Mule Creek Trail

"Grandpa, stop the car!" came the frantic cry from the back seat "I'm going to be sick!" If there's one thing I've learned in my lifetime, it's to immediately honor that particular request so stop we did. The door flew open, Issiah rolled out onto the gravel road and for the next few minutes, us car occupants were treated to a symphony of wet urping noises that had us all (me and other grandchildren Daweson and Coral Rae) holding back sympathy gags. It was pretty much at that point that I became resigned to the fact that this hike was going to be less than epic.

What's a hike without some poison oak?

Before I continue on with the story of this hike, let's take a quick side trip to the tale of how the current incarnation of the Mule Creek Trail came to be, based on my recollection from a presentation I attended, several years back, given by Gabriel Howe, the executive director of the Siskiyou Mountain Club. Gabriel had been hired as a summer caretaker for the Rogue River Ranch, a backwoods museum located near Marial. One day he went to hike the Mule Creek Trail and found out to his chagrin that the trail had long since been abandoned and was no longer in existence.

Mountain goat on a cliffy goat path

Irritated that the trail would be on the map but not on the ground, he formed the Siskiyou Mountain Club to refurbish and maintain hiking trails in southwestern Oregon. One of the first projects completed was the complete rehabilitation of the Mule Creek Trail. Nowadays, the trail works its way up Mule Creek's rugged canyon, eventually joining up with the Panther Ridge Trail (after a whole lor of uphill walking), and then returns to the Rogue River Trail to complete a 25'ish mile backpacking loop. In a case of "if you build it, they will come" the Mule Creek Trail sees a fair amount of use from backpackers looking for a rugged and challenging trek.

Guess which three belong to me

I was really looking forward to getting out on this trail for my first time but an urping child was going to definitely curtail this initial visit. However, Issiah is a battler and he was willing to give it some kind of effort so we continued on to the trailhead, rejoining with the Friends of the Umpqua, who were waiting and wondering what happened to us.

Trees have to get used to growing in rock around here

Mule Creek runs into the larger Rogue River near the remote way station of Marial so it would figure that Mule Creek would resemble a figurative child of the Rogue River Trail. The vibe was all Siskiyou as the rough track meandered through trees consisting of that Siskiyou mix of oak, laurel, madrone, and conifer growing on the slopes of an arid and rocky ravine.

Way too close to the edge (don't tell his mom!)

Didn't take long for the trail to get cliffy à la Rogue River Trail too, as it was etched into a cliff face overlooking Mule Creek's deep and inhospitable gorge.  In many places, it was so deep that the creek was hidden from view as it tumbled and roiled somewhere down at the bottom of the seeming abyss. We stopped for several gawk-stops in between short rounds of hiking like so many mountain goats on a narrow trail. 

Precarious bridge at the first crossing

After a mile or so of hiking, the bridge at the first of three crossings of Mule Creek came into view, the bridge looking ever so frail and tiny when compared to the massive canyon it was spanning. After the bridge crossing, the trail would forsake Mule Creek proper for Mule Creek's west fork. Same old rugged canyon vibe, though, no matter which fork of Mule Creek we were on.

A creek full of caddisfly larvae

The trail crossed the creek for the second time at a shallow pool with stunningly clear water which left no place to hide for the abundant numbers of caddisfly larvae crawling on the bottom. For protection, caddisfly larvae glue small pebbles and twigs around their soft bodies and as a result, it looked like small rocks were scuttling about on the creek bottom.

A cluster of Solomon's seal fruits

Issiah's warrior heart was willing but frankly, throwing up really depletes the body's energy reserves and he was gassed at this point. He graciously offered to sit at the pool and nap while we continued on to the third crossing of the creek, so we left him in the shade and continued walking uphill on a brushy trail. Having to choose between child abandonment and hiking, I'm glad to report we all chose hiking!

A couple of head-dippers

The hot and dusty trail headed up and over a brushy ridge before dropping down to the third crossing located at the bottom of a narrow gorge. The kids decided this was the place to kneel next to the rushing creek and dip their heads into the cool water, much to the amusement of us adults too dignified to do the same, although we all secretly wanted to.

John arrives at the third crossing

From here, the trail begins a long a protracted climb out of the Rogue River canyon (of which, Mule Creek and its canyon were a lesser part of), culminating on top of Panther Ridge. The climb is long and steep enough to make you hate hiking, but fortunately for me and my crew, we were going to turn back and retrieve Issiah. Our hiking friends would continue on for a mile or two before turning back, so we said our goodbyes and returned to the second crossing.

Beetle battle on a common yarrow

So, this wound up being a long drive for a short three-mile hike but some things just can't be helped. It was truly some spectacular landscape and scenery, and my appetite's been whetted for a return visit. And speaking of appetites, Issiah didn't have one but at least he didn't urp up any more and our return to Roseburg was less eventful than the drive to the Mule Creek trailhead.

A deep and narrow cleft contains Mule Creek

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

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Mule Mountain

Consider the enchilada from the enchilada's perspective. Roasting in a hot oven, the stuffed tortilla cooks and swelters in the oven pan until the cheese inside melts. I only offer this brief discussion about Mexican cuisine because on a recent hike on the Mule Mountain Trail, I felt exactly like an enchilada with the cheese running out of it.

Shade is NOT overrated

At the start of the hike, the trail ambled underneath shady oaks and later through a mixed conifer forest. While the trail headed unrelentingly uphill, the grade wasn't too bad and the shade kept things quite pleasant. Mule Mountain is a great wildflower hike in spring and there were so many things to take pictures of. The thick and tangled undergrowth was vibrantly green and jungly. Unfortunately, the jungle underneath the trees was mostly comprised of lush stands of poison oak, I did not lie down on the ground to take pictures of low-growing flowers as is my usual custom.

A litter of cat's ears

So at this point, my cheddar was still sharp, so to speak. That would begin to change when the trail attained a ridge crest near the junction with the Mule Creek Trail. The trees thinned out and the vegetation morphed from dense jungle to open stands of oak, manzanita, poison oak, and thorny ceanothus bushes. Along the trail were all the cat's ears you could ever want to take pictures of. These small lilies are fuzzy on the inside, allegedly just like a cat's ear. I can't say that for a fact because my cat does not let me peer down into his ears and he has sharp claws.

Glen dutifully clears the trail

The Mule Mountain Trail basically contours the slopes of its namesake mountain and then leaves the mountain behind altogether, making a mad charge upward to Baldy Peak. The trees simply don't grow here and if you like baking in the hot sun, then you will love the Mule Mountain Trail. Based on past experience, Glen is a tick magnet so we sent him ahead to clear the trail. We need not have taken that precaution because the tick multitudes normally prevalent on this trail were a non-factor.

Some of that 2,581 feet of elevation gain

So it's been a hot and treeless hike so far but on the plus side, the trail gradient now ratcheted up about 30 degrees. Yes, I'm being sarcastic. It was about here where my cheese began to melt and ooze out both sides of the rolled tortilla, figuratively speaking. Like my metaphoric enchilada, I was thoroughly cooked, slather on some hot sauce and call me a chimichanga. The hike became a slow laborious trudge even though we could see up ahead the one lone tree that marked the turnaround point below Baldy Peak. The tree was so close, yet so far.

View from the top

The slopes on Baldy Peak are steep and drop precipitously away from the trail, providing nice views to the valleys below and the mountains above. Of course, the views were only appreciated once we plopped down in the shade under that one lone tree below the Baldy Peak summit. An impressive 2,581 feet below, our car was waiting for us somewhere in the Applegate River valley. Next-door mountain neighbor Little Grayback Mountain raised its forested head over nearby Mule Creek Canyon. Further in the distance stretched a chain of Siskiyou Mountain mountains all the way from Grayback Mountain to Dutchman Peak. The Red Buttes were snowless and glinted a dull orange in the slight haze. The vista was enjoyed as we ate sandwiches while waiting for blood and sensation to return to our legs.

Lupines add colorize the Mule Mountain Trail

Once our cheese was reconstituted by the lunchtime rest, it was a quad-burning, leg-braking, toe-jamming descent on the way down, the exertion being nearly as tough as the climb up. However, silver leaved lupines were putting on a purple flowered show and camera stops provided occasional rest breaks. Once we hit the bottom of the trail, we all agreed it had been a great, albeit difficult, hike. Glen did remark "Now we know why Dollie doesn't hike with you anymore" I laughed, even though it was true.

Naked broomrape

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

Carol and Glen lead the way (no camera!)

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Mule Creek

Many years ago, I volunteered to lead a Friends of the Umpqua Hiking Club hike up Mule Mountain. In the annals of club lore, that hike will live in infamy. The trail was basically 4 miles of uphill with no shade under the hot sun. That was the first time I heard the phrase "Richard-Hike" bandied about, and not in a complimentary way, either.

You ain't nuthin' but a hound's tongue

Despite the relentless climb, I enjoyed the hike. There are magnificent views of the Siskiyou Mountains and given the right time of year, the slopes are festooned with wildflowers of every color. Because I've enjoyed this hike, I have returned to visit the Mule Mountain area many times since. And many times since, I have questioned why I hate myself as sweat mixed with sun lotion runs into my eyes, ticks burrow into my skin, poison oak makes me itch for the next three weeks, and of course all the trails run straight uphill.

Shooting stars carpeted the forest floor

A couple of days ago, we caught our first taste of summer heat as the temperature reached the 90's. Tree-lined Mule Creek (below infamous Mule Mountain) looked like it was shady and that was the only reason this trail was chosen. The Mule Creek Trail is accessed 3/4 of a mile up the Mule Mountain Trail which meant I got to relive the Mule Mountain leg-burn experience by climbing steeply through a shaded forest carpeted with bright fuschia colored shooting stars.

View to Little Grayback Peak above Mule Creek

Once on a Mule Mountain spur ridge, the Mule Creek Trail heads steadily down through grassy and brushy slopes into Mule Creek's canyon. On the way down, I enjoyed nice views of the Applegate River valley and of Little Grayback Peak looming at the head of the canyon. Of course, I had to be careful to dodge poison oak encroaching the path but the tick-checks yielded none of the little vampires, thankfully.

Build me up, buttercup

From glacier lilies to red bells, the spring flowers were putting on their usual show.  A member of the onion family with one of my favorite names (ookow) was also prevalent.  Ookow is also known as blue dick, which prudish Webshots censures, thereby denying Webshots users some crude hilarity.  The hound's tongue were blooming in profuse clusters of blue flowers; the term "hound's tongue" refers to the shape of the leaf and has nothing to do with my ex-wife.

Once at the bottom of the canyon, the trail follows an old road bed alongside the creek.  The creek was overgrown with brush and was mostly heard and seldom scene.  At the point where the roadbend ended, the path crossed the creek and became a bonafide trail.  The mid-afternoon heat was rolling down the slopes and collecting at the bottom of the ravine and I paused to stick my head in the remarkably clear waters of the stream.  Yikes!  The water was not far removed from snowmelt and gave me what felt like a brain freeze, only the freeze was in the whole brain and not confined to just the upper sinuses. 

C'mon in, the water's freezing!

Steep trails make me hate hiking

After a second crossing of the creek, the trail charged up a dry hill covered in madrone. The trail had been heading uphill all along, but this was steeper than the price of gas nowadays. It was hard to gauge my progress because of all the trees but it did seem like I was heading up the creek's headwaters below the disturbingly named Baldy Peak. Several miles later, I was still wondering where the @#$% end of the trail was and I was hot, tired, and as sweaty as a Zuma class in a sauna.

I turned around at my self-imposed 4:30 PM deadline and headed back down the trail, totally defeated. I didn't feel so bad on the way down because it was readily apparent why I was tired:  this was a long and steep trail. Of course, there was the steep climb out of the creek canyon to the Mule Mountain Trail to look forward to. 

Typical hike in this area:  I came back with lots of nice pictures and yet again, I'm wondering why I hate myself so.