Cape Arago

It was a King Tide day and at Sunset Bay State Park, Big Creek was unnaturally full of water being forced upstream by the incoming tide. In between waves, I stood next to the creek and took several photographs of the bay, keeping a wary eye on an incoming wave that just kept coming and coming without any inclination of slowing down any time soon. Bye, gotta go! I took off running and all was well until I dropped my hiking pole. Dammit, that wasn't in my carefully crafted plan for escape! I reached down and picked it up, fumbled the pole pick up, then fumbled it again. Finally, got a firm grasp on the sucker and then I really had to move as the surge roared up Big Creek, covering up where I had been standing just seconds before with about 3 to 4 feet of fast moving water. A King Tide is nothing to mess with, dudes and dudettes.

Before

After

King Tide is a non-scientific term for an abnormally high tide. Oregon gets them several times a year and Shore Acres State Park is the perfect locale for experiencing the huge waves that sometimes result. The caveat is that a high surf is also required, because it is entirely possible for a King Tide to fail to generate huge waves and it's also possible for huge waves to manifest without benefit of a King Tide. But on this day, it was the perfect storm in that the King Tide was occurring in conjunction with a heavy surf generated by stormy weather. That was all I needed to wake up before dawn and arrive at Sunset Bay bright and early, trusty camera at the ready.    

A wave really would like to smite some hikers

I was more than happy to hike up on the forested bluffs overlooking the wild ocean after my near escape at Sunset Bay. But I shouldn't have felt that secure, for the waves, after surging into the unyielding cliffs, exploded into white-watered mayhem that often rose twenty feet or so higher than the trail, which was already twenty feet or so higher than the ocean. As I hiked through the woods, I could hear the booming surf cannonading in loud blasts up and down the coast, sounding like the most prolific thunderstorm ever.

A seagull rethinks its flight plan

As the route rounded the rocky cove of Norton Gulch, exposed rocky shoals came into view and the waves breaking over them were an awesome sight. A seagull was patrolling the shoreline and was probably questioning its life choices when one large wave enveloped the bird into its watery embrace, somewhat to my amusement. The constant mist from the waves refracted sunlight which is a non-romantic and very scientific way to say there were lots of rainbows.

Fountain in the Shore Acres garden 

As stated before, Shore Acres is the place to be when the big waves put on a show, what with the strategically sited viewpoint and observation area with easy access. Accordingly, throngs of photographers and videographers were gathered there to get their own personal iconic photos and/or videos of the booming waves. Rather than brandish my sharp elbows to rudely jostle for a place in the photography queue, I figured I'd hike to the secluded bluffs south of Simpson Beach and take some photos from there. However, the trail to the beach was gated shut with a dour-faced park ranger standing by, sternly enforcing the trail-closed edict. Seems that last year during a King Tide event, somebody went down to the beach and got themselves into trouble so now the park simply closes the beach trail whenever a King Tide event occurs.

Some of that Shore Acres action

Well, that screwed up my plans and since I wasn't ready to quit hiking yet, I backtracked through the Shore Acres gardens and made my way onto the trail heading up to the World War II bunker, since I'd never been to that landmark. Built as a watch station for Japanese submarines, the ruins of the bunker have long since been swallowed up by the forest and you currently would not be able to see the ocean from the bunker, much less a submarine unless it snuck up from behind, tapped you on the shoulder, and said "Boo, I'm a submarine!"

From defending the country to this

At the bunker ruins, vandals (or graffiti artists, depending on your point of view) had redecorated the old place. To be honest, all the color on the walls in a forested setting was visually interesting and kind of on the cool side. What was not cool were the spray paint cans left behind, along with several painted trees. I think the lack of respect bothers me more than the actual artwork. At any rate, the side trip to the bunker nominally served its purpose in extending the hike's mileage to a reasonable distance.

Large waves boomed up and down the coast

It was just about high tide and the waves would be as large as they were going to get today, so I hiked up the Cape Arago Highway until a resumption of the (open) coast trail presented itself. Wave-generated sonic booms permeated the forest and grassy bluffs, and I made my way to land's end like a concertgoer drawn to the front of the mosh pit. As I was happily doing my camera thing, one wave huger than most gave me a good soaking. It was quite the show and I stayed there for a fair amount of time until it became obvious the tide was receding and the waves were shrinking. While that was disappointing, at least the hike back to Sunset Bay was less eventful than my morning visit there.

Thimbleberry leaf: I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. O'Neill

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

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Cape Arago

It's Oregon Coast Time, in terms of our hiking itinerary. Gone are those hikes high up in our beloved Cascade Mountains, because rainy weather down in the Umpqua Valley translates to snow in the higher elevations. Therefore, we tend to find ourselves a bit more often on the coast where the weather is generally more conducive to the wonderful avocation of hiking, even though there is an increased probability of getting soaked by rain, buffeted by wind, or crapped on by a seagull. And out of all the destinations on the coast, Cape Arago is definitely one of our favorites because of its relative proximity to Roseburg and the always reliably spectacular scenery.

The ocean was quiet...too quiet

Eons ago, the incredibly rocky and scenic shoreline at Cape Arago was formed when seismic events tilted the sea floor upward around 45 degrees. Nowadays, the resultant inclined sedimentary layers make for some incredible waves when the ocean kamikazes itself upon the rocks at high tide. Much photography ensues when this happens, and not just by me either, the area is quite popular with shutterbugs and hikers alike. Given the awesome ocean wavery in the area, we eagerly dashed up to the top of the forested bluffs overlooking Sunset Bay, fully prepared to be awed by the raging surf. Oops, we were ever so disappointed in the narcoleptically calm ocean, as still as a cat napping on a window sill, even though it was high tide. Heck, we might as well fold up our hiking poles and go home.

The beauty of the Cape Arago coast

The normally restless surf was serene and peaceful but despite that sad failing, the coast nonetheless was quite beautiful. The jagged shore was sticking its many rocky fingers up the ocean's nostrils, figuratively speaking, and the trail followed the serrated shoreline, meaning we went in, out, and around a series of coves and gulches. When the route veered inland and away from the coast, we found ourselves ambling through a green coastal forest full of sprouting fungi and mushrooms.

What do you call a chair with feet?
A toed stool!

Rachel was photographing a mushroom when Dave said "Wow, he looks like a fun guy!". Fun guy? Fungi? Get it? Rachel apparently did because she groaned audibly. I asked her to pick up a couple of fungi specimens, telling her if she did so, she'd be a "woman with loose morels!" Dave and I high-fived each other in congratulatory exultation while Rachel quickly scurried off, refusing to walk any further in our company. Wow, Rachel must have thought she was being pun-ished, but she was correct in her assumption.

Trees, personally invested in the outcome of rising sea levels

One aspect of climate change is rising sea levels and at Shore Acres, there are disturbing signs of the change mankind has wrought. Several times over the years, the trail has had to have been rerouted further inland because the old paths have tumbled into the sea as Oregon crumbles under the relentless maritime onslaught. In some places, they put fences on the old trails to keep hikers out but those fences have likewise tumbled into the sea as the coastline continues to erode. Also, the path sideswipes the old Shore Acres tennis court and now the erosion has eaten away at a corner of the old court. I can remember when not too long ago, it was safely out of reach, dozens of yards away from the ocean and eroding waves.

Tafoni formations at Shore Acres

Over the ages, the waves have exposed a rocky bench sited below the tennis court, uncovering all sorts of phantasmagorical rock formations and an ossified log or two. The formations here have always reminded me of the cemetary scene in a horror movie where zombies emerge from their graves. But today the rock formations did not want to eat my brains (and good luck finding any!) so I scrambled down there to observe and photograph the concretions and tafoni (rock formations that look like Swiss cheese) on the rocky bench.

The woods were full of mushrooms

The observation point at Shore Acres was amazingly still and quiet, both in terms of lack of people and crashing waves. But that's OK, there's nothing wrong with some peace and quiet and we enjoyed both of those things as we ducked into the woods and headed down to Simpson Beach. The woods were full of fungi and maybe a fun guy or two; much of my hiking time was spent lying on my belly on a muddy trail, taking photographs of the fungal splendors on the ground. 

What do you call an amphibian's hammer?
A toad's tool!

As we hiked in turn to the Simpson Reef viewpoint and to Cape Arago itself, the clouds became darker and the wind picked up a little bit. Clearly a storm was coming in so cameras were mostly put away and we hied it quickly down the trail so as to arrive at the trailhead before the sky broke loose. But, I had one more for Rachel. "Hey Rachel, what do you call a place to eat oatmeal!" I just get a blank look and a pair of shrugged shoulders. "A mushroom!" Mush room? Mushroom, get it?" Sheesh, tough crowd, I tell you!

Bad weather is coming

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

Cape Arago Perimeter Trail - club hike

The weekend prior was a mere scouting expedition and this weekend was the real deal. Armed with knowledge gleaned from my information-gathering foray 8 days earlier, I was confidently ready to lead the Friends of the Umpqua onto Cape Arago Perimeter Trail. Just call me a modern day Jedediah Smith! Except Jedediah didn't drive to the trailhead, there was no established trail to follow, and he didn't feel compelled to take pictures of every wave that crashed upon the rugged Oregon shore. But other than that, yeah, I'm a modern day Jedediah Smith alright.

Perimeter newbies (except for Rachel)

Weatherwise, we were between storms so we hiked in dry but blustery weather with a gray cloud cover overhead. Spirits were high as we set out on the forest trail to Shore Acres State Park where we picked up the hard to find Perimeter Trail. From here on in, it would be all new trail for my fellow hikers who (except for Rachel) had never been here before.

Ariel enjoys a downhill section of trail

Because I had taken lots of photos the week before, had written a blog entry about the hike, not to mention a newspaper story about the same hiking experience, I had pretty much decided to take little or no photos and simply concentrate on making sure I didn't lose any hikers along the way. So blah, blah, blah, and I'll refer you to my previous blog posts for more details about about the joys and travails of hiking on the Perimeter Trail.

Jedediah Smith (not!)

After lunch, we dropped down to Cape Arago where we paid a visit to the cape overlook, a coastal delight I had bypassed last weekend. The wind buffeted and cuffed us as we walked on the exposed cape, and if I had any hair, it would have been messed up.

Ooh...aah

From there, the short road walk on the Cape Arago Highway delivered us to the Simpson Reef Overlook, where we took in the sights, sounds, and rank odors of the sea lions hanging out on Shell Island. And then it was back to the trail.

Photogenic surf at Shore Acres

I'd say it was the same old stuff but the coast is always different, that's one of the reasons I enjoy hiking at Cape Arago on a regular basis. Before you could say "spectacular Oregon coast", the camera was out and clicking and I soon found myself well behind everybody else, like usual.

Life on the edge

The clouds were breaking up in the late afternoon and the sun valiantly tried to shine its sunny magic on us Vitamin D deficient seasonal affective disorder sufferers (which has the appropriate acronym of SAD). However, a massive bank of clouds several miles offshore quickly rolled in, blotting out the sun and making us very SAD. But the war between sun and clouds resulted in a bad case of great lighting affective disorder (or GLAD) and much photography ensued from a very slow but GLAD hiking leader.

A storm is coming!

So that was our hike, in a nutshell, I've short-cutted a more engaging description as it was the same old spectacular stuff I wrote about just a week earlier. I bet Jedediah Smith would have done the same.

View to Gregory Point

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

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Cape Arago Perimeter Trail

On occasion I lead hikes for the Friends of the Umpqua Hiking Club. And since the club hikes Cape Arago coastal trail on a weekly basis (or so it seems), I thought I'd change it up a bit by taking the club on a new (for the club) hiking experience. A year or so ago, I'd been exposed to the Perimeter Trail, thanks to my South Coast Strider friends who showed me the route. However, there are several trail intersections on the loop and as I sat on the living room sofa ruminating on the twists and turns of the trail, several questions came to mind: "Was that a left or a right turn on the Pack Trail?" "Left or right on the gravel road?" Clearly, if I wanted to complete the hike with the same amount of hikers I started with, I needed to better familiarize myself with the route. And that is why a week before the scheduled hike, I found myself on the Perimeter Trail with Luna, who came along for some leash training.

The old entrance to Shore Acres Estate

After a short walk through a misty forest on the "short cut" trail to Shore Acres State Park, I followed the park roadway to the Cape Arago Highway. The trail begins on the inland side of the highway and would be impossible to find if one did not know already where the trail was. There is no sign and no obvious trailhead, although someone did tie a pink ribbon to a tree to mark the spot. For some reason, the pink ribbon reminded me of hiking buddy Lane, who may no longer be a buddy after he reads this sentence.

The Perimeter Trail heads uphill

Anyway, after parting the brush and getting on the trail proper, it was a brisk uphill climb along a creek that was totally hidden by the thick jungle that grows in the coastal woods. Ferns and coastal huckleberries were everywhere, the wet fronds making sure my pant legs got wet too. Fallen trees and forest duff were decaying everywhere, thanks to the wet clime.

Eat this and feel curiouser and curiouser!

And thanks to all that decaying biomass, mushrooms of every size, shape, and color were sprouting profusely along the trail, my hiking pace slowing in indirect proportion to numerous mycological delights entertaining the camera. White-dotted red fly agaric was a common sight and I wondered why a toxic and psychoactive mushroom has to look as enticing as an Easter egg or large candy.  Talk about false advertising!

Lichen "flowers"

After a mile or so of brisk climbing, the trail leveled out in an oddly sparse forest comprised mostly of waist high coastal huckleberry bushes and dead trees. Some of the snags showed fire scars, leading me to surmise that a fire had swept through here many years ago. Because of the open terrain, sun-loving reindeer lichen grew in thick patches upon the ground. Also, because of the lack of tree cover, rain pitter-pattered on my hat brim, I hadn't really noticed the rain while hiking underneath the thick forest cover.

A small galaxy of mushrooms

The trail seemingly zig-zagged for no reason but what it was actually doing was following the stair-step boundaries of Cape Arago and Shore Acres State Parks. In particular, what it meant for me was that I had to leave that wonderful level trail and descend down to a creek drainage. What's wrong with that? Well, after reaching the creek drainage, the path then climbed out of the creek drainage. And what's wrong with that? Well, after climbing away from the creek, the trail crested a forested ridge carpeted with emerald green moss, dropping steeply down to another creek crossing. And what's wrong with that? Yup, had to hike uphill away from the creek. Up and down, up and down, that's what happens when the trail follows an squiggly arbitrary line on a map.

Leafless alder trees along a creek

There used to be an old road leading from timber magnate Louis Simpson's Shore Acres estate to Arago Peak. Nowadays, the old road bed does duty as the Arago Pack Trail and the first of three turns (left, for those keeping notes)  was made onto the Pack Trail. The trail was wide and fairly flat as it followed a forested ridge. Moss carpeted the forest floor and you could almost see forest gnomes scampering between the trees. Luna probably wanted to scamper too, but she was hampered by being tethered to her forest gnome of an owner.

Trail through the greenery

After a half-mile or so, the route intersected with the Arago Peak Trail. Not wanting to add 2 or more miles to the hike, I turned away (right) from the peak and toward Cape Arago itself. The trail dropped in a hurry and best of all, the what-goes-down-must-come-up rule did not apply in this case. Luna and I stopped for lunch at the group picnic area and she ate her lunch quickly, followed by most of mine. After a brief rest, made briefer by the arrival of a light rain, we continued down (left turn!) a gravel road to the paved Cape Arago day use area, replete with bathrooms, parking lots, and picnic tables. All the good progress Luna had made with walking without yanking the leash flew away on the ocean breeze due to all those people and dogs in the day use area. So many noses to bump and so many butts to sniff. Dog noses and butts, just to clarify. Luna was the only one of our party doing any sniffing, too, to further clarify.

Not your basic wilderness hike

Well, now that we arrived at the cape, this was all familiar territory to me. A short road walk delivered us to the Simpson Reef overlook where all the barking seals reminded me of our recent election, for some reason. Maybe it was the unintelligible cacophony, or maybe it was the foul stench wafting on the breeze, I'm not really sure. From a hiking standpoint, the reef overlook marked the resumption of actual trail as a dirt path ducked into the coastal forest above the dramatic cliffs that make Cape Arago so special.

The sea at war with itself

It seems like every time I visit Cape Arago, there is a little less of Oregon to hike on, making our new motto "Come and visit Oregon, before it disappears entirely!"  The pace of erosion seems to have accelerated over the last 5 years or so, I suspect rising sea level and climate change to be the culprit. North of Shore Acres, a substantial portion of the trail system has had to be rerouted inland and before long, they are going to have to reroute the trails south of the park as well. 

Shore Acres coast on a gloomy day

But the land meeting the sea provides for some scenic drama as wave after wave dashed against the cliffs and rocky shoals. The tide was fairly low so the waves weren't as thundering as they can be, but the camera was clicking away anyway. The sky was dramatic with swirling clouds competing with sun for control of the sky. The clouds eventually won out. 

Golden glow

The loop route was then closed by several miles of scenic coastline hiking as the day darkened. Cape Arago is always a fun place to hike and that held true for this day as well. And now that I am in total command of all the trail lefts and rights, the day was a total and unqualified success. Plus, Luna was so tired she slept all the way home. Not having your ears licked as you drive also qualifies as an unqualified success. 

Clouds painted the sky

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

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Cape Arago loop

Cape Arago is a great dayhike. The trail is always spectacular, providing cliffy views of the rugged Oregon coast as the path rambles along the rather abrupt edge of Oregon. Periodically, the trail moves away from the cliffs and dips into the lush coastal forest. Given the right time of year, the woods yield plenty of wildflowers, berries, mushrooms, and newts. And no matter the season, the crash of waves upon the rocks is a constant along with the barking of sea lions. Yup, a great hike. But there is one small problem: I've hiked it a million times.

Scenic little cove, below the trail

So what is one erstwhile faded and jaded hiker to do? Why, apply an O'Neill twist to the route, just to keep from getting bored with one of the more scenic hikes on the southern Oregon coast. The latest and greatest change-up was to park the car nearly two miles shy of the customary starting point at Sunset Bay. Hopefully, I'd be able to work my way south to Sunset Bay and in the process, get a good view of the Cape Arago Lighthouse perched on Gregory Point, the point actually being an island. 

Is this a cool trail, or what?

Speaking of goats, you almost have to be one to get down to the beach from the Cape Arago Highway. Yeah, I know, we weren't speaking of goats but that's my segue and I'm sticking to it. A faint and muddy track dropped nearly vertically down to the beach but fortunately, a rope was tied to a tree for us non-goat human beings. Even though I sport no goat genes (that I know of), I still bleated happily on the way down, which either confused or bemused the seagulls.

Rock formations on the beach

Once upon the beach, well, I could hear but not see the lighthouse as a thick boa constrictor of fog strangled the life out of the sunny ocean views. Tortured metaphor aside, visibility was quite limited on the beach and the main attraction (the lighthouse) remained sleeping under the thick foggy blanket. The beach route going south was likewise hidden, so I decided to turn back. No sense hiking down the beach only to find access to Sunset Bay impassable, I'll retry this on a sunnier day where I can better judge the feasibility of the intended route.

Salal

So, back to the car I go and going up the rope was not quite as much fun as coming down, I didn't happily bleat like a goat on the way up. Still in the mood to change up the normal route though, I decided to hike from Sunset Bay to Shore Acres and then take the hidden perimeter trail that I had hiked on once before with the South Coast Striders.

Fern tongue

It had been baking hot (I often use a different adjective, also ending in "king", to better describe the run of hot weather) and it was getting to be so not-funny. It seemed inconceivable that anywhere else outside of Roseburg could be anything but a dry sauna; therefore I was clad in shorts and a tank top. Oops. At Cape Arago, the weather was cold and foggy, the air had a liquidity to it that stopped just short of being actual rain, and me without any raincoat or jacket. Oh well, the exertion of navigating the steep ups and downs of the perimeter trail would hopefully be enough to keep me warm.

Thimbleberry

The tide was well out and the ocean was quiet. There were few hikers encountered on the trail and the mist muffled sound, making for woods peaceful and still. Periodically, the trail ran alongside the Cape Arago Highway and every now and then the odd car slowly passed by, tires hissing on the wet pavement. Ripe salmonberries were there for the picking and the hike was berry nice at times. I have the orange juice stains on my lips to prove it.

Still life with foxglove and aphids

At Shore Acres State Park, I left the coast trail and crossed the Cape Arago Highway. The perimeter trail begins there but you have to know exactly where it is as the trail is unsigned and impossible to see from the road. Displaying the secret South Coast Strider sign, I pushed aside the brush and began hiking uphill on a trail surrounded by blooming rhododendron and foxglove.

Flies waiting...just waiting

A brisk climb took me to the top of the ridge that marks the park boundary and I had basically climbed into the low cloud cover, the woods were now mysteriously misty. In less mysterious fashion, the overhead skein of tree branches sifted the mist and fog, making sure to drip water on one lone hiker improperly attired in shorts and tank top. 

Went down into the ravine and then over the hill...yup

The upper section of the trail has some serious ups and downs as it dropped into and out of several ravines. I got my exercise in and kept plenty warm with the exertion. Whew! On the final pitch downwards, it was really hard to maintain traction on the muddy trail and I had more than a few impromptu ski runs. When I got home, I noticed my boot tread was totally worn, which would explain the slipping and sliding. As an aside, that particular little problem was later remedied on a mid-week excursion to REI, a true Happy Place on Earth.

The Cape Arago Trail provides great views of the coast

On the descent, the trail joined up with the old pack road leading to and from the group day use site and it was nice to not have to worry about sudden and unexpected mud-ski runs. Now at Cape Arago itself, I was back on familiar territory and it was a perfunctory hike back to Sunset Bay as the day darkened. Periodically, I'd work my way to a cliffy viewpoint to see what I could see, which wasn't much.

A bee hugs a sneezeweed flower

Even though I was wet and cold at the end of the hike, I deigned to turn on the car heater. There would be plenty of heat waiting for me in Roseburg and I gladly shivered in the wet air. It felt good to be cold, if even for just one day.

Future blackberry fruit

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

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