW0H6CPhl5cYuHOdlw3tfoCr_zDMezWbmV9JOQEEkA00nW7W8cZU0QnQC8IgKmYarY-RpMFtqA/s320/52196467816_1ed4ace3be_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beetle markings on a lodgepole victim</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Lodgepole pine grows where other trees can't, like in the pumice-based soil I was hiking on. Accordingly, thin stands of scrawny lodgepole trees grew along the trail, which ran unerringly straight through them. Because of the harsh environment they grow in, it's hard to become a successful adult lodgepole pine tree and accordingly, the bleached bones of failed attempts at treehood from years past were strewn along and on the trail. At least the carpenter ants and woodpeckers were happy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLyD8fNg0UXW4ROumEiFuglYKFYhwfZ9jU4_NnVisVu90JSWHDOMvmpZgzKCSuJ_2EPQA2DEhm9qLvOf_kEJ_HtBfj_kmw_pL6xqDoLO1kMuDYctRTzm2jrbOQvTwV9OcgfkzkgOBJscl4gjAsfJpw8OuVtktpcSZI3WEOGgE1vI9CYSuoQb8mCRECA/s13252/52196950775_405577efda_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3594" data-original-width="13252" height="87" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLyD8fNg0UXW4ROumEiFuglYKFYhwfZ9jU4_NnVisVu90JSWHDOMvmpZgzKCSuJ_2EPQA2DEhm9qLvOf_kEJ_HtBfj_kmw_pL6xqDoLO1kMuDYctRTzm2jrbOQvTwV9OcgfkzkgOBJscl4gjAsfJpw8OuVtktpcSZI3WEOGgE1vI9CYSuoQb8mCRECA/s320/52196950775_405577efda_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nip Lake in all it's nippy glory</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After almost three miles of hiking on a gently undulating up-and-down trail, the path to Nip and Tuck Lakes was arrived at. It's almost as if Nip and Tuck Lakes are one single lake. You don't say "I think I'll nip over to Nip Lake" or "Tuck me in at Tuck Lake". Nope, it's "Nip and Tuck", forever inseparable as one, like Batman and Robin, like Marc Anthony and Cleopatra, or maybe like Lane and Richard. Just a narrow wooded isthmus about 20 yards wide is all that keeps us from referring to a single lake as "Tucknip". </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuyalGTLen-ED10KMZF1F8WAdsJsrqMYyC87meF7Hyq77otTOTkYqk0uQygJoCcuFEb49JZhVu2EBAaTaGEyzrhwMz2K7o-O0rXNFZgJqRCXHaHqUiZtX7qRTyGHGZb9M19zw-GQCi6RZWTEt-90SGy5oQcaj0XAKm7iMw_35WYvu_SA_6q2VxGJVEg/s5946/52196713979_e20b116b0e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3964" data-original-width="5946" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuyalGTLen-ED10KMZF1F8WAdsJsrqMYyC87meF7Hyq77otTOTkYqk0uQygJoCcuFEb49JZhVu2EBAaTaGEyzrhwMz2K7o-O0rXNFZgJqRCXHaHqUiZtX7qRTyGHGZb9M19zw-GQCi6RZWTEt-90SGy5oQcaj0XAKm7iMw_35WYvu_SA_6q2VxGJVEg/s320/52196713979_e20b116b0e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tuck Lake in all it's tucky glory</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Tuck Lake is the larger of the two lakes but smaller Nip is not without its charm. Marshy meadows surrounded both lakes and made shoreline exploration nigh impassable. Fortunately, this hike took place before mosquito season so no Deet was needed as I ate an active lunch, walking back and forth between the two lakes so as to give each equal viewing time. Come back in a few weeks though, and the mosquitoes will be most appreciative of your unwilling donation to their blood bank.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSjRJfnYT36JHY7TjPxVpgGjvB49v6IN0FxGpycAiOLM_I9-8PI01RfFN8LqoVUcFcWoTtVrOGD8ASYP1pb22Rr-BT1xRt6nONSQU_fjc5OwLZ7-Nz2MPximAuGNtYIKEe_5q-SfqHa8ifLTzd3dugNZOE-DgHUogME9E3J-6TQaVp0ad97UpHgR1ow/s6000/52196945235_85d2d38dc8_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSjRJfnYT36JHY7TjPxVpgGjvB49v6IN0FxGpycAiOLM_I9-8PI01RfFN8LqoVUcFcWoTtVrOGD8ASYP1pb22Rr-BT1xRt6nONSQU_fjc5OwLZ7-Nz2MPximAuGNtYIKEe_5q-SfqHa8ifLTzd3dugNZOE-DgHUogME9E3J-6TQaVp0ad97UpHgR1ow/s320/52196945235_85d2d38dc8_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink heather was abloom along the lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Small clumps of pink heather, which incidentally was my stage name when I was in the theater, bloomed within the lakeshore grasses along with some isolated specimens of shooting star. The color yellow was represented by the odd buttercup or two and "odd buttercup" is what they called me on the work crew. I'll stop now.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZtbqFONFTi3L8NTJadkYp0M8LKd6B6NR7Ewp32pN78iQ7RgPD7iJCDoXewfVPlheyr49TV8nEW8kW_syKUhfvPeFEl3vasIIL6nIlc7IOItBhgm6YwCIXJV2yMoxLyMLfeo0q0xVhBRo--HfPFC3UGKLqS5rxjwOVGXSIPHCuFrug3xDZkR9QJ52xuw/s6000/52196454583_d934f2bd87_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZtbqFONFTi3L8NTJadkYp0M8LKd6B6NR7Ewp32pN78iQ7RgPD7iJCDoXewfVPlheyr49TV8nEW8kW_syKUhfvPeFEl3vasIIL6nIlc7IOItBhgm6YwCIXJV2yMoxLyMLfeo0q0xVhBRo--HfPFC3UGKLqS5rxjwOVGXSIPHCuFrug3xDZkR9QJ52xuw/s320/52196454583_d934f2bd87_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pacific Crest Trail had no snow on it</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The easy terrain encountered on the hike in meant that it was also easy terrain on the hike out. And, after several miles of easy walking, I found myself back at the PCT Trailhead at Windigo Pass. It was still relatively early in the day, I had only hiked about five miles, and certainly I was dressed for the occasion, so I concocted a brilliant plan to bushwhack over to the Windigo Lakes for some extra lakes and mileage.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5XwyQ6rDYXVbIPdAD4ct_oNhseDAi5B-GH4jFDeeOCNC7VoHZ5b0DrEXoo_N82RK3Hey8f7yvT4cNUX9blYwe2hYaMeSiv1uzAQDGnd58M8Z-OrQl-OcMnUXR1YS6XgbeYyYDmnEoCq_3Sk2kuOQoUkfjk5HJh8Y8JbMEoDblB2W810-PEbDSQ226Q/s6000/52198294607_4fdfd69912_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5XwyQ6rDYXVbIPdAD4ct_oNhseDAi5B-GH4jFDeeOCNC7VoHZ5b0DrEXoo_N82RK3Hey8f7yvT4cNUX9blYwe2hYaMeSiv1uzAQDGnd58M8Z-OrQl-OcMnUXR1YS6XgbeYyYDmnEoCq_3Sk2kuOQoUkfjk5HJh8Y8JbMEoDblB2W810-PEbDSQ226Q/s320/52198294607_4fdfd69912_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time to bushwhack in slushy snow</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Windigo Lakes are two lakes that lie in the forest east of the Pacific Crest Trail. There is no trail to the lakes, so out came my GPS and I hiked up the PCT until I reached 5,900 feet of elevation, which was just a bit higher than the first of the two lakes. I then stepped off the PCT and headed out into the forest and that was when I found out my well-crafted plan had a major flaw. While the PCT had no snow on the trail tread, underneath the shady trees lay a veritable winter wonderland of slushy and mushy snow, and me without snowshoes. It was a tedious post-holing slog to the first Windigo Lake and a tedious slog back but I did get a nice view of Cowhorn Mountain in the distance. The second lake will have to wait for a snow-free day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeQaJlUmFORqPqoEyjllBD1NMhVNpFny2e_2euQWdTNjSdrWeLjsLDKV-cEbv-rd67EhXs5tvV0C3J0D-NHJwlnWwzAk7lHk8EhGQ2MhDiQXrVvgzmEPahBuPJch6EfD-fzBMmZGI1Q0V9rek_-rXm3y84ogfYxqTGy1O1RC4hX5pQS50W4rv_s_CTQ/s6000/52199563269_b100e60b02_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeQaJlUmFORqPqoEyjllBD1NMhVNpFny2e_2euQWdTNjSdrWeLjsLDKV-cEbv-rd67EhXs5tvV0C3J0D-NHJwlnWwzAk7lHk8EhGQ2MhDiQXrVvgzmEPahBuPJch6EfD-fzBMmZGI1Q0V9rek_-rXm3y84ogfYxqTGy1O1RC4hX5pQS50W4rv_s_CTQ/s320/52199563269_b100e60b02_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view at Windigo Lake's outlet</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So that was it for the hike to Nip and Tuck Lakes: short and sweet, just like me. The snow surrounding Windigo Lakes won't be there much longer and I may bring my backpack with me when the Friends of the Umpqua hike to nearby Cowhorn Mountain. The many lakes surrounding Nip and Tuck just beg for further exploration. Stay tuned!</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajNfRvYCTF9Hpny3AVaqmO212lxO04pgOIsLOPcEB2RIcNd3ZDFWLP-Eo4jC_7TeDVlPdjvX-0tXaj0MGa5vLU0gRt16G7Kd3b9XBZT26DSjz7c9CuLKxVQFhxw8VBsYYHvOMt0lZkO37XpeyrsJ8w6ZQDqRzfgGAsqGFjMgYKGVtMQSjJzl95oM8Yg/s6000/52195469387_c23358c7bb_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajNfRvYCTF9Hpny3AVaqmO212lxO04pgOIsLOPcEB2RIcNd3ZDFWLP-Eo4jC_7TeDVlPdjvX-0tXaj0MGa5vLU0gRt16G7Kd3b9XBZT26DSjz7c9CuLKxVQFhxw8VBsYYHvOMt0lZkO37XpeyrsJ8w6ZQDqRzfgGAsqGFjMgYKGVtMQSjJzl95oM8Yg/s320/52195469387_c23358c7bb_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clear running creeks were full of melted snow</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzX2zo" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5104027981?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E61900DC&rgbhex=DC0019&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-07-14T04:36:56+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5104027981" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Pacific Crest Trail, Crescent, OR 97733, USA43.3654568 -122.032204343.3592169646907 -122.04078736884766 43.371696635309291 -122.02362123115235tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-31948711750461758532022-06-25T08:00:00.718-07:002022-08-28T19:02:06.408-07:00Hemlock Creek<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFopJmrLQlLQ3trlT7jBiqteYO7N54xZbPF37HgpkCM86SW_L7s8SG4G8WbHEym5YTssDQH4GsjZAYC34N639tAAEN7JRHRY8Q1ESqfQrUCjYFBR24m49BQ8OfLpIc1TtccvW3TQbicL2iQb6RT-oDPc-nzkUi-rS2Qwoqqzef6iG1pUZ_KAas4SaSJg/s6000/52182331008_d70dac0fcb_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFopJmrLQlLQ3trlT7jBiqteYO7N54xZbPF37HgpkCM86SW_L7s8SG4G8WbHEym5YTssDQH4GsjZAYC34N639tAAEN7JRHRY8Q1ESqfQrUCjYFBR24m49BQ8OfLpIc1TtccvW3TQbicL2iQb6RT-oDPc-nzkUi-rS2Qwoqqzef6iG1pUZ_KAas4SaSJg/s320/52182331008_d70dac0fcb_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Sometimes, the forest is the hike and the hike is the forest. What I mean by that when you hike, there's usually a destination in mind, a place to go to, a particular something to see, as the reason for your being out on the trail in the first place. But then again, sometimes there is no <i>raison d'etre</i> for the day's venture, it's just about the being of it. <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recarea/?recid=63702" target="_blank">Hemlock Creek</a> was such a hike, because once I entered a forest sublime, it became all about the journey and not the destination.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixIQSJEIrXSnC7Y-DgL9XJBW1YTgqQbwmUPxqvRFgdnxivkwoViudVWkfoBvNme136-OC_fUHNluxlMG-MhU3vT5ra0dol7ZBqan9rQFLJmqtFq-OhHKZufphIdzZF5eAB1uLS58U4Dhq4eKlG9Wbv1bLLHMK0MN2RsaCh7YxgiXE0odPX2rf0_Hok4Q/s6000/52177272858_4b46418396_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixIQSJEIrXSnC7Y-DgL9XJBW1YTgqQbwmUPxqvRFgdnxivkwoViudVWkfoBvNme136-OC_fUHNluxlMG-MhU3vT5ra0dol7ZBqan9rQFLJmqtFq-OhHKZufphIdzZF5eAB1uLS58U4Dhq4eKlG9Wbv1bLLHMK0MN2RsaCh7YxgiXE0odPX2rf0_Hok4Q/s320/52177272858_4b46418396_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink rhododendron flowered next to Lake in the Woods</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This tree-centric hike began at smallish <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recreation/wateractivities/recarea/?recid=63724&actid=29" target="_blank">Lake in the Woods</a>, ringed not only by campers trying to escape the heat cooking the Umpqua Valley, but also by flowering rhododendron bushes gracing both lake and woods. Not wanting to disturb sleeping campers, I grabbed a use trail that skirted around the camping spots along the semi-stagnant lake. This led to some momentary confusion when I egressed onto a gravel road and had to spend a few minutes searching for the resumption of the trail. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvai2K3LJw0VBTsVAvpLrQDkzZKL8R-1QI_LG64n74ASeHk-3mqLH5iM2c3IVjE7b7BeTIE8Lz-7ruMOmbRxAuPeOISjO7Y1bZA34jGSOhbebRr0iAmO83APw8Kd6QXV917keo6BfW44Z3t4ebSre33ZCrh0v9O6374vyyz5KwOCf32d8g_3GWfUzFZw/s6000/52181319207_6f154a8711_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvai2K3LJw0VBTsVAvpLrQDkzZKL8R-1QI_LG64n74ASeHk-3mqLH5iM2c3IVjE7b7BeTIE8Lz-7ruMOmbRxAuPeOISjO7Y1bZA34jGSOhbebRr0iAmO83APw8Kd6QXV917keo6BfW44Z3t4ebSre33ZCrh0v9O6374vyyz5KwOCf32d8g_3GWfUzFZw/s320/52181319207_6f154a8711_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A log spans Hemlock Creek and tempts the adventurous</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the aforementioned gravel road, the trail entered a thick forest and headed uphill at a moderate grade. But who cares about uphill hiking when the forest was so out-of-this-world beautiful? The shade was as refreshing and as cool as a waterfall's mist. Sunlight filtered through trees, limbs, branches, and leaves, winding up on the trail as dappled light and shade. Life was good here and I considered staying in this place for the remainder of my days, it was so pleasant. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdvx7lg-Vl-3AYG3Jd1hjAtmtUAGcrIqHt_tSmrf9FDKqcMvb_femKAWDu3YezMslH9uWPA_pPUzZZZ6BqvzgaHOTQZRUtU0rcKCrrulXdgbSww_jkiNzWQTKwSx_cqrnO-w3U3P79bzb_EeTtCFFslhLy7boFMxFr8hHPP4sCImxSS8SM9Ion9zd8w/s6000/52177258211_fa3c9ef6ef_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdvx7lg-Vl-3AYG3Jd1hjAtmtUAGcrIqHt_tSmrf9FDKqcMvb_femKAWDu3YezMslH9uWPA_pPUzZZZ6BqvzgaHOTQZRUtU0rcKCrrulXdgbSww_jkiNzWQTKwSx_cqrnO-w3U3P79bzb_EeTtCFFslhLy7boFMxFr8hHPP4sCImxSS8SM9Ion9zd8w/s320/52177258211_fa3c9ef6ef_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elegant cat's ear with that fuzzy feeling</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A diverse collection of wildflowers mostly shared the forest in a harmonious rainbow coalition of specie and color. However, Columbia windflower and elegant cat's ear each practiced a form of floral apartheid, staking their claim on a particular patch of ground, making sure that not one pistil or stamen belonging to the lower castes of flower rabble dared cross over their territory. They couldn't stop me from taking photographs, though.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4Pnogfk2HY0pom2F9nwaTTxT59VEhGXs-UB5EjQDx6ZqYaIp2Ggd5dBDoLEiSaqexlXvj0PzALb7jmkV5pgSEHhluzV3sqw0dAqrfi0F4xzyg7cCqN8tcj12JoYr6TmEvwV1971h7tQwzoVVvVfMr_oUSDNEXbyqlOxypuLYsoLZfeogXuS7YwAlDA/s5853/52177255951_aaebec0a89_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3902" data-original-width="5853" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4Pnogfk2HY0pom2F9nwaTTxT59VEhGXs-UB5EjQDx6ZqYaIp2Ggd5dBDoLEiSaqexlXvj0PzALb7jmkV5pgSEHhluzV3sqw0dAqrfi0F4xzyg7cCqN8tcj12JoYr6TmEvwV1971h7tQwzoVVvVfMr_oUSDNEXbyqlOxypuLYsoLZfeogXuS7YwAlDA/s320/52177255951_aaebec0a89_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Hemlock Falls wasn't easy to get to</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Hemlock Creek was seldom seen from its namesake trail but did provide a couple of notable waterfalls to gawk at. The first cascade was Lower Hemlock Falls, which was kind of hard to see, you have to bushwhack a bit to get a decent photo thereof. The second waterfall, encountered on a side creek, is Clover Falls and is a lot harder to see, seeing how it's effectively screened from view by trees and tree parts. In fact, I didn't even notice the cascade when I hiked past but caught it when I returned in the opposite direction. Such are my keen powers of observation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-x1BxUfnAE6x1jVbObdkZOWilycfwWXdHpFutunkHoHJraVdureWOJOIdJ7ZW8-2izgbLcVJnncWGg3Md4qHRKwECFQRxT_7LHFGr6vgKy_o0oR1JP5xOGZx4igOZXVrNK4tWzZT14fXqcPIgcd5IEQjv_J1D5Tiy3ZIXTG50RXTTOWSPeiAijEOaIQ/s6000/52179732876_7dc4e1e321_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-x1BxUfnAE6x1jVbObdkZOWilycfwWXdHpFutunkHoHJraVdureWOJOIdJ7ZW8-2izgbLcVJnncWGg3Md4qHRKwECFQRxT_7LHFGr6vgKy_o0oR1JP5xOGZx4igOZXVrNK4tWzZT14fXqcPIgcd5IEQjv_J1D5Tiy3ZIXTG50RXTTOWSPeiAijEOaIQ/s320/52179732876_7dc4e1e321_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail into the forest darkness</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After the two waterfalls, the route temporarily departed from Hemlock Creek and inscribed what seemed like an endless amount of switchbacks but were probably only four. My GPS said I was about to cross another forest road but the back and forth through the dense vegetation made the road crossing seem a lot farther away. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nZ_5cPupoutTLJ5yEP20DxSguAiPb8oVEclxqSTid3iHzAHSBpr1jE-njIZojKBR2XRShTzgkSnf1LsVwWjmitbE1vmrfQ0gqyo4ci_m-fuaJHW-W00GiF_5Tc4c1r_pWminnxfGOMR4ynvZYGFGB48SEAWWdhq7DwcgZdeFjge6UIwdMjLREtX_BQ/s6000/52180217905_4e4d803082_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nZ_5cPupoutTLJ5yEP20DxSguAiPb8oVEclxqSTid3iHzAHSBpr1jE-njIZojKBR2XRShTzgkSnf1LsVwWjmitbE1vmrfQ0gqyo4ci_m-fuaJHW-W00GiF_5Tc4c1r_pWminnxfGOMR4ynvZYGFGB48SEAWWdhq7DwcgZdeFjge6UIwdMjLREtX_BQ/s320/52180217905_4e4d803082_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stout bridges crossed and re-crossed Hemlock Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After crossing the forest road, the trail did provide some quality Hemlock Creek time and miles. The path crossed and re-crossed the pristine and clear-flowing creek passing underneath the stout footbridges. Initially, the bridges were sturdy and sound except for one span showing its age by sagging in the middle, just like some hikers do. The final creek crossing had no bridge at all and required an easy ankle-deep wade.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY_CK-0Jv1IlKol_-stuxT6MV8nsAEzrHNaYP4vJenwMhvizTwXB0DWdjldH_ohkRN1595P0enmHhdn2jge9frKcVF4O0eqxgVFG972xbvRCdSHR9hxoxFAC-D3LUOOBpduCIVo6fzE7SUUkUHp6uf77q-GxZq7J6M8yJIVeJQNQyTQYmp5UknUhPUA/s6000/52180205520_01a7709a17_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCY_CK-0Jv1IlKol_-stuxT6MV8nsAEzrHNaYP4vJenwMhvizTwXB0DWdjldH_ohkRN1595P0enmHhdn2jge9frKcVF4O0eqxgVFG972xbvRCdSHR9hxoxFAC-D3LUOOBpduCIVo6fzE7SUUkUHp6uf77q-GxZq7J6M8yJIVeJQNQyTQYmp5UknUhPUA/s320/52180205520_01a7709a17_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The forest was a pleasure to hike through</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once Hemlock Creek was forded, the route commenced a more rigorous climb through the forest in yet another series of switchbacks that seemingly went on forever but probably only numbered four. Orange and salmon-colored clumps of coral fungus pushed their way into existence along the trail, emerging from the dark depths of the earth below. Flowers bloomed in the forest undergrowth and always, there was that delightfully mottled light keeping things cooler than they would otherwise have been. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGW9WaiLsVEKab_y0MtIF-LjRI76ecyzNfxPBdTMZbeFJsSWePF_y1UTlysVg1AbjTw_qivP5ZQZzOnWlHYMzXgY4N0yYEYHUfxugtYATDIbZHrZTUiImcBNcMFyTOFiXkRw0Di8E3hbZL5JeWXNdKm2eXOMXYKq6cwCneH5ITnHnB7fQXFF3fM4W4Q/s6000/52179711656_bbee6aee7a_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGW9WaiLsVEKab_y0MtIF-LjRI76ecyzNfxPBdTMZbeFJsSWePF_y1UTlysVg1AbjTw_qivP5ZQZzOnWlHYMzXgY4N0yYEYHUfxugtYATDIbZHrZTUiImcBNcMFyTOFiXkRw0Di8E3hbZL5JeWXNdKm2eXOMXYKq6cwCneH5ITnHnB7fQXFF3fM4W4Q/s320/52179711656_bbee6aee7a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The meadows at the Yellowjacket Loop junction</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a mile of slogging ever on upward, the trail grade eased up and the forest thinned out, providing views of intermittent meadows with willow thickets in the middle, where Hemlock Creek flowed somewhere within the small trees, hidden away from the prying eyes of passing hikers. And just like that, the forest ended and the trail spit me out into some large meadows near Hemlock Lake. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcveWRiu2jOyHt7b74GrRTNfnBtn0CZh1kESiskRR-GeWaLvLvkqQsDVr43MhabTS2UFae1yrWJmF_t3yxGfSzugPdpXNMyONtL7JxxfNu8Gg3AMZm4x2qspe_diMK7Qm_JM26CtBs73YxMKMjWsYZbumeb7yBR_12V_Rzr1dB1C8647IV6KV0nLji6w/s6000/52182580509_5c72316d05_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcveWRiu2jOyHt7b74GrRTNfnBtn0CZh1kESiskRR-GeWaLvLvkqQsDVr43MhabTS2UFae1yrWJmF_t3yxGfSzugPdpXNMyONtL7JxxfNu8Gg3AMZm4x2qspe_diMK7Qm_JM26CtBs73YxMKMjWsYZbumeb7yBR_12V_Rzr1dB1C8647IV6KV0nLji6w/s320/52182580509_5c72316d05_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wasp enjoyed the shade, just like me</td></tr></tbody></table><br />These meadows are part of the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/umpqua/recreation/wateractivities/recarea/?recid=63766&actid=51" target="_blank">Yellowjacket Loop</a>, a great hike in its own right if you like meadows (and who doesn't?), wildflowers, and yellowjackets. I briefly entertained a notion of hiking the full Yellowjacket Loop and turning this moderate eight mile hike into an exhausting fourteener. But it was a hot afternoon by now, giving me the perfect excuse to turn around and head back to Lake of the Woods. But you know I would have done the longer loop except for the heat, and quit your sniggering! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiJSrRw3y0OBpTto5s8lBmHzLPpGJkCeE4FBzY7DGDMOIHLv60321z6Z7SxvZIllTl1iDipwUhtM9OCMS7_hLnrZ-Bf24TFRTviAx3fwM1-PeLhy5HUIUNohb-mDpGSkPTtZMz0ycjwGLsyBW6e7wnYmI6ymcA-_HfrxxPpvT_ikDbtxqGOkiiNp0CQ/s6000/52181311087_a74fd84c73_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiJSrRw3y0OBpTto5s8lBmHzLPpGJkCeE4FBzY7DGDMOIHLv60321z6Z7SxvZIllTl1iDipwUhtM9OCMS7_hLnrZ-Bf24TFRTviAx3fwM1-PeLhy5HUIUNohb-mDpGSkPTtZMz0ycjwGLsyBW6e7wnYmI6ymcA-_HfrxxPpvT_ikDbtxqGOkiiNp0CQ/s320/52181311087_a74fd84c73_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fern frozen in mid-furl</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was all downhill back to the opaque green waters of Lake of the Woods, through the same beautifully shaded forest I had so enjoyed when hiking up. But, the easy downhill walking allowed me to better appreciate the shade, rampant greenery, and tall trees just that much more. When the hike ended at the trailhead kiosk, I turned around and said out loud "Thanks, forest!" but not too loudly. No need to get the nearby campers wondering about the lone sweaty dude talking to trees.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMT5BSwpEb2dh2dN92RWG-LOK4bL9x7nYyMdeaG4bN5oGNPppf0wu0EMb-0ZtbPNgVOyYT73_LfJFYw2BTaXNpkROyyYluhG33Sc4afpXiWJKUxUcXLpTcIfaxvETHApH3Z3Bb1G-XpAjzaxFXP9JOIIF9Kp0h3omLOhAIPCei5iuEnvqZhoanJkbjg/s5502/52181306937_7deb57021f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3668" data-original-width="5502" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMT5BSwpEb2dh2dN92RWG-LOK4bL9x7nYyMdeaG4bN5oGNPppf0wu0EMb-0ZtbPNgVOyYT73_LfJFYw2BTaXNpkROyyYluhG33Sc4afpXiWJKUxUcXLpTcIfaxvETHApH3Z3Bb1G-XpAjzaxFXP9JOIIF9Kp0h3omLOhAIPCei5iuEnvqZhoanJkbjg/s320/52181306937_7deb57021f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peace like a forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzW11d" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5074039264?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-06-27T01:26:32+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5074039264" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Hemlock Creek Trailhead, NF-421, Oregon, USA43.216609 -122.72079143.210354274870852 -122.72937406884766 43.222863725129145 -122.71220793115235tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-16210110807808966782022-06-18T08:00:00.738-07:002022-08-07T13:12:50.641-07:00Da-Ku-Be-Te-De Trail<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvBCv9JhJkNTNxn7J1URnmgKFmEtQBdGq4pYgvaWJLaGs1120blrN2VpSFFTpq-5SonmMQ-cXRoJBPucAUCzEM4DP77xyDG6iOoFaKhfk8fu5CtBQN-Yqf5we3_ezYxTkL9X1Mjt2RYZgI2cjJ06RkcM_gdbTwDthPV6DJ4KN6BHc3db_aAzWZkEuxA/s6000/52163751475_379584b5d9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvBCv9JhJkNTNxn7J1URnmgKFmEtQBdGq4pYgvaWJLaGs1120blrN2VpSFFTpq-5SonmMQ-cXRoJBPucAUCzEM4DP77xyDG6iOoFaKhfk8fu5CtBQN-Yqf5we3_ezYxTkL9X1Mjt2RYZgI2cjJ06RkcM_gdbTwDthPV6DJ4KN6BHc3db_aAzWZkEuxA/s320/52163751475_379584b5d9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Da-Ku-Be-Te-De just nicely rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Well, maybe not. I was watching a YouTube video by some dude who hiked on the </span><span><a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=70180" target="_blank">Da-Ku-Be-Te-De Trail</a> </span><span>and boy, did he ever struggle to pronounce the trail's name. He eventually gave up after he sprained his tongue and suffered severe mouth contusions. Speaking from personal experience though, it's pretty simple to say when your other native language is Spanish. Fortunately for the linguistically challenged, pronunciation and elocution are not a prerequisite for enjoyment of the hike. Just let your boots do the talking, the trail will always understand.</span></div></span><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQtNMnFgwv0YAqDmeJ71SABmV4MdeLbD8zZhu42Em7mqTfs92BLv44e6u9umqXyfq2IbTCeQywWQBpW6Ty6xwUGlUEgr_aK18qMD0RZV7vqQIksGh4vMor_JdGbhxU8x9whNtgvxS39IZk5uzxeX4pplfN9X5nW-tf8eNlHVhR2OtOc4OycxMDezR9w/s6000/52160461963_1428610fc9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQtNMnFgwv0YAqDmeJ71SABmV4MdeLbD8zZhu42Em7mqTfs92BLv44e6u9umqXyfq2IbTCeQywWQBpW6Ty6xwUGlUEgr_aK18qMD0RZV7vqQIksGh4vMor_JdGbhxU8x9whNtgvxS39IZk5uzxeX4pplfN9X5nW-tf8eNlHVhR2OtOc4OycxMDezR9w/s320/52160461963_1428610fc9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Once upon a morn so dark and dreary,<br />while I hiked, weak and weary..."</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">It had been raining the week prior to this hike along the shore of <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=74277" target="_blank">Applegate Lake</a>. When I began walking, the sky was overcast, dark, and dreary, matching my mood perfectly. Stepson Carl had been badly injured in a work accident and the worry about his well-being definitely harshed my mellow. Hopefully the sun would just stay hidden behind the moody clouds, no need to unduly mellow my harsh. However, as I hiked along the trail, the day would eventually bifurcate into equal parts sunny and cloudy, improving my mood and overall outlook, despite my best intentions to do otherwise.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZK6_Rd0NYvv_nnPQqJvwMGfmuW6KUy-RKONXBihpTg6fpdfiLSWrw5NMidfRRSKiEzeYyucz6fZAL_CLK5Lr3IzG1dGbhVp9IT7wdmuVLnlu1zcTcY1gIxhUFO--mXzDhi0OfdkC_6Acy72SnWdPhs2M7SXaEamGl6vTYwgSAdJo_rBj2VT0gl-ZmQ/s6000/52165895776_efd968a333_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZK6_Rd0NYvv_nnPQqJvwMGfmuW6KUy-RKONXBihpTg6fpdfiLSWrw5NMidfRRSKiEzeYyucz6fZAL_CLK5Lr3IzG1dGbhVp9IT7wdmuVLnlu1zcTcY1gIxhUFO--mXzDhi0OfdkC_6Acy72SnWdPhs2M7SXaEamGl6vTYwgSAdJo_rBj2VT0gl-ZmQ/s320/52165895776_efd968a333_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not your basic wilderness hike</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Da-Ku-Be-Te-De Trail is part of a trail network that circumnavigates Applegate Lake and this hike began at <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=70234" target="_blank">Hart-tish Park</a> which boasts a campground, picnic area, boat ramp, small general store, and hundreds of squealing children recreating in the lake's cold waters. The civilized start to the hike continued as I walked past the campground, especially since the trail was paved at that point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67awwJnnNkewYcvuWU6WJcjsuNZCUWkiSCGdeuvHvRbgxuiiB9B7BbbsfXjQhMcIooNZGAitkw6izlzgdd_4jGby60u-wkdhEWIKGLfWFuj58RRVxYDExMMMnqXX-BChN0CfNnxNDl7yPRxxXvN1iCp34f-njmhoVsUa7_zxZCzKt6I50hFyMTcPotA/s5811/52159450482_08bf2ac242_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3874" data-original-width="5811" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67awwJnnNkewYcvuWU6WJcjsuNZCUWkiSCGdeuvHvRbgxuiiB9B7BbbsfXjQhMcIooNZGAitkw6izlzgdd_4jGby60u-wkdhEWIKGLfWFuj58RRVxYDExMMMnqXX-BChN0CfNnxNDl7yPRxxXvN1iCp34f-njmhoVsUa7_zxZCzKt6I50hFyMTcPotA/s320/52159450482_08bf2ac242_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mirrory</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After several years of minimal precipitation and maximal wildfires, it was nice to receive a lot of rain last winter, leaving Applegate Lake full to the brim with water, as every lake should be. The air was quiet and still, and the lake reflected the gray clouds in the sky on its mirrory surface and I don't think "mirrory" is really a word, but I'm still going with it. In general, the body of water sported an alpinesque vibe, seeing how the narrow fiord-like lake is surrounded by tall craggy peaks still flecked with snow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6RRTG-MUvVQutoPAbIwagvtJWCp7VwV3j47Wws9jushOqiwC2fI7MM36Ya55z8YqNdAm2KiskV0OMqfLGXLmKKtZIP8JFaPEXl2Z7fLrCYGqzu1fvPx_6V2eQ1tigDJHHsX9jKwkJumydHwTCAWcqG_WgU76HGeGvXORzUaHjXSHNfmvl3SEHobrLmA/s5841/52159432157_56dcfef9f7_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3894" data-original-width="5841" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6RRTG-MUvVQutoPAbIwagvtJWCp7VwV3j47Wws9jushOqiwC2fI7MM36Ya55z8YqNdAm2KiskV0OMqfLGXLmKKtZIP8JFaPEXl2Z7fLrCYGqzu1fvPx_6V2eQ1tigDJHHsX9jKwkJumydHwTCAWcqG_WgU76HGeGvXORzUaHjXSHNfmvl3SEHobrLmA/s320/52159432157_56dcfef9f7_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mule Mountain rises beyond the lake's dam</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Even though the trail closely followed the shore, dense woods surrounded the track and at times, it was like there was no lake at all. But periodic openings in the tree cover allowed me to observe some of the surrounding lakeside topography, like <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=70258" target="_blank">Little Grayback Mountain</a>, whose tip-top generally hid somewhere within the low cloud cover. Across the lake was Elliot Creek Ridge with <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=70364" target="_blank">Stein Butte</a> being the most prominent high point on the forested ridge. Not all the scenery was mountain-centric though, as the pronounced bay of Squaw Creek's arm reposed on the opposite shore below Elliot Creek Ridge.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWF5PiX2Nk7z7_tCP67D3CTMHI3GcXdrpp_I6kaslec7g7bSJ2vajo-SfaSYQdQRueQpgLTJIPvf4Z0IOpDhVItxBVAanf9TpeuO8IvLduNQCif1s4wLuMmD8sLIAo-NSuiF_4UMG-z75fEsXcKo9H3ruPwQzqenvEpYpiSKKuijXG1FPTQemq7Jqfg/s6000/52160455908_f84f2d3173_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWF5PiX2Nk7z7_tCP67D3CTMHI3GcXdrpp_I6kaslec7g7bSJ2vajo-SfaSYQdQRueQpgLTJIPvf4Z0IOpDhVItxBVAanf9TpeuO8IvLduNQCif1s4wLuMmD8sLIAo-NSuiF_4UMG-z75fEsXcKo9H3ruPwQzqenvEpYpiSKKuijXG1FPTQemq7Jqfg/s320/52160455908_f84f2d3173_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden yarrow brightened up the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Wildflowers were a thing on this hike, too. Much of my time was spent bent over or lying prone on the trail, photographing small plants with colorful blooms representing all colors of the rainbow. Many of the plant species were regular Siskiyou denizens, seemingly exotic to this particular denizen of the Oregon Cascades country. Elegant brodeaia, ookow, checkermallow, golden yarrow, and paintbrush all did their part in colorizing the hike and much photography ensued.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKF98I9C_bkKUkBuL1d2Zxd8sJYObFp7mI96nzJA6YgxeWcsjJxgkqeDY8xqNd4IuW-wuF-AsjtZh8JZXBz4JpE8GJxRIxNKM7ZkNz1IBVS3OB47SkXdVg1gMw5f79Ki1NW66KpaIK20b2XOPujs9m7qIsfFSVimFwDzuiHNg_zGWqcprY-HYFFYqIQ/s6000/52163241621_02d27541f3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKF98I9C_bkKUkBuL1d2Zxd8sJYObFp7mI96nzJA6YgxeWcsjJxgkqeDY8xqNd4IuW-wuF-AsjtZh8JZXBz4JpE8GJxRIxNKM7ZkNz1IBVS3OB47SkXdVg1gMw5f79Ki1NW66KpaIK20b2XOPujs9m7qIsfFSVimFwDzuiHNg_zGWqcprY-HYFFYqIQ/s320/52163241621_02d27541f3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ticks await my presence on the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Intermittently, the woods gave way to small meadows and open grassy fields. Somewhat paranoid about the small biting creatures that lurk in the grass, I performed frequent tick checks, particularly right after a round of photo-grazing at grass level. I'm glad to report only one eight-legged vermin was found crawling on my pants leg, and luckily that was before it found its way to the delicious O'Neill blood flowing underneath my preciously soft and tender skin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9rJzrpAPO7uIyMkttNplmIfufnztkwaB4Ylt7zR_CjzlWYx5r3M3EpvAZCEKGPvn9DoSUXdSZ0XrPZj6FW23EAy_RiDFDJNOMn-os5dP0R7sRgV--ReuYlbacPnXLAfLZsfjE8M2rOImWPeqUW3CoeiDHV6xypNWSL9WANIQ0YWDjhbGDk8lvQ62YQ/s6000/52163248376_1ebee972f4_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9rJzrpAPO7uIyMkttNplmIfufnztkwaB4Ylt7zR_CjzlWYx5r3M3EpvAZCEKGPvn9DoSUXdSZ0XrPZj6FW23EAy_RiDFDJNOMn-os5dP0R7sRgV--ReuYlbacPnXLAfLZsfjE8M2rOImWPeqUW3CoeiDHV6xypNWSL9WANIQ0YWDjhbGDk8lvQ62YQ/s320/52163248376_1ebee972f4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Da-Ku-Be-Te-De Trail follows<br />the shore of Applegate Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As the miles slowly accrued, the lake's dam, eminently visible at the beginning of the hike, soon receded from view and it was easy to pretend Applegate Lake was then a natural body of water. On a clear day, the high peaks of the Red Buttes Wilderness, most notably those of the Red Buttes themselves, are an impressive sight from the shore. Unfortunately though, all that sumptuous snow-capped mountain scenery was hidden from sight by the brooding cloud cover on this latest visit.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWLcSOPxGTKtjVDUMxYzMvDCd6PWCgdFT2ydGGELjHFs54LP8nszZCQMpzslleJOZXMC7sSiNEPnXYe2Tsv6Haquyhb2uJKPOOtc9ZRIvouPrC63yJenUKU6WKJfNZljEA3OTEtFp5AKTuHj-B0aJMb24DaKqNQhtCjyqaIHDEHjPCVRvgHILSRsimQ/s6000/52166146049_bd66a5459e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWLcSOPxGTKtjVDUMxYzMvDCd6PWCgdFT2ydGGELjHFs54LP8nszZCQMpzslleJOZXMC7sSiNEPnXYe2Tsv6Haquyhb2uJKPOOtc9ZRIvouPrC63yJenUKU6WKJfNZljEA3OTEtFp5AKTuHj-B0aJMb24DaKqNQhtCjyqaIHDEHjPCVRvgHILSRsimQ/s320/52166146049_bd66a5459e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail intersection near Watkins Campground</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After about four miles of pleasant and mostly level hiking, a wooden footbridge and trail intersection marked my arrival at <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/rogue-siskiyou/recarea/?recid=70404" target="_blank">Watkins Campground</a>. To continue hiking further around the lake required a fairly lengthy road walk, which made the campground my logical turnaround point. If I wanted to hike on pavement, I would have just walked back and forth a bunch of times on the campground path at Hart-tish Park.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2c8hj3Sw3t_MQ237Stc8WGFieVe7txsdsv6SV4NmVMQzb3wySJ7o6f0FrPwVFVZBSOsjyv745cWnlxfZHawl_Z0hj8vXkV7eOCYbQeE6NakzU-qAawPwCPqrunvjkUzoFfRb5EIXU2KOe3kgv3vomG4fXPPwoXF_P_7OYkPJWOLuZQMfBNy5RAi81Hw/s5994/52166388380_7af8f3c8c0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3996" data-original-width="5994" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2c8hj3Sw3t_MQ237Stc8WGFieVe7txsdsv6SV4NmVMQzb3wySJ7o6f0FrPwVFVZBSOsjyv745cWnlxfZHawl_Z0hj8vXkV7eOCYbQeE6NakzU-qAawPwCPqrunvjkUzoFfRb5EIXU2KOe3kgv3vomG4fXPPwoXF_P_7OYkPJWOLuZQMfBNy5RAi81Hw/s320/52166388380_7af8f3c8c0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can see most of the Red Buttes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />On the way back, the whole semi-stormy vibe completely changed as the clouds began to break up and dissipate. More and more, blue sky began to hold sway above the lake, but the clouds resisted mightily while I hiked below, fully entertained by the meteorological contest of wills. At the end of the hike, the Red Buttes, looming large on the Siskiyou crest, did finally make a brief appearance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY-52PIvGt5fvJTOjAJkBAlijT1Mti57dgz8N_p0nFeg6W8xDigRmdvVfb3RatWwUNdUIHXAiv6DURu0eydBDvdCS9R8S3ZnB7W2kcm0JHDeG9dpW8SXZn6gky9c6j3OEP-BSAOFh9LZxvy5HNyxVEZdlBoDW50Qr-tN1tpBKTAeu7Ugf9EJWLEyUvg/s7050/52166140904_b884819ff0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3580" data-original-width="7050" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY-52PIvGt5fvJTOjAJkBAlijT1Mti57dgz8N_p0nFeg6W8xDigRmdvVfb3RatWwUNdUIHXAiv6DURu0eydBDvdCS9R8S3ZnB7W2kcm0JHDeG9dpW8SXZn6gky9c6j3OEP-BSAOFh9LZxvy5HNyxVEZdlBoDW50Qr-tN1tpBKTAeu7Ugf9EJWLEyUvg/s320/52166140904_b884819ff0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue sky began to rule the day, come afternoon</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This hike had been another exercise in mental health, allowing me to assimilate myself back into civilization and generally mimic socially acceptable behavior. Totally enjoyable it was and I'll probably return to this trail in the future, for the backpack trip around Applegate Lake is on my to-do list. Because the trail around the lake is relatively level, it would be a pleasant backpack trip and probably is as easy as pronouncing Da-Ku-Be-Te-De.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo-LESGrt2qR72ueZxf94qmccS1Y-ul_s-recSO_TvFHnqlzEarpitoNURP7BkfGfl29WCO4RGDthqcFfCV8Ca3nlwEkXsPYyUEgphSmIetjCZXk253AfJnPpsgz4J5qjjYUVFPG0_sODHU5MnxUC0KtmKs8KGZ1hPOd9F_mLm0LaL1RXtuBYQuXGyw/s5382/52166145114_37ed90f920_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3588" data-original-width="5382" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo-LESGrt2qR72ueZxf94qmccS1Y-ul_s-recSO_TvFHnqlzEarpitoNURP7BkfGfl29WCO4RGDthqcFfCV8Ca3nlwEkXsPYyUEgphSmIetjCZXk253AfJnPpsgz4J5qjjYUVFPG0_sODHU5MnxUC0KtmKs8KGZ1hPOd9F_mLm0LaL1RXtuBYQuXGyw/s320/52166145114_37ed90f920_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy for you to say!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzV5jU" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5074038763?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-06-27T01:25:29+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5074038763" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Applegate Lake Hart-Tish Park Jacksonville, OR 9753042.0509224 -123.125766142.04454936383884 -123.13434916884766 42.057295436161155 -123.11718303115235tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-53737491387392910052022-05-27T13:01:00.686-07:002022-07-12T15:41:00.310-07:00Rogue River Trail (backpack)<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Q0GMPEK2dC5YMAGzZN35wqILL8ZkGI08miyfTUhoY95Ep0-d0_UALsIxJTVhTaoaWzVRFR6EtAH5LCM2ZH4WGie5hW1P1q2i6wxGTMrZXG3bzPpestm9Olutsg4KR7jdsKW8YWYNUsN3MkTXOHSzVZRe_WONxS_meYpS3Ib6ZydabkcY7fuBJBmP7w/s6000/52115544410_33868fb91b_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Q0GMPEK2dC5YMAGzZN35wqILL8ZkGI08miyfTUhoY95Ep0-d0_UALsIxJTVhTaoaWzVRFR6EtAH5LCM2ZH4WGie5hW1P1q2i6wxGTMrZXG3bzPpestm9Olutsg4KR7jdsKW8YWYNUsN3MkTXOHSzVZRe_WONxS_meYpS3Ib6ZydabkcY7fuBJBmP7w/s320/52115544410_33868fb91b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />So there we were on the last day of our <a href="https://www.blm.gov/sites/blm.gov/files/rogue_river_trail_color_2011.pdf" target="_blank">Rogue River Trail backpack</a> trip, eating lunch in the shade and sitting next to the trail. A fellow backpacker came up from the opposite direction and as is customary, we greeted each other, he by giving us a friendly nod and a curt acknowledgment of "Gentlemen". Three out of the four people in our party thought it no big deal while one was singularly nonplussed. The one irritated member of our quartet was not gentleman nor man and Missy was fuming at being so mistaken for a member of the male species. "Couldn't he see that I'm not a man?" she wailed, our laughter no tonic for her discomfiture. We decided Missy's trail name could be Sir or Mister, but looking at her long braids draping over the front of each shoulder, I'm of the opinion that our erstwhile dude could have no greater honor than to accept with pride, her given trail name of "Willie Nelson".</div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b>Day 1</b></span></h1><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSs1pSl-srdVdfXXzQ1H6qF7JA5aZ2uTsJ8PV3NcMbiogOXZguwsHbK0SDdinT9DZN4EWxszMRUwfht6mFOGSBRM-UtA5JhhVg9qxdmsSprUr9ajMFkjvWv_sdhCzHopWg5opmwllaHtNmg7YI0F7J74diVbCgaqCpbOwx16fWiXeL2Zz5gx-dhUVog/s6000/52115052196_f2a436208f_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSs1pSl-srdVdfXXzQ1H6qF7JA5aZ2uTsJ8PV3NcMbiogOXZguwsHbK0SDdinT9DZN4EWxszMRUwfht6mFOGSBRM-UtA5JhhVg9qxdmsSprUr9ajMFkjvWv_sdhCzHopWg5opmwllaHtNmg7YI0F7J74diVbCgaqCpbOwx16fWiXeL2Zz5gx-dhUVog/s320/52115052196_f2a436208f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden iris put on a show for<br />the entire time of our visit</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first day of our forty mile journey was overcast but we (Rogue River Trail newcomers Missy, Mike, and Terry) were off and hiking anyway, except for yours truly, who had to backtrack to the car to retrieve a rain hat, which would be sorely needed on this trip. But at least I get the Golden Boot Award for hiking farther than everybody else. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEima0o2yx1IIGpHZA5h5NHqp33jLak2Vi68WswmPp62nK8NHMv2pMXBA02vIpEmxXOvZbnCt4cF7X6pZvkz37zCxDpaD78o_LlVDJfuodnk_2MgAW7NFjHCW_g7ORnKlAgB7ZnxijcMDYCI29yQX13TJZq43g7_x2_cCABBHt3gic-FsUGL4tlnBZjx-Q/s5268/52115085803_76154e0a09_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3512" data-original-width="5268" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEima0o2yx1IIGpHZA5h5NHqp33jLak2Vi68WswmPp62nK8NHMv2pMXBA02vIpEmxXOvZbnCt4cF7X6pZvkz37zCxDpaD78o_LlVDJfuodnk_2MgAW7NFjHCW_g7ORnKlAgB7ZnxijcMDYCI29yQX13TJZq43g7_x2_cCABBHt3gic-FsUGL4tlnBZjx-Q/s320/52115085803_76154e0a09_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whiskey Creek, as we arrived</td></tr></tbody></table><br />All participants were familiar with the first three miles to Whiskey Creek, but once we passed that first major stream, it was all new trail for my Rogue River Trail newbs. However, by the time we reached Whiskey Creek, we had all become accustomed to the basic pattern of the trail, consisting of a climb to a cliff overlooking the river in its canyon and then a descent down to a tributary creek, followed by another climb away from the creek to a cliff overlooking the river. Up and down, in and out, and repeat for forty miles. Also repeated for forty miles were the soft caresses of poison oak leaves on our arms and legs as that pernicious shrub was constantly encroaching the trail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBikSxxMBERLmP3Y7Yd8RcEmKMDj5PRUFmmUpIHhrxfOh6J0sexJ715JKAKKH_0CE8uQgQwh1nECD7FuPNO1b1JpWh1l5t5qJwlPr181jAygBO0qnAM1Vm7GOSyWxXDf_WDrzxS07jLQ3IfzAcp2UXeSWF0MYd_QlCIEtQbwdRGJr7_u0JLuZh-lEMEA/s6000/52115287944_310e49960a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBikSxxMBERLmP3Y7Yd8RcEmKMDj5PRUFmmUpIHhrxfOh6J0sexJ715JKAKKH_0CE8uQgQwh1nECD7FuPNO1b1JpWh1l5t5qJwlPr181jAygBO0qnAM1Vm7GOSyWxXDf_WDrzxS07jLQ3IfzAcp2UXeSWF0MYd_QlCIEtQbwdRGJr7_u0JLuZh-lEMEA/s320/52115287944_310e49960a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These flower smelled lovely, Blogger<br />needs to add a scratch n' sniff option</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We passed creeks Whiskey, Alder, Russian, Bronco, and Bunker over the first nine miles of trail and so far so good as far as my aged legs were concerned. However, the next three'ish miles had some pretty steep grades and by the time we reached Horseshoe Bend I was thoroughly pooped, but on the plus side, we had knocked off nearly twelve miles which wasn't bad for us old hikers.</div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><b>Day 2</b></h1><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLYVnvHZltDE8HoZ4Stsx2h9oXdYSzo074gaFT1mLoEPfBw1UYnai-M2UA2jqsgEQMRQYze5w3oYNqxp_VULVr6wRm1hgOwVf6FB4GjRXd7xSGBogbby08pl5TmES8Br41-UZfmDHLgXns6EtvUgvD7PdeaYmbnr6AaGHwN7DnPZkDs1zM67G4D2Gm4Q/s6000/52117313031_f81af0485a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLYVnvHZltDE8HoZ4Stsx2h9oXdYSzo074gaFT1mLoEPfBw1UYnai-M2UA2jqsgEQMRQYze5w3oYNqxp_VULVr6wRm1hgOwVf6FB4GjRXd7xSGBogbby08pl5TmES8Br41-UZfmDHLgXns6EtvUgvD7PdeaYmbnr6AaGHwN7DnPZkDs1zM67G4D2Gm4Q/s320/52117313031_f81af0485a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cloudy dawn yet Terry said<br />the storm was dissipating</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Day 2 will live in infamy in the memories of all participants. Although, there were just some clouds in the sky when we struck camp, the day would soon be as wet as the interior of a water balloon, Terry's cheery and overly optimistic prognostication of "it's dissipating" notwithstanding.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07sUUiVDasZhu8gjmdLa28zaczh1L0qA4BwQodP5rtHu2OkCRDeHPtVxM7datmxp47uMNhHqjaJIGIg0OMkqrrN3gqXu33AzbM6YiW4IW3YTY3wF6k7n7oPBs0sgBpP-3_yd8W4TqG3G9-Z6RnVcZCWx3wbica3Y1sYuIyzgnLxj2Y1lWUeZkVZHG2g/s6000/52117539224_1da41af62c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07sUUiVDasZhu8gjmdLa28zaczh1L0qA4BwQodP5rtHu2OkCRDeHPtVxM7datmxp47uMNhHqjaJIGIg0OMkqrrN3gqXu33AzbM6YiW4IW3YTY3wF6k7n7oPBs0sgBpP-3_yd8W4TqG3G9-Z6RnVcZCWx3wbica3Y1sYuIyzgnLxj2Y1lWUeZkVZHG2g/s320/52117539224_1da41af62c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy has a bonding moment with the wet earth</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After an hour or so of hiking on a trail covered with numerous piles of bear poop, the first raindrops began to fall. We hiked another hour or so before we all began to feel the need to put on raingear. Missy should have put on mud gear too, for she took a spill crossing a creek and suffered an ignominious sit-down upon the wet earth. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqwnRz_gd0Anb0o3VGSxtCQtVD3LqgWL2t6i6ZRqNJvQZUzI3jHj2ju2EDIqMWDFcCK-_l-Mll5-vUrJq0SNus7YNBiI0Pa6LKuKsIk7DU6JNldTvVuLHboeb0OFUnHZumL_myrKQCb4pnp0y109UvCjwyJDhOjMd0JiffX7UrTvBldKZB-53d3ez1w/s6000/52117808930_d16028ef9a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqwnRz_gd0Anb0o3VGSxtCQtVD3LqgWL2t6i6ZRqNJvQZUzI3jHj2ju2EDIqMWDFcCK-_l-Mll5-vUrJq0SNus7YNBiI0Pa6LKuKsIk7DU6JNldTvVuLHboeb0OFUnHZumL_myrKQCb4pnp0y109UvCjwyJDhOjMd0JiffX7UrTvBldKZB-53d3ez1w/s320/52117808930_d16028ef9a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK, it's raingear o'clock</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One highlight of the second day was a side trip to Zane Gray's cabin, a rustic ramshackle cabin in the middle of a grassy meadow where the famed author stayed when he fished the Rogue. Shortly after leaving the cabin and resuming our hike on the Rogue River Trail, we ran into a party of about eight day hikers. It was our friends, the Friends of the Umpqua Hiking Club, day hiking to the cabin and they looked wet. They probably thought we looked wet, too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvz50VC5y2sKONnAny7PQwrt4fXrkezd42jvRqUWUrKcTqohLHk4ITmTo2oggRCLCQIztqRDsOVoedOzArDDnx92r9MTvA7ZLsFJLwnubpjXnlLje2R7ZHmQZ0_LOY7fMkVyAXQCPH26iJKK6NkT4b35qnOnSDUDdLYtVZ6la594BmfR57qQKtoGeofw/s5904/52117263271_d08be48c88_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3936" data-original-width="5904" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvz50VC5y2sKONnAny7PQwrt4fXrkezd42jvRqUWUrKcTqohLHk4ITmTo2oggRCLCQIztqRDsOVoedOzArDDnx92r9MTvA7ZLsFJLwnubpjXnlLje2R7ZHmQZ0_LOY7fMkVyAXQCPH26iJKK6NkT4b35qnOnSDUDdLYtVZ6la594BmfR57qQKtoGeofw/s320/52117263271_d08be48c88_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rain did not dissipate<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>After exchanging pleasantries with our friends, we continued on and at the eleven-mile mark, we arrived at the Rogue River Ranch, now a historical backcountry museum. And that was when the wind started. We were all soaked at this point, having hiked in the rain for the last six hours or so, and that wind had us all shivering in no time flat. Backpacking is so much fun!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjMGU0eRB6qqU1GZsLpp5vvkIf34rmJ782WpuinExh41oj5oX30euovy9YX1ZKV68XAQgO91YgVEoWSWchStUwI4-9lLy3_ncFLi7Bo4Tr9pTPRl57cILjQIxGHrCKjOBQMiLH-l8gGGVb0BUms9UIs-a1tkiQszm7O4_QDijfmQ0cjRanjU-L_lpuA/s5811/52117129217_a62e7ee0e4_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3874" data-original-width="5811" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjMGU0eRB6qqU1GZsLpp5vvkIf34rmJ782WpuinExh41oj5oX30euovy9YX1ZKV68XAQgO91YgVEoWSWchStUwI4-9lLy3_ncFLi7Bo4Tr9pTPRl57cILjQIxGHrCKjOBQMiLH-l8gGGVb0BUms9UIs-a1tkiQszm7O4_QDijfmQ0cjRanjU-L_lpuA/s320/52117129217_a62e7ee0e4_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arrival at Rogue River Ranch</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We went to the ranch and sat on the porch with about a half-dozen other backpackers in a vain attempt to seek shelter from the elements. The caretaker offered the services of his wood stove to dry out clothing and gear but we all politely declined for there's no wood stoves in backpacking. He was a nice guy though, and it was a relief to know hikers in trouble could have a place to go to for help, if needed. At any rate, we camped by the river and all of us were in our tents by three o'clock in the afternoon, listening to the wind and rain raging on the other side of our flimsy tent fabric.</div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><b>Day 3</b></h1><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDt5mAyrDN39EmVGYHjFG1nxhz9Y2GNYuuj6Zf9tF-j4xIS0qqewB7xFuwPZcAHTaAFUyJX1FMOnGi4_X2iMy9hSw9G4DgEMLlezIjwfSV_IEE29lL-CFuGDFePgGGAXjdhmrjUqrjImREhkfHHlMiSkB-XPCGplLtIE16yeEFoR-LuvFtck2bEgdI8w/s8378/52119697738_c68992e53f_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3467" data-original-width="8378" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDt5mAyrDN39EmVGYHjFG1nxhz9Y2GNYuuj6Zf9tF-j4xIS0qqewB7xFuwPZcAHTaAFUyJX1FMOnGi4_X2iMy9hSw9G4DgEMLlezIjwfSV_IEE29lL-CFuGDFePgGGAXjdhmrjUqrjImREhkfHHlMiSkB-XPCGplLtIE16yeEFoR-LuvFtck2bEgdI8w/s320/52119697738_c68992e53f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still not dissipating, Terry</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The ranch caretaker did share with us that the storm would abate this morning, but you'd never know it from the rain that was still vigorously pelting our campsite. Humorously enough, we held a quick meeting to decide that we'd start our hike later in the morning when the weather would break, the humor being that the meeting was held verbally, each one of us participating from inside one's own tent. It was like the backpacking version of a Zoom Meeting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2TVBpjOmdG37slxTW3C7Hyz63ZRH9p0Xnp0Uea8Sv6KZAG21SUohGOG8JA71hhnPj1PDaicAhnlKc5Yhuhk7FmhvC7-oXvKFr_QX5dUfyhIJKFHigcIzrkLlbL7yuWPB7F0gdSjHTWcpFo0ct79qZ8JtppQcE4zLaCkMuBgV8_ZE49b4BOKN6LAfNg/s6000/52119665271_5aa44b3b75_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2TVBpjOmdG37slxTW3C7Hyz63ZRH9p0Xnp0Uea8Sv6KZAG21SUohGOG8JA71hhnPj1PDaicAhnlKc5Yhuhk7FmhvC7-oXvKFr_QX5dUfyhIJKFHigcIzrkLlbL7yuWPB7F0gdSjHTWcpFo0ct79qZ8JtppQcE4zLaCkMuBgV8_ZE49b4BOKN6LAfNg/s320/52119665271_5aa44b3b75_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overjoyed when the sun broke out</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From the ranch, there is a short road walk to the Marial Trailhead and it was somewhere around there that the mid-morning sun came out, warming limbs and souls alike. From Marial, the trail entered an amazing world comprised mostly of black jagged rock at the bottom of the river canyon. Here, the Rogue funnels into narrow Mule Creek Canyon, famed as a formidable challenge for rafters. The precarious trail is etched into a cliff face and you really want to watch your step here, for the drop-off from the trail is sheer. The highlight of this section is Stair Creek, which tumbles into the Rogue in a series of awesome waterfalls. One other highlight was that because of the sun, we removed rain gear, jackets, pant legs, and applied sunscreen to our pale and pallid skins. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlqOj1M2pdwrd60PDkkFwf5HW0tS_pPs3pNKGLM7BJTC-p1KkGUvjK_2cU75mhhW0UPwZ50D-iFAKuSgpeJbXW8iTX65KqyZUxUv6ndE2JchaxytQBoVAD6NKL4_rFzl6Vb8TFnqcrRF20MTzrs_u7ys9F4Yh7xH48un_XOrJiVg7Wc9_0Vd8pRM4xg/s6000/52119682673_15e17dc726_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlqOj1M2pdwrd60PDkkFwf5HW0tS_pPs3pNKGLM7BJTC-p1KkGUvjK_2cU75mhhW0UPwZ50D-iFAKuSgpeJbXW8iTX65KqyZUxUv6ndE2JchaxytQBoVAD6NKL4_rFzl6Vb8TFnqcrRF20MTzrs_u7ys9F4Yh7xH48un_XOrJiVg7Wc9_0Vd8pRM4xg/s320/52119682673_15e17dc726_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Precarious trail etched onto a cliff</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Continuing onward, we passed through the grounds of Paradise Lodge, which was not as backpacker friendly as it had been in years past, although they graciously let us picnic on their deck. From there it was the usual up and down ramble over flowing creeks, through lush forests, and across dry and open cliffs. At the ten mile mark, we set up camp at Tacoma Camp, well populated with rafters camping there.</div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><b>Day 4</b></h1><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZ1F99Wsea4VtYTrlYhsgBO3o-EWhdb2G2JDaYN_ggDCp04DeHeLaa9URHtPrhsawAG9rW1PHbWK8dAIYoSTLeSK24Mk9MocXLY6fn7jVRaDYm8k-VEfEi8JCdhZgJy8pIrl7-OiIQp_mKE0ct_B9iDB4So74u6lhvRsHxqRGjbx3-IlU2TDoB5WD_g/s7799/52120490067_c7ecb4b3a5_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3760" data-original-width="7799" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZ1F99Wsea4VtYTrlYhsgBO3o-EWhdb2G2JDaYN_ggDCp04DeHeLaa9URHtPrhsawAG9rW1PHbWK8dAIYoSTLeSK24Mk9MocXLY6fn7jVRaDYm8k-VEfEi8JCdhZgJy8pIrl7-OiIQp_mKE0ct_B9iDB4So74u6lhvRsHxqRGjbx3-IlU2TDoB5WD_g/s320/52120490067_c7ecb4b3a5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tacoma Rapids as we began the hike out</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Day 4 was getaway day. It also was our shortest day, coming in at a paltry 7.9 miles. Good thing too, because hiking in wet shoes during Day 2's deluge had given me some blisters. Of course, the last and easiest day also had the best weather, something that had also occurred during my two other through-hikes of the Rogue River Trail. It must be a rule.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6o73WDnXgW45nxe2Jfi_fnQkdUIbPDZbaokimvVllZZDwQO4PzbPbnbWweTAD9rot61IklxN0qo4ZRIor8hfz_dlkEctjQKJNIccN_DvT8eQJuSrmMrdr9AgmW8T--UOas_Sgw6Mi-M3ow5lcZmt38-UtpK1KS4uM5nqLA_R8GoD3KTjk2-2e6iifWw/s6000/52121753404_7b473352ee_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6o73WDnXgW45nxe2Jfi_fnQkdUIbPDZbaokimvVllZZDwQO4PzbPbnbWweTAD9rot61IklxN0qo4ZRIor8hfz_dlkEctjQKJNIccN_DvT8eQJuSrmMrdr9AgmW8T--UOas_Sgw6Mi-M3ow5lcZmt38-UtpK1KS4uM5nqLA_R8GoD3KTjk2-2e6iifWw/s320/52121753404_7b473352ee_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaceful Flora Dell Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The main highlight as we left Tacoma Camp was Flora Dell Falls, where Flora Dell Creek tumbles over a cliff to splash into its basin. The weather wasn't particularly warm but the cool spray blowing off the picturesque cascade still felt refreshing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsqR78qe2QDuiPEQfIQP3g2K3GYH4D5huUanwqLcp0e3lBbFFasZT-RJC8YGPwwlw3OGToRvk6C3SCSya-4ev_j7YfdSwpFUtiA1A0L37VvJkRP9vhs-Q3xGa4JGt5ZS8EQezz98l_hAL4xw4kQ8iAueWzRvsPln6cC2m32hxjmmag9nPjaAX_7fLNA/s6000/52122002470_7c00d941be_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsqR78qe2QDuiPEQfIQP3g2K3GYH4D5huUanwqLcp0e3lBbFFasZT-RJC8YGPwwlw3OGToRvk6C3SCSya-4ev_j7YfdSwpFUtiA1A0L37VvJkRP9vhs-Q3xGa4JGt5ZS8EQezz98l_hAL4xw4kQ8iAueWzRvsPln6cC2m32hxjmmag9nPjaAX_7fLNA/s320/52122002470_7c00d941be_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pathway through the woods</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The remainder of the hike crossed several creeks and was mostly wooded. The Rogue had been the official Wild and Scenic Rogue River during our hike but here, the river widened and began flowing a lot more in keeping with its now ponderous bulk. Welcome to the Tame and Civilized Rogue River, boys and girls. We did have two steep uphill sections to hike over though, as the trail had to detour around some private property parcels, much to our annoyance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFElByonTwDii9lXOFVm1eUn_M_MWkXeDpEVRgivAFSFnLsQqYI9HLHqeK9z-jBa9z9fTtoUR1ZHGqXnq7xHTTQvbI2YsgNZSYTVEKWiuilC9gCDo8wiieXfp9CWKkABG5tI9eftEEUirvji2MWCNucw3mtnVS33eY6uDqPioTLUF3NXGGgQnEMTS4Q/s10012/52121992480_90b4faf611_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3528" data-original-width="10012" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFElByonTwDii9lXOFVm1eUn_M_MWkXeDpEVRgivAFSFnLsQqYI9HLHqeK9z-jBa9z9fTtoUR1ZHGqXnq7xHTTQvbI2YsgNZSYTVEKWiuilC9gCDo8wiieXfp9CWKkABG5tI9eftEEUirvji2MWCNucw3mtnVS33eY6uDqPioTLUF3NXGGgQnEMTS4Q/s320/52121992480_90b4faf611_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Advertisement for "Come to Oregon!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The end of the Rogue River Trail was pretty spectacular, though, as it went through a long extended pasture in a valley ringed by forested mountains. As we hiked by, appreciating the postcard view under a blue sky, incurious cows impassively gazed at us. The trailhead put an official end to the Rogue River Trail but we still had a short walk on a roadway to where my car was waiting for us at Foster Bar.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBzHywpMLEyMOdF3o0aBMAukceDFY753jMzWVUqXVLJqP8NvyUJ3mYjyYwKomMgLlNzds1KOnpuMyTeqKSxkBmbjKOBxkSHgBE6Bm3Hp4TzYc1ZJCTmglGft3e9ireO-VZeYzlDb0Jwt00SFR251tJEWjFoOA-L9fdLl93Zftsf1rogQFYHqtQSa-Vw/s6000/52121520593_c1f3bcc5ca_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBzHywpMLEyMOdF3o0aBMAukceDFY753jMzWVUqXVLJqP8NvyUJ3mYjyYwKomMgLlNzds1KOnpuMyTeqKSxkBmbjKOBxkSHgBE6Bm3Hp4TzYc1ZJCTmglGft3e9ireO-VZeYzlDb0Jwt00SFR251tJEWjFoOA-L9fdLl93Zftsf1rogQFYHqtQSa-Vw/s320/52121520593_c1f3bcc5ca_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We did it!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We did it! Even though this was my third go-round with the Rogue River Trail, I still felt a profound sense of accomplishment. No doubt my newbs felt a similar sense of accomplishment, unburdened by the ennui that multiple hikes on the same trail can engender. And as a reward, we stopped in Gold Beach for barbecue sandwiches that were to die for, in our deprived post-hike condition. There are some things about civilization that you just appreciate more after a long backpack trip.<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLlRJuSJwfDTOVS2R9wo5aLHdRr99Mx-wj9AqHhR7IjfINMd7b8pk9gYPbfNgjLrM8a2i8vqH76oZbUZj1WVKwYmQ124alh-yk2bdVBpF9HcranJksaRregXPiuw81xydSW_F3ks0NPp5w1BbmlepudzH3JnlEnbEqorxMI2N4KK0ZZG8l45WLkTiKw/s4277/52122012675_43cd2b6d5c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2851" data-original-width="4277" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLlRJuSJwfDTOVS2R9wo5aLHdRr99Mx-wj9AqHhR7IjfINMd7b8pk9gYPbfNgjLrM8a2i8vqH76oZbUZj1WVKwYmQ124alh-yk2bdVBpF9HcranJksaRregXPiuw81xydSW_F3ks0NPp5w1BbmlepudzH3JnlEnbEqorxMI2N4KK0ZZG8l45WLkTiKw/s320/52122012675_43cd2b6d5c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elegant brodeaia, looking elegant, as always</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzSoGR" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Rogue River National Recreation Trail MC27+8C BLM Rd 34-8-1 Merlin, OR 9753242.6490898 -123.61028342.642777446499657 -123.61886606884765 42.65540215350034 -123.60169993115234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-79196543988725534612022-05-16T08:00:00.510-07:002022-07-07T14:07:55.591-07:00Lost Creek Lake (weekend backpack)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShOzESwErJxpeTUZwSFImQEmoHdGK9b0i9Kt8hPeXRrwhvS5vvls0aRy8NrYP-I_MmMXaL0cv2jhG0e6szYLkPbAW7NwxYhr-l8412oncTU4s3VZfz5CZycAsHFizICo4Lp5v_FErQJUxRqUzko8qmZELH8vsWS-qdyMvj75Seuy1c2OjSjvYfSu27w/s6000/52091700304_d13f207141_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShOzESwErJxpeTUZwSFImQEmoHdGK9b0i9Kt8hPeXRrwhvS5vvls0aRy8NrYP-I_MmMXaL0cv2jhG0e6szYLkPbAW7NwxYhr-l8412oncTU4s3VZfz5CZycAsHFizICo4Lp5v_FErQJUxRqUzko8qmZELH8vsWS-qdyMvj75Seuy1c2OjSjvYfSu27w/s320/52091700304_d13f207141_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">It was just a small sign tacked onto a trailhead kiosk, measuring maybe a foot square but the words on it were sufficient enough to throw my plans for backpacking around Lost Creek Lake into chaos. The stern blue letters on the sign advised the bridge at Blue Grotto was closed to hikers, no reason given other than it was unsafe. Somewhat uncharacteristically, I heeded the terse message and on the fly, rearranged my itinerary.</div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49Nv8YSYxjaxiRZddpxnj8rTt1NDSHYq4_Knf3o53_P0tTNeg9zYuXOnPHaD_HYS1W3IdS9FNiZaBMeuK-ED9lnNPZdcaDiVLjn04yTrWPn5aVoz0eSJimspl59nBT57eKaynApXJPNu3FkEoftuy5q2UIS_4_HZ2uXnPt8liislXuTIMwwUpjciX6w/s6000/52091471768_ff4ca203f2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49Nv8YSYxjaxiRZddpxnj8rTt1NDSHYq4_Knf3o53_P0tTNeg9zYuXOnPHaD_HYS1W3IdS9FNiZaBMeuK-ED9lnNPZdcaDiVLjn04yTrWPn5aVoz0eSJimspl59nBT57eKaynApXJPNu3FkEoftuy5q2UIS_4_HZ2uXnPt8liislXuTIMwwUpjciX6w/s320/52091471768_ff4ca203f2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All life should be walking in a field of daisies</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Spring was in full song at <a href="https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/oregon/lost-creek-lake-shoreline-trail" target="_blank">Lost Creek Lake</a> as I began hiking from the lake's dam, at the time blissfully unaware of any upcoming closures. Everything was green as the trail initially set out across a grassy field of shin-high daisies. I had never been on this part of the lakeside trail and was immediately impressed with the lushness of the vegetation growing alongside the large lake.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiTqCkAxr10VRssSLpwd26Um2dAnq4P8hK2JPHs7y5c6Cr1nLU9bfNK697D15CmeldQUwihg4FvGHDxl05ptPM6pbrkTUs3MHV3PblwFD2y_wvHVALCmSdHc5EtuUyCWXa5HPu5Ff3biDKg79lGRJ-ESgBOvm8w1lqWRsuQP_bvt8_xMXYvjqvEC63w/s5567/52083656997_e25b97f0d1_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3711" data-original-width="5567" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiTqCkAxr10VRssSLpwd26Um2dAnq4P8hK2JPHs7y5c6Cr1nLU9bfNK697D15CmeldQUwihg4FvGHDxl05ptPM6pbrkTUs3MHV3PblwFD2y_wvHVALCmSdHc5EtuUyCWXa5HPu5Ff3biDKg79lGRJ-ESgBOvm8w1lqWRsuQP_bvt8_xMXYvjqvEC63w/s320/52083656997_e25b97f0d1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several million elegant cat's ear flowers</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Life was burgeoning all along the trail but elegant cat's ear was the dominant life form on this two-day hike. Figuratively purring in the sun, the white fuzzy flowers brightened up grassy hillsides and leafy duff alike. My pace was slow as I seemingly took a photo of each and every bloom, for no two ears are ever alike.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJW2kvKTZCO5zDRZ2qOjbo1nZHj2RcA7pc4BVe_SE7ePlEWSdUHB2z9PdSeeFOlLilCdGQWmWeukZTBopMWSw5QLdMYSQ7ui01SX2avKIxfyr80KNfJ0GiNih1TvIUE5AMvhE_RI1jhdTW12vGjYMsmOVxtGQTukgFBHy3iUtOBgMR7lE8mbrCMrOMXg/s6000/52081357817_a38031911d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJW2kvKTZCO5zDRZ2qOjbo1nZHj2RcA7pc4BVe_SE7ePlEWSdUHB2z9PdSeeFOlLilCdGQWmWeukZTBopMWSw5QLdMYSQ7ui01SX2avKIxfyr80KNfJ0GiNih1TvIUE5AMvhE_RI1jhdTW12vGjYMsmOVxtGQTukgFBHy3iUtOBgMR7lE8mbrCMrOMXg/s320/52081357817_a38031911d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green was the color of the day</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There was plenty of shade to be enjoyed on this sunny day, for the lake's shore was heavily wooded with firs and other conifers. A lush understory of ferns and other moisture-loving plants thrived in the shade beneath the trees. Just past Four Corners Camp, a backpackers' camp where there were no corners at all to be seen, much less four of them, the fir forest was then supplanted by oak woodland.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgipUWcbaJIqvg3CpCj8jANDTjYfDG9iacpdRBqIrn1gtVhyEiEskqs1aH_bGe5zKoaJd6NBsqHz9yp8MCWnHQmpfEYMkRuGlsroWxPuYVog0Kz2Wwxd8XjpsiyxbWwgreZb_lk_j93WV-DeYeXmTR8DIcq01IPnqkkcQX9CttVnGl3LqP0Oe8dTi0yg/s7601/52081352612_aac286ee42_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3827" data-original-width="7601" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgipUWcbaJIqvg3CpCj8jANDTjYfDG9iacpdRBqIrn1gtVhyEiEskqs1aH_bGe5zKoaJd6NBsqHz9yp8MCWnHQmpfEYMkRuGlsroWxPuYVog0Kz2Wwxd8XjpsiyxbWwgreZb_lk_j93WV-DeYeXmTR8DIcq01IPnqkkcQX9CttVnGl3LqP0Oe8dTi0yg/s320/52081352612_aac286ee42_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So nice to see Lost Creek Lake full of water</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Periodically, the trail would leave the oak woods and traverse across open semi-arid patches of manzanita and dry grass, the lack of trees allowing hikers to spend some quality time with Lost Creek Lake. The lake was ringed by forested hills and mountains with distinctive Flounce Rock being the nearest and most prominent. The lake's water level had been low the last several years, thanks to an extended drought, so it was nice to see it full of water after this wet winter.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtSiAnebZUGp7VOY8ga6bpiRxkhOD6l7zZZsMQpEC4MTn12fCt24FU4ykCb1h7w2r2gNrBzXltx73ekKwR9q-wZ5DYCTqWQg0lO54Uje4XNJzUqbSAbahl3gGxAJ6R9fw9VTfg0sK6ZqNsWUMLJYjJiBwmZ3U083BTiIuxzZfT8kfqxrxJXExHAICaw/s6000/52082612899_9ff9112e8a_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtSiAnebZUGp7VOY8ga6bpiRxkhOD6l7zZZsMQpEC4MTn12fCt24FU4ykCb1h7w2r2gNrBzXltx73ekKwR9q-wZ5DYCTqWQg0lO54Uje4XNJzUqbSAbahl3gGxAJ6R9fw9VTfg0sK6ZqNsWUMLJYjJiBwmZ3U083BTiIuxzZfT8kfqxrxJXExHAICaw/s320/52082612899_9ff9112e8a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The relatively narrow Lost Creek arm</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Lost Creek Lake from overhead, would resemble a pollywog were it not for the Lost Creek arm of the lake. Thanks to the aforementioned arm, the lake looks like a pollywog with a giant dorsal fin holding a flashlight. Actually it really resembles nothing more than an amorphous blob but my imagination feels the need to come up with some kind of simile. At any rate, the trail went up and around the arm which eventually felt more like narrow fjord than significant-sized lake. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtY2GOQ27tbvZIv1Y3vAnr12XshDwQPnMOj_RqlPA1ZggSIuQspbX-I76Yjl-bSls6oyVZYsN4gIjeenaT0WQ7EKOAm0vmPPbPZsHHa3zSt1qv8W8r6Q4ux0rsCsZlSBWhvoL8cP6l_68EL_VgfEsUdAvTZHcisMb19p9T2rZE4GruA3o0cwZ1wkTLfg/s6000/52084711781_884219fe9f_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtY2GOQ27tbvZIv1Y3vAnr12XshDwQPnMOj_RqlPA1ZggSIuQspbX-I76Yjl-bSls6oyVZYsN4gIjeenaT0WQ7EKOAm0vmPPbPZsHHa3zSt1qv8W8r6Q4ux0rsCsZlSBWhvoL8cP6l_68EL_VgfEsUdAvTZHcisMb19p9T2rZE4GruA3o0cwZ1wkTLfg/s320/52084711781_884219fe9f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, this screwed up my plans</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There's a trailhead located where the route crosses burbling Lost Creek, and that was where the sign filled me up with consternation. What to do? I was about four miles into the hike and Blue Grotto was probably another four miles ahead. I dithered as I hiked some more and at roughly the six mile mark, I decided to stop and camp, if only because the trail passed through a series of amazingly beautiful meadows atop cliffs with spectacular overlooks of the lake. If I wasn't going to circumnavigate the lake, then these bucolic pastures were certainly an appealing place to spend the night at.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLDpPLV2g6XZa6s3fBuhUaY6-q5IEpeCN4fjGasZ2S0W1Y6bNS74ISLBPsUFYMdOR4_BrkJjcm9ZMLTYECUgG-pjzBWgc926LFKRzqPytGfi0rYXaVtqOf5S3jto6HSquap3YR3Oa3jYPhhcVa_uyZ-r1UC9RTScu5-dJkwPeOhIpPj7zxyBi7PrO3w/s6000/52085847052_6a2591cf24_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLDpPLV2g6XZa6s3fBuhUaY6-q5IEpeCN4fjGasZ2S0W1Y6bNS74ISLBPsUFYMdOR4_BrkJjcm9ZMLTYECUgG-pjzBWgc926LFKRzqPytGfi0rYXaVtqOf5S3jto6HSquap3YR3Oa3jYPhhcVa_uyZ-r1UC9RTScu5-dJkwPeOhIpPj7zxyBi7PrO3w/s320/52085847052_6a2591cf24_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My home away from home</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After pitching my tent in the middle of an idyllic copse of oak trees, I then stealth-cooked dinner. Stealth cooking is that technique where you cook and eat dinner on the trail and then hike another hour or so before setting up camp. This is done so as to prevent bears from getting too interested in your campsite, lured in by enticing food aromas. Bear scat had been spotted on the trail, so I hiked ahead to a scenic overlook and cooked and ate on a convenient bench while enjoying the late afternoon scenery. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-ldhOZWT-fPeLlp-49VV68kX2WZCC_ChyTGAKn8v7ofJX-dmDFe7kurQDx2jN6Z_o7u2DVWA_reE26S9Eq8IkFMzS7dkvpRWIl7cT_qT9qc7Dz8sWYXlS-bAh5Ur04vbf6qUn9LODnnEB6g3-laWdUAWb95Fhjrf2r1AcCVFrLHabdAgItC62X_sqQ/s6000/52085848902_e3776271f1_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-ldhOZWT-fPeLlp-49VV68kX2WZCC_ChyTGAKn8v7ofJX-dmDFe7kurQDx2jN6Z_o7u2DVWA_reE26S9Eq8IkFMzS7dkvpRWIl7cT_qT9qc7Dz8sWYXlS-bAh5Ur04vbf6qUn9LODnnEB6g3-laWdUAWb95Fhjrf2r1AcCVFrLHabdAgItC62X_sqQ/s320/52085848902_e3776271f1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An up-close look at German knotweed</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After dinner, I slapped a macro lens on my camera and began crawling through my meadow home, photographing all things small and smaller. It's amazing the things you can find at the other end of a macro lens and I noted a tiny plant with prickly green leaves that when magnified, were actually miniscule green flowers. Hello, German knotweed, I believe we haven't ever met before, pleased to make your acquaintance! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiBB4pin4F67FgwHmhPlJsd3iIhEAs77_1iNC5DEnuFV7-PNYO_O7gs02nhLs66pDh7TFMFYkl952saAajsKndintpvZ0FETYovzg96iSwvr-mUocawnxfJGOP_4N1EHBKLo4VWxUrqqVB8TQnWBm63cW4tMRc7T7NsEct9_slVdhVo0UaotX23LHOQ/s6000/52089226044_5cc680238e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiBB4pin4F67FgwHmhPlJsd3iIhEAs77_1iNC5DEnuFV7-PNYO_O7gs02nhLs66pDh7TFMFYkl952saAajsKndintpvZ0FETYovzg96iSwvr-mUocawnxfJGOP_4N1EHBKLo4VWxUrqqVB8TQnWBm63cW4tMRc7T7NsEct9_slVdhVo0UaotX23LHOQ/s320/52089226044_5cc680238e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got an early start on the hike out</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a breezy night spent listening to the pleasant soughing of windblown oak branches, I bid the German knotweed "auf Wiedersehen", struck camp, and hit the trail somewhere around eight o'clock in the morning. Doing anything by eight o'clock is a rarity in my retirement years but I was glad I did, for the temperature was cool and the morning light slanting through the woods was most enjoyable. Although, it did feel strange to finish hiking before eleven o'clock in the morning.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigeP66-NHQEFDqHabMbTiRJAJXHveTASzH2yIX7caTtC60Jz4bRfoBwp0gNb66lPIqgqvDisoFUEE379x6vhYi-CsrmZxV3G8YTDqMyawXOW5AjReznkdXAWDr3ICdFlleBWCbbW37V254TFpkTTUBFMhKMqJBZ6r3iVCaVoc1fu8LVRRv-RiQ0PFSw/s5682/52089000028_85b27f2af2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3788" data-original-width="5682" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigeP66-NHQEFDqHabMbTiRJAJXHveTASzH2yIX7caTtC60Jz4bRfoBwp0gNb66lPIqgqvDisoFUEE379x6vhYi-CsrmZxV3G8YTDqMyawXOW5AjReznkdXAWDr3ICdFlleBWCbbW37V254TFpkTTUBFMhKMqJBZ6r3iVCaVoc1fu8LVRRv-RiQ0PFSw/s320/52089000028_85b27f2af2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tall silvercrown was a common sight</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Upon my return to home and computer, I researched the question as to whether the closure at Blue Grotto was still in effect. I had my doubts because in all honesty, the sign did look a little weatherworn, like it had been there for quite some time. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any info so I'll just have to hike at the other end and find out, or take my chances on another circumnavigation attempt. Nonetheless, I really did enjoy my meadow camp and outing so I'm not too upset at not being able to do the full hike around the lake, it was all good.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiSQT5a6DslLWCHQiUAkuuwV8FD1OOqSKVzG7Dh0Q9Mj-kWvaaaWNt24mZR5dhn_leWUkt497yNy5jJNKD6x4mMiiQ1KTQK3aX47K1aA2-jgkOH6xKoGumMa1niDtGmM01vG9rZDvLm22UQXU1dH9xWT3Qo_nVzAX6_ENYTO-3uRFWG4ea9peVSji01Q/s6000/52089204694_49a6da7c37_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiSQT5a6DslLWCHQiUAkuuwV8FD1OOqSKVzG7Dh0Q9Mj-kWvaaaWNt24mZR5dhn_leWUkt497yNy5jJNKD6x4mMiiQ1KTQK3aX47K1aA2-jgkOH6xKoGumMa1niDtGmM01vG9rZDvLm22UQXU1dH9xWT3Qo_nVzAX6_ENYTO-3uRFWG4ea9peVSji01Q/s320/52089204694_49a6da7c37_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lake patrolled by guard geese</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzQvBW" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album.</a><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/5012996236?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-06-04T00:19:00+00:00" width="100%"></iframe></div><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/5012996236" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0River's Edge Park Pavillion 129-147 Cole M Rivers Dr Trail, OR 9754142.6793101 -122.687577942.672999535180395 -122.69616096884765 42.685620664819609 -122.67899483115234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-59097582140446830812022-05-14T08:00:00.564-07:002022-07-07T23:27:17.996-07:00North Bank Habitat (Best Hike Ever!)<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBKTL8eCQgPT_087fF615YiJH795h3lwVKiElagwIQc8nlK5A9AH9ca_qeKVOFaWwittKvSMvNIPgcsGH1b9Uer5ujjpdNfwThqAK_6KjXeu1YHii_p_fOfpjp2Hw3mIfRreAiqEPbShJPkwFTSuVSYTAkSIhMO0DqQ2aKoYxzp3vu6XePfJ6HWrs4w/s6000/52076269179_7d3d81d88c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBKTL8eCQgPT_087fF615YiJH795h3lwVKiElagwIQc8nlK5A9AH9ca_qeKVOFaWwittKvSMvNIPgcsGH1b9Uer5ujjpdNfwThqAK_6KjXeu1YHii_p_fOfpjp2Hw3mIfRreAiqEPbShJPkwFTSuVSYTAkSIhMO0DqQ2aKoYxzp3vu6XePfJ6HWrs4w/s320/52076269179_7d3d81d88c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>In what was definitely not truth in advertising, this hike was dubbed the Best Hike Ever. Back on New Year's Day, Brad, <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">our hike leader</a>, had led a North Bank hike that will forever live in club lore as The Worst Hike Ever because of formidably steep trails. Flash forward a few more months to the present and now we were going to do the same route, but this time in reverse, exchanging the incredibly steep Powerline Road for the incredibly steep East Boundary Road. Because this hike was the opposite of the Worst Hike Ever, it acquired the rather Orwellian title of <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/north-bank-habitat-may-14-2022/" target="_blank">Best Hike Ever</a>.<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYtUKgdF8NRZYfkCbZKrnvmVPaM8Y-KRsYxB0S8-tZQ4pLp_ZE89E8reIIO52k-JAXyWUYTm-3oEPRSqANywjTJA9KjRwf_GBjTm3YuUjfBDCpjRA5k_n0BbqQY2isO0tprz9rGJ9sizpWgb-p9VLmw-jGogCV4Ld84G0t1_84ufRgs-svsS9ZRFHXw/s6000/52076053988_8a1ccd42bd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYtUKgdF8NRZYfkCbZKrnvmVPaM8Y-KRsYxB0S8-tZQ4pLp_ZE89E8reIIO52k-JAXyWUYTm-3oEPRSqANywjTJA9KjRwf_GBjTm3YuUjfBDCpjRA5k_n0BbqQY2isO0tprz9rGJ9sizpWgb-p9VLmw-jGogCV4Ld84G0t1_84ufRgs-svsS9ZRFHXw/s320/52076053988_8a1ccd42bd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rheo commences the Best Hike Ever</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="text-align: left;"><br />The hike began with an easy amble down the <a href="https://www.blm.gov/or/districts/roseburg/north_bank.php" target="_blank">Habitat's entrance road</a> and we gaily skipped along, a song in our hearts, if not on our lips. We made a left turn onto the trail and all happy songs immediately died in mid-trill, supplanted instead by a chorus of horrified shrieks sounding like so many Aztec death whistles. In front of us, looming like a grassy Great Wall of China (but way taller) was the East Boundary Road, seemingly rising straight up to Mars or beyond. Yikes, legs quivered and ached before we even began the dismal trudgery of hiking The Best Freaking Hike Never.</span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX6jlbyWPXrmy-qm0HS1s8GOujbsWc8HBJyli-6yBdlWybxaVGUbevKfGVYz-_XLTdbi3dFnrjvW8eaWkPPovgYnmbGrLOTk0MxaKMRibixbf3TDBzwZOctpWaz1twBi1JPOSWqFdYp5DWkoaJWiB6x6IfJXG-ZogGb2zYsnzcmzdOPFbq3DY7rVWKHQ/s6000/52075001937_701dceff46_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX6jlbyWPXrmy-qm0HS1s8GOujbsWc8HBJyli-6yBdlWybxaVGUbevKfGVYz-_XLTdbi3dFnrjvW8eaWkPPovgYnmbGrLOTk0MxaKMRibixbf3TDBzwZOctpWaz1twBi1JPOSWqFdYp5DWkoaJWiB6x6IfJXG-ZogGb2zYsnzcmzdOPFbq3DY7rVWKHQ/s320/52075001937_701dceff46_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo of the trail, taken while I was not resting</td></tr></tbody></table><br />About halfway up the first major slog, I think my calves began to cramp up, followed in short order by hamstring pulls, respiratory distress, hives, and maybe dilated pupils. Whew, this was hard work and I did lots of photography because I was NOT resting, no matter how much it may have looked like I might have been. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPn5ou2f7R3oCs8l0ZLDBMPaQSglmYZnqQOuUz6r7MRNnjJ8OK4T7c6wRGat35KOzoAH2s8-l3NaiUkRqp_O1D9XRsTiYomZA7G730FzrzAoYWDNjz0yuyJD_eYLSEDTOSGQ_UxxdxweU6olAuX-KuTYslmPVvbZQtIQbdYP_9kFjFm3EHysmUkjstA/s6000/52074994507_07be984041_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPn5ou2f7R3oCs8l0ZLDBMPaQSglmYZnqQOuUz6r7MRNnjJ8OK4T7c6wRGat35KOzoAH2s8-l3NaiUkRqp_O1D9XRsTiYomZA7G730FzrzAoYWDNjz0yuyJD_eYLSEDTOSGQ_UxxdxweU6olAuX-KuTYslmPVvbZQtIQbdYP_9kFjFm3EHysmUkjstA/s320/52074994507_07be984041_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Douglas' iris decorated the grassy slopes</td></tr></tbody></table><br />But if you are going to flame out on your Last Hike Ever, you might as well do it where it's scenic and this North Bank Medieval Torture Chamber Trail fit the bill. Spring was in full song and the vertical walls (oops, I meant to say "rolling hills") were covered with lush green grass. And if I were tempted to plop down on the ground in total exhaustion, the colorful red and oily leaves of the ever-present poison oak were more than adequate deterrent, the fear of itchy rash being sufficient motivation to remain upright, if not necessarily to keep walking. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoo5lG21fy_szIPkFBWesmtKIuSpBuKSFYm9svJ1cBz-GztF9uft3gYXMFZ3QWt2VBbmAFW4gOpmLNxZR7BbyviKYUah4flKFPOkfNADv_Ov8vyMU8jp47VOsL267pxMGkYajR1VUkbQvzAzm7eIrKF_8Ox1kHtNPqzqwCa7AjXZK2WwUpTN4sqj20w/s6000/52076044573_de6183df61_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoo5lG21fy_szIPkFBWesmtKIuSpBuKSFYm9svJ1cBz-GztF9uft3gYXMFZ3QWt2VBbmAFW4gOpmLNxZR7BbyviKYUah4flKFPOkfNADv_Ov8vyMU8jp47VOsL267pxMGkYajR1VUkbQvzAzm7eIrKF_8Ox1kHtNPqzqwCa7AjXZK2WwUpTN4sqj20w/s320/52076044573_de6183df61_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a changing forget-me-not looks like</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The wildflowers were putting on a show, best admired when bent over with hands on knees, lungs heaving mightily. Fiddleneck, wild iris, and Indian pink were all abloom, just to name several species from a cast of thousands. During one of my photo-ops while NOT resting, I spotted an odd little flower resembling a fiddleneck that sported flowers ranging from blue to yellow to white, all on the same flower head. It was a changing forget-me-not (Myosotis discolor), whose flowers start out blue but like my hair, turn white with age. I'd never seen this wildflower before, so that was kind of cool. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fQ7d5iNPJq_o37lClMDlanmpGA3AtfWyuBHpMW-QWCPWzJq5QVDClYa-ZjwgMlift6m51UB5ygcT3hMN6gSr6rxpZkeAIqki4YpZo9F1LuzYjjOzfXU1-ThZ2PKizsFqTsNS-OFT23f35Eus-ud9MfhmCb-iqeTVGJmQIGqKLIKT0pGTPz51hwvzfw/s6000/52076048096_b1c3b44036_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fQ7d5iNPJq_o37lClMDlanmpGA3AtfWyuBHpMW-QWCPWzJq5QVDClYa-ZjwgMlift6m51UB5ygcT3hMN6gSr6rxpZkeAIqki4YpZo9F1LuzYjjOzfXU1-ThZ2PKizsFqTsNS-OFT23f35Eus-ud9MfhmCb-iqeTVGJmQIGqKLIKT0pGTPz51hwvzfw/s320/52076048096_b1c3b44036_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vista to a neighboring ridge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we slogged on ever upward, crying for our Mamas all the while, the views began to entertain, expanding in direct proportion to the hard-won elevation we were gaining. Directly below the East Boundary Ridge, lay a quilted picnic blanket of farmlands extending all the way to the small town of Glide. Nearby and in the Habitat, were the wooded crest and grassy mounds of Middle Ridge, and we could peer directly down into the valley of Blacktail Basin, whose trail was a much easier route up to North Boundary Ridge than our current route, Brad.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqI3ngPFcc5tE4v3oo5LUOlMYo4yMBr64hrnejtDTLjQ7e3qbKSISlxKJKbJwriHPrpJ0spnlRBYcaN2oLjDbZa-836hOHYSQZoxJLYo26oD1VfrhuHTlY0OI4oiwcNkewH24JcguXP6Zp_qjiKkcyUnKFISWD3l6LqGQWUrZoU9wcmlEeNcknO94ekA/s6000/52074992207_f903b667e1_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqI3ngPFcc5tE4v3oo5LUOlMYo4yMBr64hrnejtDTLjQ7e3qbKSISlxKJKbJwriHPrpJ0spnlRBYcaN2oLjDbZa-836hOHYSQZoxJLYo26oD1VfrhuHTlY0OI4oiwcNkewH24JcguXP6Zp_qjiKkcyUnKFISWD3l6LqGQWUrZoU9wcmlEeNcknO94ekA/s320/52074992207_f903b667e1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay, the grade is merely uphill!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At about a mile and a half of hiking up a wall with a trail on it, the grade eased and the path morphed into what charitably could be called a "merely uphill" route. The dirt road undulated up and down a series of high points on the ridge and we all rejoiced at the newfound normalcy of the grade.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvW6zCYb6azPifFg3_BRdmtlVlNHRz5iuPbP_O6uCvruXw1MQzkZYVYPji2gfEFKPnPDap5N_-fx11CgAcv7y8SPCcTgkVYqnFLxrIGFNjDZx5bXgh-IiTm_d10AAZGZlX6f6K5zmshPEMy-IehVOX1uOtF1CJf0_kkxwlFKmzJcPEQQluXkhxVuQrYA/s5916/52076514080_4eda895963_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3944" data-original-width="5916" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvW6zCYb6azPifFg3_BRdmtlVlNHRz5iuPbP_O6uCvruXw1MQzkZYVYPji2gfEFKPnPDap5N_-fx11CgAcv7y8SPCcTgkVYqnFLxrIGFNjDZx5bXgh-IiTm_d10AAZGZlX6f6K5zmshPEMy-IehVOX1uOtF1CJf0_kkxwlFKmzJcPEQQluXkhxVuQrYA/s320/52076514080_4eda895963_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortunately, it never rained on us, despite the threat</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At about the four-mile mark, the trail attained North Boundary Ridge which also served up its own daunting up-and-down route on its grassy crest. But if you hiked up the East Boundary Ridge Road to get there, well then it almost seemed like you were hiking downhill as the grade was nowhere near as demanding. On top of North Boundary Ridge, we availed ourselves the opportunity to snack, rest, regroup, and curse all things Brad.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfBwaXJ3yK_sF_grRgujuqDC4-IoEZVSJ_NsxSAO01iBGqzOBtGOMLV-t66duUf-swgrlSI-SaX7GdmQcEzbm_qJq5k1eJRocHRFTPN0OX-hI7bLvNsVoJdNktDkgvNaTWcXTOTOfizyiEInbV_KBpBWUYQqf4f9oQGpMeQQSx6j5Z_V6HC6q5e3HlQ/s6000/52076510875_0aed8903e2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfBwaXJ3yK_sF_grRgujuqDC4-IoEZVSJ_NsxSAO01iBGqzOBtGOMLV-t66duUf-swgrlSI-SaX7GdmQcEzbm_qJq5k1eJRocHRFTPN0OX-hI7bLvNsVoJdNktDkgvNaTWcXTOTOfizyiEInbV_KBpBWUYQqf4f9oQGpMeQQSx6j5Z_V6HC6q5e3HlQ/s320/52076510875_0aed8903e2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just when you didn't think the<br />hike could get any "better"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />On the New Year's Day Worst Hike Ever venture, our foe back then had been Powerline Road. However, we'd be hiking down Powerline today and Brad assured us it was all downhill. I reminded him that no, there actually was a pretty good uphill pull to perform before we could say it was all downhill. At least there was no snow this time, although there was mud, wildflowers, and views as we descended. Some of us lay in the mud in protest when we gave up on the aforementioned steep climb on Powerline Road.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovvd6iyTPtiyylCHvDUozL2yT2TaAC2GCCW6XfmYKhUtDBdJ175PXXLzpKRMo0maa4H-wfJjVgkjaF1x9uj90ITh7ZRPo2KMg1vqLgEgKX6a1VO_ZMuU1XBqHMCLnQUVdpiXGfRv4Ia2NypP32G5vVsbyCc_t172ysnd_g86usZqXr5FJplnshSP5Xg/s6000/52078153110_7b05dcd24b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovvd6iyTPtiyylCHvDUozL2yT2TaAC2GCCW6XfmYKhUtDBdJ175PXXLzpKRMo0maa4H-wfJjVgkjaF1x9uj90ITh7ZRPo2KMg1vqLgEgKX6a1VO_ZMuU1XBqHMCLnQUVdpiXGfRv4Ia2NypP32G5vVsbyCc_t172ysnd_g86usZqXr5FJplnshSP5Xg/s320/52078153110_7b05dcd24b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pastoral scene on the steep<br />descent down Powerline Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a leg-braking, knee-taxing, soul-sucking descent down lush grassy slopes, we plopped down in exhaustion at the pavilion area, some of us face first. Brad served us lunch and snacks, if only to prevent us from kicking him in the rear for coming up with this hike. My own opinion is that he should have doled out ibuprofen instead of food to stay in our good graces.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjUQfXr5zcfFKwoBOtCz5nVrESeJah90goETGIGzAI-AxC6cPEhu0soiEQlZ471eYxgYnwupnY5kzcyd3szhETMzeID2glvIn7WJlqL8I-1ixwm6by-FZtddsQxcErROrPXDgfvYaL_kN2KoZO-t-SV5DIM__1763BzxjPmVz3M8M3bfKfM-FOFDzj7A/s6000/52076039058_a061aa86dc_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjUQfXr5zcfFKwoBOtCz5nVrESeJah90goETGIGzAI-AxC6cPEhu0soiEQlZ471eYxgYnwupnY5kzcyd3szhETMzeID2glvIn7WJlqL8I-1ixwm6by-FZtddsQxcErROrPXDgfvYaL_kN2KoZO-t-SV5DIM__1763BzxjPmVz3M8M3bfKfM-FOFDzj7A/s320/52076039058_a061aa86dc_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's a North Bank hike without poison oak?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzQ4Cu" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album.</a><p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/4998909982?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-05-15T00:11:06+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/4998909982" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0North Bank Habitat Management Area, 6062-6098 N Bank Rd, Roseburg, OR 97470, USA43.3163997 -123.200108715.006165863821153 -158.3563587 71.626633536178844 -88.0438587tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-3818972617824130182022-04-30T08:00:00.605-07:002022-07-07T23:52:12.658-07:00Kentucky Falls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezWglrXPux9oJmbZvqPUrJ45OpxRWKkNrKo5Abr39S8QSVTAFjJBcPnBm-gA0O4l33Pr7Ct5Rs5DkToVdydmuKMUPgNljkS9CS4mtMrMJ9WkN1wqz71Kyt4vlHPCzNVFi1OcEpn0ch83airtfsMwsNB_hGKzwkbmmi-QOQltYA71xNsbuxIEfgRTCfg/s6000/52041836387_5954ec9379_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezWglrXPux9oJmbZvqPUrJ45OpxRWKkNrKo5Abr39S8QSVTAFjJBcPnBm-gA0O4l33Pr7Ct5Rs5DkToVdydmuKMUPgNljkS9CS4mtMrMJ9WkN1wqz71Kyt4vlHPCzNVFi1OcEpn0ch83airtfsMwsNB_hGKzwkbmmi-QOQltYA71xNsbuxIEfgRTCfg/s320/52041836387_5954ec9379_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">They say what goes down must go up and vise versa. I'm not sure who "they" are or why we put so much stock in what they say but I bet they haven't ever hiked with the <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Umpqua</a> to Kentucky Falls, because we've always happily hiked eight downhill miles to the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/siuslaw/recarea/?recid=42461#:~:text=This%20trail%20takes%20you%20on,the%20North%20Fork%20Smith%20River." target="_blank">North Fork Smith River Trail</a> terminus. Unfortunately though, the bottom half of that route currently lies under a bunch of trees knocked down by a severe storm, so on this day, we'd be hiking down to Kentucky Falls and right back up again, I guess "they" might have really known what they were talking about...this time.</div><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidftyCG3_U8C5YH893RGwLqSn62xIPCL0mQYrQlqI5CMvV75slaHdjWt5v4J8LNMikXuyNM6dVUbPcadnTCOfbqvXRMOoacqPMjP3axB0WGVgJ3KOdp8rg8917aWxfISJ4lVkI97bEM7VkHaIsEFdlCs1ASjAM0yrloTd0N3RLPp26tQ5jtkNM4vfPUA/s6000/52043134844_502ecfdc3c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidftyCG3_U8C5YH893RGwLqSn62xIPCL0mQYrQlqI5CMvV75slaHdjWt5v4J8LNMikXuyNM6dVUbPcadnTCOfbqvXRMOoacqPMjP3axB0WGVgJ3KOdp8rg8917aWxfISJ4lVkI97bEM7VkHaIsEFdlCs1ASjAM0yrloTd0N3RLPp26tQ5jtkNM4vfPUA/s320/52043134844_502ecfdc3c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random snippet of a saturated forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">At least it was raining when we started walking. You'd think we were hiking in Oregon or something. It never really rained hard during our visit to Kentucky Creek but hours of hiking in a continual downpour soon rendered us as sodden and soaked as the forest we were hiking though. Puddles lay on the trail and encroaching ferns were only too happy to transfer water from frond to clothing. Suffice to say, our raingear was put to the test today. </div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAJsbxgLnzwuJh3WQ3xkEvJbpkciA4ivAMz__0U1gm7DyYhtkno3XZLcV22SUjTlCwq3hP8rKZga9CCHy0vUFmfwXwWIDC3ZvrSZNL5cFue7qHB_5pljXxsPha9JkX1ATC5kc4Ht3E80mqXGv06G3gNg6bbRHEFnX_kg2ijBM2BVMUbzaW5kzcm-odQ/s6000/52045275206_9013ccc871_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAJsbxgLnzwuJh3WQ3xkEvJbpkciA4ivAMz__0U1gm7DyYhtkno3XZLcV22SUjTlCwq3hP8rKZga9CCHy0vUFmfwXwWIDC3ZvrSZNL5cFue7qHB_5pljXxsPha9JkX1ATC5kc4Ht3E80mqXGv06G3gNg6bbRHEFnX_kg2ijBM2BVMUbzaW5kzcm-odQ/s320/52045275206_9013ccc871_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A veritable carpet of false lily-of-the-valley</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The noisy rat-a-tat-tat on hat brims from the steady rainfall would be a constant throughout the hike. However, no complaining allowed because rain makes the forest green and we do enjoy hiking below tall trees with a healthy understory of ferns, salal, and other assorted vegetation growing underneath. Moss claimed all that did not move and cliffs, boulders, and fallen trees alike were covered by a soft mossy blanket. Green was the watchword here as we hiked in a verdant forest beneath a brooding sky.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6JVqQJYwCUwPtdb5FDKeqdp-8873G6SbocUyhfNc9C4BLR50CwyIkHu_8XONT6Krvd_Ykr6eG9H2dYGIEuH0H_Shprp6ixeKTmM2Plq287vabq1W0q0MjSezkb884SL34j9SR5vmxx4Mq63RfK-g2Lr1pkrir4PZBeB1SxpfaBu-vh7rSzbyNFPckUg/s6000/52042871396_920fb2ff01_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6JVqQJYwCUwPtdb5FDKeqdp-8873G6SbocUyhfNc9C4BLR50CwyIkHu_8XONT6Krvd_Ykr6eG9H2dYGIEuH0H_Shprp6ixeKTmM2Plq287vabq1W0q0MjSezkb884SL34j9SR5vmxx4Mq63RfK-g2Lr1pkrir4PZBeB1SxpfaBu-vh7rSzbyNFPckUg/s320/52042871396_920fb2ff01_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kentucky Creek was always heard and/or seen</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once raindrops roll off trees, branches, leaves, and hikers, they eventually find their way into Kentucky Creek. Rain makes creeks flow and a very wet spring had Kentucky Creek coursing along in rather vigorous fashion. The stream tumbled through its creek bed of mossy rocks, the whitewater seemingly luminous amongst the dark trees under the dark clouds on a dark day. Several small unnamed waterfalls dropped over several equally unnamed ledges in what was a prelude to the <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/siuslaw/recreation/recarea/?recid=42455" target="_blank">Kentucky Falls</a> main event.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7MUbsd8gtNlHO0XW0QWc5eb8gM5fxZwXJHsYRdAY8Xb3RuaDwHJdaEIaTlvhMCntYfqM9NL60uVMATnekRST6E6DbBHklaRwGlCECQv4wlF7iOGTGvCE9-P3-073vQhiGh9defj1XZzxM7la1_6eSzeZu_2SVqwG1ISYTtuYERtDS1fTas0BoBOzIw/s5300/52045793895_85c16e9680_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3533" data-original-width="5300" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN7MUbsd8gtNlHO0XW0QWc5eb8gM5fxZwXJHsYRdAY8Xb3RuaDwHJdaEIaTlvhMCntYfqM9NL60uVMATnekRST6E6DbBHklaRwGlCECQv4wlF7iOGTGvCE9-P3-073vQhiGh9defj1XZzxM7la1_6eSzeZu_2SVqwG1ISYTtuYERtDS1fTas0BoBOzIw/s320/52045793895_85c16e9680_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Translucence in a trillium flower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Rain renders trilliums soggy, too. Like some people, trillium flowers tend to show their age by changing color from pale white to dark maroon as they get older. The current rainstorm pelted tired pink trillium flowers with an incessant deluge and the semi-transparent petals became quite saturated with water, folding over on themselves like wet crepe paper lying in a spilled drink on the dance floor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulUDzDQ13RZqGZIVj_I8R3s5V9DRj5fej05QKC_HrSj2iFy5GuTaoyVrlvJPE_sbK7_LZ5VCSMekY1yhqFpFPOx4ka1b2sNW5VFwfOHgXWAc49Uk6UX4Dk5RYwJxF0KEqNGv1wYd3kQh_2FVK7NJBfajfbTAJDVio-nfactYHsjWYgepoDJT1poFOTA/s6000/52045528544_bcb6bf2349_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulUDzDQ13RZqGZIVj_I8R3s5V9DRj5fej05QKC_HrSj2iFy5GuTaoyVrlvJPE_sbK7_LZ5VCSMekY1yhqFpFPOx4ka1b2sNW5VFwfOHgXWAc49Uk6UX4Dk5RYwJxF0KEqNGv1wYd3kQh_2FVK7NJBfajfbTAJDVio-nfactYHsjWYgepoDJT1poFOTA/s320/52045528544_bcb6bf2349_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite fungus-bearing footbridge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />About halfway down to the upper falls, the trail crossed Kentucky Creek on a rustic footbridge that seemed to be more moss than wood. On the bridge, bird's nest fungus grew in prolific bunches on the rails and posts of the span. Normally, I find this particular fungus on the ground and am always grateful to see them flourishing on this bridge, for I don't have to lie down on the ground like normal to get a photograph, especially on a wet day when the ground is muddy,</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8IC6fJnhF19OmCtEpqpk7JjN5uaX-Pdpq3GvT_zRGz6ScW0FB2R5Kb2Q054M3b2WolH4k1ihX-XyrWYNuyFjmR0al7Q6kTol3zUEWacvOueN-TsykDZSwy5eThcgP5IMMua-pUBNELyMFO04PYg8buoBMX5pE8ek_XV7MVkjzF78omLToxsFXbcwVJg/s5568/52042925743_eea64fccf0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3712" data-original-width="5568" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8IC6fJnhF19OmCtEpqpk7JjN5uaX-Pdpq3GvT_zRGz6ScW0FB2R5Kb2Q054M3b2WolH4k1ihX-XyrWYNuyFjmR0al7Q6kTol3zUEWacvOueN-TsykDZSwy5eThcgP5IMMua-pUBNELyMFO04PYg8buoBMX5pE8ek_XV7MVkjzF78omLToxsFXbcwVJg/s320/52042925743_eea64fccf0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Kentucky Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A roar sounding like the world's largest fire hose advertised the presence of Upper Kentucky Falls. The trail made several switchbacks from above the falls down to the cascade's splash basin, each switchback providing an opportune vista point from which to admire the photogenic cascade. Just like me, the falls were impressive and noisy, and that only stood to figure because the creek was so full of water. The mist emanating from the waterfall blew into our faces but from our standpoint, it was just more water in the air and no different from our hiking experience up to this point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhda0P0VN7nGoBxq3WdHkQAvA1mYfgCTHxTDm-NUrtX0opvaSsvlfyewQ9OJJO6AK-9p5TrBDFuRFte2mZMXBa_tSEE6hhh3MqL6QCIvko7ypqNvOtoyYbU-xKShJpuZu7tLFycDsWrAgAKLB_Sp-9TNQbJ9UgUL1CsIxDZKF9PAdI5ErC2x1xshG_bg/s9465/52043368060_458325dcaf_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3467" data-original-width="9465" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhda0P0VN7nGoBxq3WdHkQAvA1mYfgCTHxTDm-NUrtX0opvaSsvlfyewQ9OJJO6AK-9p5TrBDFuRFte2mZMXBa_tSEE6hhh3MqL6QCIvko7ypqNvOtoyYbU-xKShJpuZu7tLFycDsWrAgAKLB_Sp-9TNQbJ9UgUL1CsIxDZKF9PAdI5ErC2x1xshG_bg/s320/52043368060_458325dcaf_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Fork Smith River Falls (left)<br />and Lower Kentucky Falls (right)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Another mile or so of hiking down the forested creek canyon delivered us to Lower Kentucky Falls where it was more of the same but twice the fun. Here, Kentucky Creek plunges over a ledge to create Lower Kentucky Falls. Approximately 25 yards to the left, the North Fork Smith River does the same so you have two large waterfalls thundering next to each other for all of perpetuity. It's not often you get to see two waternal-twin waterfalls tumbling side-by-side in such close proximity to each other.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCqdWws3QBT9FvXRbuOLtQJh0r-xnUTtRzW4KFs6toltf2SrZzZ-wzwxifCcwwEf-PaU7TTo289RXo1qIsf2BdN-0EIHMVK9yY2aLG84Qn1BH--bL5OZ31pxDdO9PY9OdGkI3CS3rt3kHdyBq0i7xXXGYzD_gEnKAVYl6t-nc2z8NU9Xz0zpi9GWYDQ/s5144/52044241292_e0e3f1dcb2_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3429" data-original-width="5144" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCqdWws3QBT9FvXRbuOLtQJh0r-xnUTtRzW4KFs6toltf2SrZzZ-wzwxifCcwwEf-PaU7TTo289RXo1qIsf2BdN-0EIHMVK9yY2aLG84Qn1BH--bL5OZ31pxDdO9PY9OdGkI3CS3rt3kHdyBq0i7xXXGYzD_gEnKAVYl6t-nc2z8NU9Xz0zpi9GWYDQ/s320/52044241292_e0e3f1dcb2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fern asks for a peanut</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We tarried at the lower falls for a bit to admire the view but mostly to postpone the hike up and out of the canyon for as long as possible. It had been all downhill to this point and we'd regrettably "enjoy" the uphill yang to the downhill yin on the return leg. Good thing I brought the uphill legs! I actually felt walky and pretty much power-hiked my way up the canyon in the rain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7yDwKAgs--1Tptr3EGS53-gm_3LxQfZktb9deEymwQQoFCFjYV_Z8lOMbyFz6l0oNJ-KR9XvtEBL_W8dEpFmFjaLxQp9Nz3k7-dqhrQKs1uAZBh6zvGKVJNZQH-Dn5tEwGzYeRQOgvqFfqwZWS5elA3sxtpna_avHhNQyN7LqFypVokjx8DP30HYFQ/s6000/52042918493_792575b5f5_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7yDwKAgs--1Tptr3EGS53-gm_3LxQfZktb9deEymwQQoFCFjYV_Z8lOMbyFz6l0oNJ-KR9XvtEBL_W8dEpFmFjaLxQp9Nz3k7-dqhrQKs1uAZBh6zvGKVJNZQH-Dn5tEwGzYeRQOgvqFfqwZWS5elA3sxtpna_avHhNQyN7LqFypVokjx8DP30HYFQ/s320/52042918493_792575b5f5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bird's nest fungi on a footbridge post</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was trying out a new raincoat and it was waterproof for most of the hike. However, by the time I reached the trailhead, the coat had given up the fight and I was soaked thanks to the fabric's acquiescence to the elements. The temperature was pretty chill too, and I gratefully partook of the car heater while I waited for my comrades to straggle back to the trailhead. Good things come to those that wait, they say, and there I go again, giving credence to what "they" say.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLodsPM-hidJpx-P1Al5oxp27Wi0BrZqOHRAR_W4mpzfxbC5p0FyoTV7M9n_yptao3xwwTZ8P4toZnr4QGtNvpdc0IQ9ehrnzsfs_lW3WfTnb4vhIXn3x5Os45eBpePRam-oJn468KlvO1BkurqW5E2Dzkz7KS8R9KW-WGiibR60lVJn7Nznd8SSsuw/s6000/52042863856_109c9201ea_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLodsPM-hidJpx-P1Al5oxp27Wi0BrZqOHRAR_W4mpzfxbC5p0FyoTV7M9n_yptao3xwwTZ8P4toZnr4QGtNvpdc0IQ9ehrnzsfs_lW3WfTnb4vhIXn3x5Os45eBpePRam-oJn468KlvO1BkurqW5E2Dzkz7KS8R9KW-WGiibR60lVJn7Nznd8SSsuw/s320/52042863856_109c9201ea_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smith's fairybells were seen on occasion</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzMWX2" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p> <div style="text-align: justify;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/4998908893?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-05-15T00:02:19+00:00" width="100%"></iframe></div><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/4998908893" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com2Kentucky Falls Trailhead, Mapleton, OR 97453, USA43.92828 -123.792415.618046163821155 -158.94865 72.238513836178839 -88.63615tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-31197723653210586862022-04-16T08:00:00.540-07:002022-06-14T14:04:13.625-07:00Elk Creek Trail<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesoyoPxtqOnoevwLAV55yaLofqeSs46NSj5k8d4iOE9uvAZeMu-EFFQkRmxX23S1XrBX6QWRo2DQhFlAKGq3wP1SpsTQLcSZvZaalv4KiGBi6BR0uKtDZh1wOE_N_CoB5EjylclicH3erIuj9EIMKb244D7lbiIXvXZ7mR1SD3z7WBsrVVnEZjAARTw/s6000/52015796091_cf35c91dc9_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesoyoPxtqOnoevwLAV55yaLofqeSs46NSj5k8d4iOE9uvAZeMu-EFFQkRmxX23S1XrBX6QWRo2DQhFlAKGq3wP1SpsTQLcSZvZaalv4KiGBi6BR0uKtDZh1wOE_N_CoB5EjylclicH3erIuj9EIMKb244D7lbiIXvXZ7mR1SD3z7WBsrVVnEZjAARTw/s320/52015796091_cf35c91dc9_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In hiking, weather is a much considered, oft-discussed topic. Generally, we hikers carefully parse the weather forecast before deciding when or if we get out on the trail. Failure to do so can mean enduring a wet or wintry hike without proper gear. Now, some wags will point out that we often hike in wet or wintry weather anyway, but at least it's an informed decision when we do. Usually, the forecasts are reasonably accurate but then again, there are hikes like this one at <a href="https://www.blm.gov/sites/blm.gov/files/Elk_Creek_WSR_geo.pdf" target="_blank">Elk Creek</a>, where no deliberate or measured prediction could ever accurately foretell the chaotic nature of the day's weather.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUFfWrQsciBJSPAJ_m7I3s4R9E4esYbBOZ1qZ2muN90ubhDXo3NxI5vNXDjGwRVhFsX-rpm4fan9_ZbbMwTvfJypv1skiCM-gzgokOATN4Mi74OAY-nOTZeWG5OHazujJLx5FqoV3JF9vuBIHo2YcoPwKK6_jf6wN0yCcLGisFd6B9OD1rJum5AP1qA/s6000/52014747907_ed55fdc71d_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUFfWrQsciBJSPAJ_m7I3s4R9E4esYbBOZ1qZ2muN90ubhDXo3NxI5vNXDjGwRVhFsX-rpm4fan9_ZbbMwTvfJypv1skiCM-gzgokOATN4Mi74OAY-nOTZeWG5OHazujJLx5FqoV3JF9vuBIHo2YcoPwKK6_jf6wN0yCcLGisFd6B9OD1rJum5AP1qA/s320/52014747907_ed55fdc71d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Escapees from the facility</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When we parked at the upper Elk Creek trailhead, the weather was a combo of sleet, snow, and rain that had us all hurriedly putting on rain gear right at the start. This was a <a href="https://www.friendsoftheumpqua.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Umpqua</a> venture that yours truly was leading and the weather's poor outlook meant I had only four friends on this day. This was about four more friends than I normally get and our meager party set out on the paved trail next to a very full Elk Creek, </span><span style="text-align: left;">scrunching our necks down into our shoulders in a vain effort to keep dry</span><span style="text-align: left;">.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJ3Y2z1_Jq0Tzil4oAI9vxpZay6UG-VDMsj8nNwNW3VXtn4WMWGCYbQ6t8t5K5jycQkso6_FdY-e9bT_2KwZUrkqEXpTqoavMx4C0qmrPCWDqotsiMTK03J05yZREtUj4b8WnLbqTP2jvwvolNAbr18LJJa9EJQyqzsfsfEpz-UnV6OB__ItUb3IDhA/s5949/52015804056_e12504392e_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3966" data-original-width="5949" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJ3Y2z1_Jq0Tzil4oAI9vxpZay6UG-VDMsj8nNwNW3VXtn4WMWGCYbQ6t8t5K5jycQkso6_FdY-e9bT_2KwZUrkqEXpTqoavMx4C0qmrPCWDqotsiMTK03J05yZREtUj4b8WnLbqTP2jvwvolNAbr18LJJa9EJQyqzsfsfEpz-UnV6OB__ItUb3IDhA/s320/52015804056_e12504392e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the trail to Sevenmile Swimming Hole, in the rain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a mile or so, we traded in the old historical paved roadway for a dirt path that traversed through a pasture to a local landmark known as Sevenmile Swimming Hole. There was no need for us to go swimming today for there was more than enough water (in all its forms) in the air to satisfy any urge to become completely wet. Besides which, it was pretty cold, the falling inclement being just this side of actual snowfall. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW1FuPesz2ohyetBBwOuyMxzwgpoVjE-gASnLJ_IaRlpOLihGUXq0Ru8Cw6BK921fKPQ_M0qM1oLClf1LFrxh7mb3gKzF2QYXKJPytKrd8ENmu78dzFZsxh637xhMRtSLAKL2gcBrTF6EQsT2YGQUVzSfGrwFqer8J7PeQf1zn0ARuGP5jIGyLB-eHQ/s9832/52015795126_d47dd43bdd_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3677" data-original-width="9832" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW1FuPesz2ohyetBBwOuyMxzwgpoVjE-gASnLJ_IaRlpOLihGUXq0Ru8Cw6BK921fKPQ_M0qM1oLClf1LFrxh7mb3gKzF2QYXKJPytKrd8ENmu78dzFZsxh637xhMRtSLAKL2gcBrTF6EQsT2YGQUVzSfGrwFqer8J7PeQf1zn0ARuGP5jIGyLB-eHQ/s320/52015795126_d47dd43bdd_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elk Creek did not entice us to go swimming</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Elk Creek was rain-swollen and in a semi-flooding state, the noisy creek running rampant through stands of maple and alder trees that would normally be on dry banks overlooking the stream. The creek curved past some mossy cliffs and entered the deep and silty waters of Sevenmile Swimming Hole that none of us took the opportunity to jump into. We found out Shannon likes rocks as she combed the banks and stuffed her coat pockets with souvenirs just like my daughters used to do when they were very young. Rocks in the pockets would be another pretty good reason not to jump into the swimming hole.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjH36HX1aSYkCuHtEwPPzBliMs2NByjyDoBpbpf3XXHgUFdPRWciGa7wC7H-UpcMPAEoSP2X9qrqzWBZxfZcnSpeRYrmJNA_PvBZFNYlzZL47PziChoBpzFx3EjPmG5Ar5921cj9nxKt2jfT-1gjJk8z2RwM9Hnj_-E-rZaVBeH8LCZbmiTfPMrVNzQ/s6000/52015827873_77c65528db_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjH36HX1aSYkCuHtEwPPzBliMs2NByjyDoBpbpf3XXHgUFdPRWciGa7wC7H-UpcMPAEoSP2X9qrqzWBZxfZcnSpeRYrmJNA_PvBZFNYlzZL47PziChoBpzFx3EjPmG5Ar5921cj9nxKt2jfT-1gjJk8z2RwM9Hnj_-E-rZaVBeH8LCZbmiTfPMrVNzQ/s320/52015827873_77c65528db_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was colder up there</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we departed from our little side trip to Sevenmile Swimming Hole, the heavy cloud cover began to lift, offering tantalizing peeks at the mountains flanking either side of Elk Creek's pronounced valley. Clearly and quite obviously, all had been well dusted by snow during the storm's wintry visit. But hey, if the clouds are lifting, then sunny weather can't be far behind, can it?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZh1LN-PbTwE4c7X5q0e-fwMKcU8omN-RrDbAvinMycPSmVc2KzcGXHQs39N-BeXyDSQDba-jFaundU4cCDhrWThxShnMFEOeVxsoWgY5zgC8XmJnTlVlneXmnLTSdoccyFnyiZmYJt4kzLD4ZDyf9RvQ0-g0y-H-LPAiLQQEs2mkxVm5HDXYmSEnxA/s7898/52018039828_5daff3e0e3_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3827" data-original-width="7898" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZh1LN-PbTwE4c7X5q0e-fwMKcU8omN-RrDbAvinMycPSmVc2KzcGXHQs39N-BeXyDSQDba-jFaundU4cCDhrWThxShnMFEOeVxsoWgY5zgC8XmJnTlVlneXmnLTSdoccyFnyiZmYJt4kzLD4ZDyf9RvQ0-g0y-H-LPAiLQQEs2mkxVm5HDXYmSEnxA/s320/52018039828_5daff3e0e3_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail is an old decommissioned roadway</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The answer to that question was answered by a vigorous hailstorm. Apparently, it can hail quite heartily from lifting cloud cover. I can also say, from personal experience, that hail on a hat brim makes quite a racket, rendering any would-be conversation futile, not that any one of my companions wanted to talk to me anyway, seeing how this was all my fault. This ten-minute squall was the first of three notable hailstorms on the day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2T7EiH9dF6KStAPtg8NKPw_JLsIxcLipkGE47onJBle1S0D798eEcqf-0oNYJlpfzmDKBuL2f2vNMLQba1shLRtHanGNIf0DXLDEe5ll5r60R4iwcmeAajkzwbaB_u9mCJXnJnbOfbiIswa3kS7cle3rqXedzQ6fEhch42E4Kivq810e4KuBelaYsQ/s6000/52018511640_e99a8527af_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2T7EiH9dF6KStAPtg8NKPw_JLsIxcLipkGE47onJBle1S0D798eEcqf-0oNYJlpfzmDKBuL2f2vNMLQba1shLRtHanGNIf0DXLDEe5ll5r60R4iwcmeAajkzwbaB_u9mCJXnJnbOfbiIswa3kS7cle3rqXedzQ6fEhch42E4Kivq810e4KuBelaYsQ/s320/52018511640_e99a8527af_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow Man came to visit us like every five<br />minutes or so, and he did not stay very long, either</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">We stoically endured our pelting by millions of high-velocity ice pellets and after a bit, the clouds really did begin to break apart, with blue sky leaking through the seams. Eventually, the sun shone and the day became hot enough to get us removing coats and sweatshirts. But then after that ten-minute heat wave, another hailstorm had us putting them back on to stave off the cold. Sheesh, would you make up your weather mind? You could almost hear sardonic chuckles from capricious weather gods as we geared up or down, depending on the climate of the moment and the whims of the deities.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1YgmZ72hF9H2NbPROi5tRpt0RbGbiNBi-5NtwOXGcz05Lar7sCK0ZAll8WYIezfF0iUZXyZVdoISIl2VhItbRSMwTaTBhZtsYilTIljY_wvOzjQjcu-aRXTJUlE1D4waPzA1lVhpSXcwsGYMwl7vfuZj2juju4h8JCBO8R07lC9vhcVo5MG5CqA_Mw/s6000/52018227629_738dfdb58b_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1YgmZ72hF9H2NbPROi5tRpt0RbGbiNBi-5NtwOXGcz05Lar7sCK0ZAll8WYIezfF0iUZXyZVdoISIl2VhItbRSMwTaTBhZtsYilTIljY_wvOzjQjcu-aRXTJUlE1D4waPzA1lVhpSXcwsGYMwl7vfuZj2juju4h8JCBO8R07lC9vhcVo5MG5CqA_Mw/s320/52018227629_738dfdb58b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jan and Shannon hike past a peace<br />offering to the weather gods</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We turned back at the five-mile mark, making for a nice little ten-mile round-trip hike. On the return leg, the clouds generally stayed high and we enjoyed brief sunny interludes between rain and heavy cloud cover, the weather changing like every two minutes. A highlight of the trip was a short visit to some homestead ruins, adorned with occult spray-painted runes that just might explain the manic weather.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeALaAxgDZDPi0CZF1Wvxf_1wX5Vwyr54cRjxXshe9YnGlLdcVvpooCxMlgF1xIGdibQugR2eioNg5opde42tBuP6QtnktfXVqyXWdFJTxTKfy0HSEQ8tvaU664oPnQKYBw268p1SRc7xzVtaLCiA4G0f_GXc-u7M2WAztiMi-9DvrDlxx69cojZNXQ/s6000/52016945297_765eb12fe0_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeALaAxgDZDPi0CZF1Wvxf_1wX5Vwyr54cRjxXshe9YnGlLdcVvpooCxMlgF1xIGdibQugR2eioNg5opde42tBuP6QtnktfXVqyXWdFJTxTKfy0HSEQ8tvaU664oPnQKYBw268p1SRc7xzVtaLCiA4G0f_GXc-u7M2WAztiMi-9DvrDlxx69cojZNXQ/s320/52016945297_765eb12fe0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This last hail storm was the nastiest one</td></tr></tbody></table><br />About a half-mile from the finish, the day darkened once again, the wind picked up, and horizontal rain became horizontal hail. Apparently Elk Creek wanted to give us a pneumonia diagnosis to remember it by. As we leaned into the sheets of hail coming at us, the trailhead seemed so far away. But then, to no surprise, the wind died down, the hail changed to rain, and then the rain died out. By the time, we reached the trailhead about fifteen minutes later, the sun was out again. Go figure!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mLsVWFdn5BzkkSxQ3361FKgYCIGd6ME1YwcsaNGHtkAo5GgRuof-Y-k8LRGkVLYupttSrLr_aOsMB-sz2_PJ94hl3i9tS-vl8xbEvVzjGmoym8-TZkioJAbj2uem0c8pPGzsgUCUGBpFBc1i-cCr3yP44BGs4Zlc3s-6q7lLx9BXz2Lt9S3m0VR9Ig/s6000/52018245429_54bba5bcea_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mLsVWFdn5BzkkSxQ3361FKgYCIGd6ME1YwcsaNGHtkAo5GgRuof-Y-k8LRGkVLYupttSrLr_aOsMB-sz2_PJ94hl3i9tS-vl8xbEvVzjGmoym8-TZkioJAbj2uem0c8pPGzsgUCUGBpFBc1i-cCr3yP44BGs4Zlc3s-6q7lLx9BXz2Lt9S3m0VR9Ig/s320/52018245429_54bba5bcea_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearby mountains disappear behind the hail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The story of this hike was all about the wild and ever changing weather we had walked in. If you noticed, I haven't really talked about the scenery, which is a shame for Elk Creek and its valley are quite scenic. But then again, it's going to be all about the weather when the day is either sunny, cloudy, snowy, rainy, cold, warm, hailing, windy, or all of the above and sometimes all at once!</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKKCAzQwqQHscLs5Gwedrgxu0Y3F6jdrtifLftbVfp--enps2zruOmYJoe7fS6oqKim126aYLa97OuwP3qUv9ElQ7ja8yFc41AiBO5dlTXw8rxf_nzIuY5qRWb7dNbCbS_etLN2JMOEIhgwAOrQVefbsfCLwqZtpUXcYyVEKtHpCbCiUnFNqWMJA_4w/s6000/52016960162_7fcddb7e10_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKKCAzQwqQHscLs5Gwedrgxu0Y3F6jdrtifLftbVfp--enps2zruOmYJoe7fS6oqKim126aYLa97OuwP3qUv9ElQ7ja8yFc41AiBO5dlTXw8rxf_nzIuY5qRWb7dNbCbS_etLN2JMOEIhgwAOrQVefbsfCLwqZtpUXcYyVEKtHpCbCiUnFNqWMJA_4w/s320/52016960162_7fcddb7e10_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't like the weather?<br />Just wait a minute!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, <a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzLgix" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a>.<p></p><iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/4951290085?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-04-17T00:42:40+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/4951290085" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0Upper Elk Creek Trailhead 8218- 8878 Elk Creek Rd Trail, OR 9754142.751046 -122.698917442.738442335512474 -122.71608353769531 42.763649664487531 -122.68175126230469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1954169774784248994.post-70693941151902379672022-04-06T08:00:00.593-07:002022-06-08T12:05:03.189-07:00North Bank (West Loop)<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQWoVYh5qMmW-xaOrbnmHqW4KZvZw2tg1xvr9Krn9tDvM-g_AfGPhAeZHAgwV35Ady0mEMurI6LEeGq8gixn4hbihU1MgHyzuPrC3Qo9pqPFOKZf72t-Pg-aLMATjqrENVzUuqf2AmaBOhUDjJ49N0XtR1Csfl5jcoIsVgaBGHtCHOLG2v-7gu0LRQA/s12998/52011228860_6a7027ba60_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3159" data-original-width="12998" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQWoVYh5qMmW-xaOrbnmHqW4KZvZw2tg1xvr9Krn9tDvM-g_AfGPhAeZHAgwV35Ady0mEMurI6LEeGq8gixn4hbihU1MgHyzuPrC3Qo9pqPFOKZf72t-Pg-aLMATjqrENVzUuqf2AmaBOhUDjJ49N0XtR1Csfl5jcoIsVgaBGHtCHOLG2v-7gu0LRQA/s320/52011228860_6a7027ba60_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I went with some friends the other day on a mid-week hike at our frequent hiking haunt, the <a href="https://www.blm.gov/visit/north-bank-habitat-management-area" target="_blank">North Bank Habitat</a>. Our route of choice was the loop which I have always unimaginatively and directionally referred to as the West Loop, but today I heard it cited as the Boot Camp Loop. It sort of fits because the steepness of the trails that wind up and down the various high points on the north ridge will have your wishing for an honorable discharge in no time at all.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-7hptwYk2aGAOyNDUNZokOCiuNLe0JRXpJlF_-Hg0vxZm2a8MHtqcB8REhJMvyTy1PT6VtsbMeRkP43_zRhJHI5EvH2Ueats3gQ6mKe7f-R3nCTHe6-NnbjpJ-uIPN9Z0hIOTM11SJT-YqZ919yS2kTpxPWs3rgeGByLzB-erOCJM3VUG6NA7aLJyQ/s6000/52006947136_e8a9e258b0_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-7hptwYk2aGAOyNDUNZokOCiuNLe0JRXpJlF_-Hg0vxZm2a8MHtqcB8REhJMvyTy1PT6VtsbMeRkP43_zRhJHI5EvH2Ueats3gQ6mKe7f-R3nCTHe6-NnbjpJ-uIPN9Z0hIOTM11SJT-YqZ919yS2kTpxPWs3rgeGByLzB-erOCJM3VUG6NA7aLJyQ/s320/52006947136_e8a9e258b0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simply a beautiful spring day at the Habitat</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It didn't take long for the seven of us to separate into two distinct hiking cadres: me and Penny, and everybody else. Guess which two hikers had cameras? At any rate, the morning was crisp and clear, the hills were bathed in green grass, and the floral end of the gene pool was in full spring symphony, be it in flowers or leaves. So we walked slow and enjoyed the scenery while our comrades marched in double-time up and down the hills at some unseen distance ahead of us. Just so they wouldn't wonder whether or not we had carked it on the trail, we sent a text message advising the speedsters not to wait for us.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7g6ApuswzLardVp9-_ubXGUA63TB1Y3GqfUy3TB-HWrIj0OJF4nYGAiJDDnL1OKez1n6j6dR1KU99MT5cvHTA5C_4-Xtts-sjqTXmjxZi089gu0l9tMZ2L3m4D-i_AToJtbkMoDLPnXt2mqAnKT-sKX6cH332LAB6ixzW2e0mD1Ty8UW9mNyZJ0aO2g/s5088/52009616921_51d344c976_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3392" data-original-width="5088" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7g6ApuswzLardVp9-_ubXGUA63TB1Y3GqfUy3TB-HWrIj0OJF4nYGAiJDDnL1OKez1n6j6dR1KU99MT5cvHTA5C_4-Xtts-sjqTXmjxZi089gu0l9tMZ2L3m4D-i_AToJtbkMoDLPnXt2mqAnKT-sKX6cH332LAB6ixzW2e0mD1Ty8UW9mNyZJ0aO2g/s320/52009616921_51d344c976_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maple trees were in full flower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first part of the route initially followed a gravel road through ranch pastures where bemused cows placidly chewed cud as we hiked by. A right turn put us on a dirt road accompanying barely trickling Chasm Creek flowing through some peaceful and serene oak woods, the trees still bereft of any leaves. Branches were draped with long strands of lichen that swayed with the slightest air current while birds musically chirped their mating calls in feathered hopes of scoring an avian romp in the woods. Wild iris, shooting stars, henbit, buttercup, and Oregon grape bloomed amok in the green grasses reposing under a vibrant blue sky, making bees and butterflies happy. Life was good and colorful here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDUC7-t26qSGXY0ksQXuFumuzaEJMc5n4MO6lKmzsb6sA_6APzj3RbUL1z-Khcaqi8ZPQOMuJPsVMiWqLLb0cA4-YEw6pqWnOB7OBFSvSGy-OSj5G5Urz0H5FpOEW7iDBw--tigDMjNS7COxgnaSsEryxtUbDnHoke7JNBcqQ_hxC4SmBmmOVAIOYow/s6000/52009619576_4afb59434b_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDUC7-t26qSGXY0ksQXuFumuzaEJMc5n4MO6lKmzsb6sA_6APzj3RbUL1z-Khcaqi8ZPQOMuJPsVMiWqLLb0cA4-YEw6pqWnOB7OBFSvSGy-OSj5G5Urz0H5FpOEW7iDBw--tigDMjNS7COxgnaSsEryxtUbDnHoke7JNBcqQ_hxC4SmBmmOVAIOYow/s320/52009619576_4afb59434b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One steep trail in a Habitat full of them</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The colorful beauty was soon forgotten though, supplanted instead by the immediate urgency of burning leg muscles when the trail headed uphill in earnest, seemingly in a hurry to get up to North Boundary Ridge. Didn't anybody ever hear of a switchback? But, if you are going to struggle on a hike, you should have beautiful things to look at, and we did. As we gained elevation, white baby blue-eyes populated the grassy parts, while flower friends desert parsley and purple sanicle aided and abetted. Penny and I spent more than one occasion crawling through the aforementioned green grass like human sheep, just to photograph the flowers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRYhQfy5KLsb902MDYXqSLW_Cao2D1vYJa0BRt5aqyraLEInO9cTzpv-8XWGF4rgxnZv7pX425JBE4w2TfW6A5NlKX-wfKEY0SDL7m6S3j_v68RUk4HIIStuiPQFKHmmMoPTIBrfEsT1OVsw3iyx0CCelBxfm-EbjJtVyXL9MUCa7iG8W1gZF_UYABQ/s6000/52010964129_4d6290dd27_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRYhQfy5KLsb902MDYXqSLW_Cao2D1vYJa0BRt5aqyraLEInO9cTzpv-8XWGF4rgxnZv7pX425JBE4w2TfW6A5NlKX-wfKEY0SDL7m6S3j_v68RUk4HIIStuiPQFKHmmMoPTIBrfEsT1OVsw3iyx0CCelBxfm-EbjJtVyXL9MUCa7iG8W1gZF_UYABQ/s320/52010964129_4d6290dd27_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dark leaves of Satan's favorite shrub </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Spring is the optimal season to visit the Habitat in my opinion. As mentioned, the hills were wrapped in a vivid shawl of green grass; that is, if you ignore the dark bloodshot leaves of poison oak. Ignore at your own risk, though, for the plant is quite profuse and is ever ready to award rashes to inattentive hikers. The accursed plant was everywhere, and while I have issues with its itchy malevolence, the new red leaves do impart a splashy, flashy, yet rashy burgundy vibe to the hike. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHohkZ5j6vl2bzgyNhHSssjrtptrXoiuJkMX1tGn_FrIKTDwZyuPbdqI8XrU8O9ofWAfp8Jh5UWAUujicfZYCgM5qBBd5uqCMIOwGJCbckV60SrKZKMZ8iX75Lf41QeKU75gdexmQn0ivvEwvAXoXJRASJhAFY99idCnKigPGa3wRZosolHBay6VLCQ/s6000/52009862824_6a1e200c1e_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHohkZ5j6vl2bzgyNhHSssjrtptrXoiuJkMX1tGn_FrIKTDwZyuPbdqI8XrU8O9ofWAfp8Jh5UWAUujicfZYCgM5qBBd5uqCMIOwGJCbckV60SrKZKMZ8iX75Lf41QeKU75gdexmQn0ivvEwvAXoXJRASJhAFY99idCnKigPGa3wRZosolHBay6VLCQ/s320/52009862824_6a1e200c1e_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gentle and rolling</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As we gained elevation, the trees thinned out and then it was all gentle and rolling green hills dotted with small stands of oak trees. I've often said the gentle rolling hills are only gentle when you don't have to hike up them and that wry observation still holds true. At any rate, the more we climbed, the more we were treated to some amazing views of the peaks and valleys surrounding the North Umpqua River, ever flowing below our North Boundary Ridge aerie in a series of serpentine bends with the water glinting silver in the noonday sunlight. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYCDkNVvXw0ZiMZFTenAG2RnBntZt-TirgMGxDda0a5PnXWqLJmwHV_3r7G1KjELeYk3DVjTv8m-a80dgAGIS2-JVWqrRDDDfGtQ2ohUl5yNqQBSr1NxubQFmiFJhnJ-aNGvDx3ZAdaHrRgTTGSfwOJxy4Sabd4c7PkCskCjRsqLLV-m9xTiCjrPu4MA/s11168/52009618636_3819ee0ca5_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3737" data-original-width="11168" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYCDkNVvXw0ZiMZFTenAG2RnBntZt-TirgMGxDda0a5PnXWqLJmwHV_3r7G1KjELeYk3DVjTv8m-a80dgAGIS2-JVWqrRDDDfGtQ2ohUl5yNqQBSr1NxubQFmiFJhnJ-aNGvDx3ZAdaHrRgTTGSfwOJxy4Sabd4c7PkCskCjRsqLLV-m9xTiCjrPu4MA/s320/52009618636_3819ee0ca5_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail on top of the North Bank world</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Part of the reason we could see so far was that the weather was perfect. It was never too hot, the sun was out, and the sky was blue and cloudless. The clarity of the air meant that we could see many leagues in every direction, although the air did haze up a bit as the day wore on. As an example, the distant peaks of the Siskiyou Wilderness, located just over 100 miles away in California, were faintly visible to the naked eye on the southwestern horizon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggI3PQcMzJLh_8542ZKR-S1rRWXwS9nLAYKhGQzZRToyJmDI1I6nRvh4GdGbBjTQzAwiraWvU-CTuBUPdNE-t--ca1-5JyfANEN6e6nWAe0XjfehD_flh-q2y2YVH_tlYUkjTPMvgk_PlstP9_b0Vb3EiB6IXUegypsagbgy6SFRt_6Rb_tilRWL8Pw/s6000/52009860614_d1c9788d56_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggI3PQcMzJLh_8542ZKR-S1rRWXwS9nLAYKhGQzZRToyJmDI1I6nRvh4GdGbBjTQzAwiraWvU-CTuBUPdNE-t--ca1-5JyfANEN6e6nWAe0XjfehD_flh-q2y2YVH_tlYUkjTPMvgk_PlstP9_b0Vb3EiB6IXUegypsagbgy6SFRt_6Rb_tilRWL8Pw/s320/52009860614_d1c9788d56_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's all (not!) downhill from here</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once on North Boundary Ridge, the Boot Camp aspects of the hike were on full display as the trail went up and down, always steep, and never level. The trail summited what felt like 5,532 high points and promontories, the only saving grace being the totally awesome views of the terrain flanking the North Umpqua River. But once we hit Middle Ridge, it was mostly downhill, the irony being there were still several steep uphill pitches on the descent, even though the trail was generally pointed downward. In the North Bank, even the downhill hiking can qualify as a Boot Camp Hike.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhG2Z3YKT6NMmtXslXI0x_d0DQCDoXslX545ICizmfKXEkYKst3a0omtCMhBOuaNiOldTTfMF1HzlJ2_N4FAdVJzwHusJlBPG93mzQ_6Xr0jkt_LkMgJyBmUGebCQwgYgfwOoD6qk4sPf1cxVvCFT1o91Dd7zlHuVjyobxvfj5Erc08BcqIFC4SmivYg/s6000/52010960599_d541167527_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhG2Z3YKT6NMmtXslXI0x_d0DQCDoXslX545ICizmfKXEkYKst3a0omtCMhBOuaNiOldTTfMF1HzlJ2_N4FAdVJzwHusJlBPG93mzQ_6Xr0jkt_LkMgJyBmUGebCQwgYgfwOoD6qk4sPf1cxVvCFT1o91Dd7zlHuVjyobxvfj5Erc08BcqIFC4SmivYg/s320/52010960599_d541167527_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butter cups by the cupful</td></tr></tbody></table><br />All good Boot Camp Hikes do come to an end though, and this one ended at a noteworthy field of buttercups at the trailhead. One buttercup does not an awesome sight make, but cram millions of them into a grassy pasture then you then have a visual buttered French Toast ready to be slathered in sticky syrup. The sight of that golden parcel of pasture was more than adequate reward for the Boot Camp trials and tribulations on the day for us two plebes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1hAxbaRG9VlfI9JcCu4zsF-nV3nebSeYF97-bo0Zhltjg_cr6QPLVhsrATp8lOEt9vHlLgZ9vFtGjgv6jdNakk3g8WRyk3x7SCx-ww_1oeV3LizFzOBRKBLc_WW3gzKtLdmqENP8VIziuQrr_zKCkCfDrMr4IRqHQqirb7uWxdt6p372i2IsXLccjA/s5316/52009617191_7746fcc05c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3544" data-original-width="5316" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1hAxbaRG9VlfI9JcCu4zsF-nV3nebSeYF97-bo0Zhltjg_cr6QPLVhsrATp8lOEt9vHlLgZ9vFtGjgv6jdNakk3g8WRyk3x7SCx-ww_1oeV3LizFzOBRKBLc_WW3gzKtLdmqENP8VIziuQrr_zKCkCfDrMr4IRqHQqirb7uWxdt6p372i2IsXLccjA/s320/52009617191_7746fcc05c_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An agoseris blooms in the low grass</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For more photos of this hike, </span><a href="https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjzKMu6" style="text-align: justify;" target="_blank">please visit the Flickr album</a><span style="text-align: justify;">.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div> <iframe frameborder="0" height="400px" id="mapmyfitness_route" src="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/embedded/4937650378?width=600&height=400&&line_color=E68006c6&rgbhex=c60680&distance_markers=0&unit_type=imperial&map_mode=TERRAIN&show_marker_every=1&last_updated=2022-04-17T00:37:38+00:00" width="100%"></iframe><div style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-top: 8px;"><a href="https://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/4937650378" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">More Details</a></div>Richard O'Neillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02220291149016460968noreply@blogger.com0North Bank Habitat Management Area, 6062-6098 N Bank Rd, Roseburg, OR 97470, USA43.3163997 -123.200108743.310155275383238 -123.20869176884766 43.322644124616758 -123.19152563115234