North Bank Habitat - Thistle Ridge/North Gate Loop

I'm actually OK with this socially distant hiking, it melds well with my personality. Or maybe I'm confusing "socially distant" with "socially awkward". At any rate, I spend enough time walking in the woods by myself that I really don't have to make any major adjustments to my hiking style other than frantically bailing off the trail in terror when another hiker appears on the trail, accidentally getting within my social nearness boundary. Come to think of it, that's not all that abnormal a hiking behavior for me, either.

Wild iris purpled up the hike

Staying at home these days has been fairly easy as I'm retired and there's always yard work or no work to entertain me. Besides which, Mrs. O'Neill is working from home so there's always company even though that requires me to mimic socially acceptable behavior. But it's a different story for my friend Jay, however. He too is working from home and he's a programmer so it's just him and the computer screen all day long. Apparently, he's getting cabin fever, for he asked if I could take him hiking, socially-distant style. So off to the North Bank Habitat we went (in separate vehicles) and when I picked up a gopher snake slithering across the trail, we became extremely socially distant when he fled screaming for the next time zone to the east.

Panoramal activity

The original plan percolating in my brain was a loop involving the Middle Ridge Road from the western trailhead. However, the trailhead parking lot was full of vehicles so I made a spur of the moment decision to continue to the eastern trailhead. The Habitat's gate was locked of course, and we added our vehicles to the cars parked outside the gate. The developed trailheads are closed these days to prevent cars and people from congregating in the parking lots but all that happens is people congregate at the point of closure anyway, but there we are.

It it's in the North Bank, it goes uphill

Anyway, to avoid coming into contact with would-be virus spreading people-type persons, we grabbed the Thistle Ridge Road instead of taking the well-used gravel road to the Comstock Day Use Area. Immediately, the trail angled uphill and that was Jay's first exposure (from a socially distant distance of ten to fifteen feet behind me) to what is typical hiking in the North Bank. Initially, the scenery wasn't particularly awesome as we hiked under some buzzing power lines but once we left those behind us, it was all good for the rest of the day.

Blazing star blazes away

After a short and rather utilitarian climb away from the power lines, the junction with the Deer Hollow Tie Trail was reached and I was back on familiar territory, seeing as how I had hiked this same trail just several weeks ago. But what a difference a few weeks can make! On this day, the grass was green and lush instead of just sprouting like a couple of weeks ago, and wildflowers were blooming in rampant profusion.

The prettiest evilest leaf ever

Also growing rampantly but not green, were thick patches of poison oak bushes. I tested Jay quickly, because he is a both a hiking and Oregon neophyte, and I'm proud to say my student passed the exam each and every time by correctly pointing out the poison oak when asked. In the sunny patches of trail, which was about 90% of the hike, the leaves were coming out in shades of dark red, burgundy, and sometimes nearly black in color. I generally try to stay away from Satan's favorite shrub but in this case, I made an exception as I was quite struck by the beauty of the oily itch-spreading leaves. Anyway, I got within the plant's personal space to take some photos of the colorful foliage. Normally, I try to stay at least two miles away from the accursed itch disseminating bushes.

Parallel lines

The trail headed uphill across grassy slopes before ducking into a forest on a relatively level trail. Where I had struggled with the muddy track several weeks ago, the trail was now dry and hard-packed, just like me! And after walking out of the forest, it was time to soak in the totally awesome view down to Whistlers Bend.

The view to Whistlers Bend never gets old

Rain and clouds had been an issue on my prior hike but not today. The sky was a deep blue and there were just a handful of small clouds floating in the sky. While the sun was out, the breeze upwelling from the creek valleys kept us cool and the air had that clarity and crispness normally reserved for a clear day in winter. And below the aforementioned deep blue sky, the North Umpqua River idly circled the peninsula of Whistlers Bend. Surrounding farms greened up the valley with pastures, and the terrain was dotted with farm ponds. Just a magnificent scene and we took a short break just to take it all in for a few minutes.

The Thistle Ridge trail goes through a thicket of oak trees

The kind and gentle grade at the overlook soon became just a distant memory, driven out of our thoughts by burning quad muscles as we continually headed uphill on Thistle Ridge first, then Middle Ridge next, both bereft of shade of any sort. Our leg pain was assuaged somewhat by fantastic views of the North Umpqua River and windblown Middle Ridge looming in front of us. The terrain was all covered in grass, which was well-populated with flowering blue-eyed grass which is in fact, yellow-eyed and not actually a grass. Who names these things, anyway?

Ugh!

At the intersection with the North Gate Road, we availed ourselves of the facilities which consisted of just a picnic table and an awesome view. We spent a little bit of time there to eat lunch, rest, and relax. I had a notion of continuing up to the North Boundary Ridge but once we started up yet another steep section of trail, the whining started and not necessarily from Jay, either! No problem, it was still a beautiful day and hike, so we backtracked and headed down the steep North Gate Road.

A gopher snake on the trail and Jay was nowhere to be seen

Wild iris was in bloom all around the trail and as I was photographing several, I noticed a large gopher snake basking in the warm sunlight. Seconds later, the snake was in my hands hissing and showing its teeth and that's how I found out that not only does Jay really not like snakes, he doesn't even like people picking them up either. I also found out his voice could squeal high enough to drop stunned squirrels out of trees. We were able to resume both hiking and our friendship once the snake was returned to its grassy habitat.  

Blue-eyed grass is yellow-eyed and not really a grass

By this time, we were down in Soggy Bottom, which was no longer soggy, and a short walk on the gravel road returned us to our vehicles. Most of the vehicles were gone and despite all the cars parked there in the morning, we only saw only one other hiker all day, a woman out hiking with her children (candidate for Mom of the Year, in my opinion) on Middle Ridge. Generally, most people probably avoid the steep trails and do the easier hikes to either Soggy Bottom or Blacktail Basin. Me, I'll probably keep going on the steeper routes to maintain that social distancing protocol and avoid people like the socially awkward hiker person that I am.

Just a gorgeous day in the North Bank

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

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North Bank Deer Habitat - Soggy Bottom/Blacktail Basin Loop

Normally, when I hike in cold weather, I usually start out somewhat underdressed. The reason is that once hiking commences, the exertion soon gets the old body warmed up. So, if I am nice and warm at the outset, then I'm roasting and sweltering underneath all the layers of outerwear within a few minutes. It's more convenient to start out slightly cold and then warm up to a comfortable stasis and avoid all that having to stop and shed clothing while your comrades leave you behind. But then again, there are days like this hike at the North Bank Habitat, where I had to stop in less than a quarter-mile of hiking and hurriedly put on layers because it was freezing cold and starting out with minimal protection was not one of my better moves.

Squish, squish go the boots

Once I was properly clad with ski cap, mittens, muffler, and a down jacket, the hike continued on in earnest to a broad grassy swale known as Soggy Bottom, which was not named to memorialize that time that I ate too many dried apricots. Soggy Bottom is appropriately named however, because a creek runs through it while every other square inch of soil in the swale seeps ample moisture into the creek. They've been doing some habitat restoration lately and the jeep road that serves as the trail had been all chewed up by ATVs. All that seepage had turned the dirt road into a muddy quagmire of boot-sucking doom and that turned out to be one of the main themes of this hike. Much or most of the nearly eight miles of hiking were spent slogging and sliding through the goo. Periodically, the thick mud would accrue on the underside of my footwear, and I lumbered clumsily forward on boots with six-inch soles of thick clay like some incredibly handsome Frankenstein.

Smile for the camera!

A new livestock gate had been installed over the trail at Soggy Bottom and a sign above an electronic gizmo attached to the gatepost advertised the whole setup was part of a wildlife survey. I assumed the gizmo was a trail camera and one must respect the fine work the wildlife biologists do, so naturally I made funny faces and did my one-footed "running man" pose in front of the presumed camera. As I walked, I pondered the form or format of the survey, imagining a clipboard-toting someone polling wildlife about their political preferences. Preliminary results say hooved creatures are all in for Deernald Trump, bears will throw their weight behind Joe Bear-den, and the mountain lions think all candidates taste equally good.

Mud was a recurring theme on this hike

All trails in the Habitat go uphill, it's just a question of gradient. Because hiking in the mud was pretty tedious, I opted for the route of least resistance. Soggy Bottom Road still goes uphill but not as quickly as some of the other pain-filled trails around here. It's kind of like whether you prefer chiltepin chiles over habaneros. Either way, there is same-day and day-after burning pain involved but it's mostly a question of degree and flavor.

Grand vistas are to be had in the North Bank

As the trail climbed up and away from Soggy Bottom, the higher ridges were hidden in the cloud cover. Great, my hike was going to wind up being both cold and foggy. However, as I gained elevation, so did the clouds and by the time I crested at the intersection with Powerline Road, the cloud cover had lifted off the ridges. That was a good thing because one of the main reasons for laboring up the Habitat's steep trails are the views that reward determined hikers. 

View down Soggy Bottom

Accordingly, the drainages of both Jackson Creek and Soggy Bottom lay well below the trail in all their awesome view glory. Grassy hills, forested ridges, and deep creek valleys rolling all the way to the farmlands surrounding the North Umpqua River. It was enough to make me forget I was cold and tired and I daresay I even felt spritually, if not physically, energized and replenished by the superb vistas from the top. More replenishment took place at Grumpy's Pond where a quick meal was consumed. For some reason, the name Grumpy's Pond reminds me of my ex-wife, not sure exactly why that is.

Grumpy's Pond and no frogs

One little oddity I noticed was that when I was coming up Soggy Bottom Road, the frogs were croaking en masse like some amphibian tabernacle choir in the creek canyons running down the grassy slopes. However, at Grumpy's Pond, where there exists an ample and stable water supply, there was nary a croak to be heard. The water was colored an unappealing gray so that might explain it, or maybe the frogs eschewed the acerbically humored pond for waters that were in a better mood.

A thick stand of oak trees

At a trail junction atop North Boundary Ridge, there are several options for a return loop and I grabbed the most gentle way back, that being the descent through Blacktail Basin. The basin is dotted with oak trees, still leafless this time of year, and poison oak growing underneath effectively discouraged any off-trail exploration. Blue jays squawked in noisy abundance and alder trees, leafless like the oaks, sported thousands of dangling flower tassels in a harbinger of spring.

I got "ticketed"

Once the trail descended into basin, it was several miles of mostly level walking next to Jackson Creek running through an oak savanna. After closing the last gate (and making more funny faces at a wildlife survey camera), I entered the parking lot and noticed a white piece of paper fluttering underneath my windshield wiper. A ticket? Here? Really? What on earth for? There's no fee for parking at the Habitat! Turned out it was a note from friends John and Bill who apparently were also hiking in the North Bank Habitat. "Hey Dude, got mud?" it said. I promptly walked back to the trail gate and held it up in front of the wildlife survey camera. I'm so easily amused sometimes.

How to tell it was a good hike

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

North Bank Habitat (West Loop)

On the last day of 2016. it was time to put this turbulent and strange year to rest and what better way to do that than to go out for a hike in the North Bank Habitat? Of course, 2016 could have been the best year ever and I would have still posed the same rhetorical question. So perhaps, the end of the year is just another irrelevant correlation to hiking, much like how I hike every February 5th to celebrate Shower with a Friend Day. And yes, there really is such a day, just in case you were wondering or maybe if you needed an excuse to shower with a friend at least once a year.  At any rate, the Friends of the Umpqua were hiking in the North Bank and I decided to go along.

Trail on top of the world

Actually, I'd been having a backpacking itch lately but the weather had been extremely wet and not particularly conducive to happy backpacking. I'd almost worked myself up to the point where I'd do it, rain or no rain, and meet everybody on the North Boundary Ridge, but the weather report said snow was coming and the temps were dropping to the mid 20's. Day hiking was looking pretty good after all! I was recounting this to my hiking buddies and Jennifer said "There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes!" To which I replied "Hey, no fair using my quotes against me!"

Nice little glade on the climb up

The dozen or so hikers doing this hike were all donned in various layers of clothing, hats, and gloves designed to keep cold at bay as it was fairly nipply at the start. The trails of the habitat are generally wet and muddy, especially in the lowlands, and today was no exception as we enjoyed a pleasantly level walk along the misnamed Chasm Creek. At the intersection with the Bear Tree Trail, our group split up into two based on the preferred degree of difficulty of the hike. Guess which group I went with!

If you like oaks, then the North Bank is your place!

All that cold chilly morning was soon forgotten as the Bear Tree Trail charged straight up to the top of the North Boundary Ridge. That makes the Bear Tree Trail no different than about 90% of all the other trails in the North Bank, but that's just me whining. At any rate, everybody soon peeled off clothing layers as we chugged up the steep hills of the Habitat.

The upper branches of the Bear Tree

About halfway through the climb, a huge madrone tree known as Bear Tree provided a nice opportunity to admire the size of the orange trunked giant. Also, it was a nice stop to pretend to appreciate the size of the tree while simultaneously catching your breath and letting the pain subside in burning leg muscles.

"Are you guys OK?"

Jeremy tried to get his dog Stella to climb up Bear Tree for a photo but she was having none of it. While we walked 7.8 miles, Stella probably walked 20 miles because she was not steepness-challenged and she'd run up a hill and then run back down to see what was taking us so long. "Humans are so slow" she mused, pondering all the while how humans became the dominant life form on this planet.

Why we hike

As we got up onto the North Boundary Ridge, the leafless oaks thinned out and the views astounded. The North Bank is fairly low-elevation, beginning at 600 feet by the North Umpqua River and topping out at 1900 feet atop Round Timber. But it really feels like you are on top of the world, rivalling Mount Everest in altitude because the grassy slopes drop away from your feet and provide wide and expansive panoramas of river bends, creek valleys, and rolling hills as far as the eye can see. With such a gorgeous view, much photography ensued and Jeremy and I lagged behind as a result.

Bad uphill trail!

Despite reaching the northern ridge of the Habitat, there was plenty of steep trail still to be doled out as the route went up and down and never level on the ridge. All the bad uphill ended (for the most part!) at the 4 mile mark where Middle Ridge intersected with the North Boundary Ridge. Middle Ridge basically bisects the Habitat and would be our route back down to river level.

View to Whistler's Bend

One of the things I enjoy about hiking down Middle Ridge, besides going downhill, is that you hike for several miles staring down at the North Umpqua River glinting in the afternoon sunlight. The river is flanked by pastured farmlands and Whistlers Bend's horseshoe shape is eminently notable. The day was semi-sunny and the leafless oaks were all draped with old man's beard contrasting nicely with a light blue sky. But mostly, it was the downhill aspect to Middle Ridge that gladdened my heart.

Scott Mountain makes a mid-day appearance

After the hike was over, we regrouped at Lois's house where were fed fine pozole and chicken soup. The hike had been a great way to close out 2016 and I could hardly wait until the next hike which would be on January 6th. What better way to celebrate National Bean Day? By the way, National Bean Day is also National Cuddle Up Day but I'm choosing to celebrate National Bean Day because the traditional way of celebrating National Cuddle Up Day generally is not conducive to good hiking.

Trail on the "gentle" and rolling hills of the Habitat

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

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North Bank Habitat - East Boundary Ridge

Well, Mount Ranier Park was fun and all but it was time to say goodbye to the park and all its steep trails. Now that I'm back in Roseburg, it was time to say hello to the North Bank Habitat Management Area and all its steep trails.

Old man's beard graces a madrone tree

The Habitat is an old friend and I hike there quite a bit simply because it is so close to home. It's also a perfect place to hike on a morning when the alarm gets slept through, something that seems to happen with a bit more regularity now that I am retired. However, the North Bank, despite its relatively small acreage and low elevation, provides trails steep enough to do Mount Rainier National Park proud.

I hate hiking!

It is also a possibility that I hike the Habitat because I hate myself. Or at least, that thought occurred to me as I started out on the East Boundary Ridge Road. The freshly graded jeep road was the trail and without preamble, the route charged straight up a grassy hillside with virtually no shade. The tone was set in the first mile, when the trail gained 800 feet of elevation. From there, it was only about 500 feet more of climbing over 3 miles but who cares after legs are totally used up in that nasty first mile?

The snake wonders why I'm making that strange sound

When lacing up my boots at the trailhead, I had chatted with Mark, the Habitat's caretaker, and he warned me to be on the lookout for rattlesnakes as they had been unusually plentiful this year. Because the trail was ungodly steep, I felt compelled for some reason to stop and take a breather and also to take a few pictures of the valley below the trail. As I turned to resume hiking, I suddenly noticed a snake sunning itself a few inches from my foot. If a hiker screams a high-pitched girly yodel and nobody is there to hear him, he does not make a sound. Its nap disturbed by a high-octave hiker's wail that sounded like it might have come from another galaxy, the harmless gopher snake slithered off into the dry grass.

Ah, this is why we hike!

I rarely hike the the Habitat in the summer, I generally visit in winter or early spring. On this day, the hills were neither white with snow, nor green with sprouting thistles. Instead, the hills were golden brown with dried grass swaying in the breeze gently blowing over the ridge crest. A late summer hike was somewhat on the exotic side for me, seeing as how I was hiking there out of my normal Habitat season. The sun was out, the slightly hazy sky was cloudless, and fortunately the temperature was not particularly hot, especially with a cool breeze washing up from the valleys.

My route on the East Boundary Ridge

After a steady uphill with occasional really steep pitches, the North Boundary Ridge Road was reached. That was fine and all, but there still was about a mile of some of that nasty uphill stuff yet to go. While trudging up the steep North and East Boundary Ridge(s), I did wonder what it was about hiking that makes me think I enjoy it. My leg muscles were burning, my heart was hammering its way out of my rib cage, my eyes were stinging from a combination of sweat and sunscreen rolling into them, and I was breathing heavier than an asthmatic water buffalo. Why, oh, why do I hike?

Scott Mountain 

Well, from the North Boundary Ridge, it was quite the view, thanks to all that elevation gain I'd been whining and sniveling about. I was looking down the East Fork Jackson Creek valley, with the small creek running into the North Umpqua River, a small piece of which was just visible. In the river's valley, farms flanked either side and rolling hills marched on and on into the distance. On the other side of the ridge, the forests sloped down towards the town of Sutherlin with Plat I Reservoir showing a small corner of itself. Buzzards floated and circled above me and I wondered with more than a little concern what they knew that I didn't. At any rate, the wide and expansive panorama hammered home exactly why I hike. Even though I've seen this vista many times, it never gets old and after an appreciative view soak, I actually felt rejuvenated in both body and spririt.

BEAR!!

Hah! I'm pretty brave saying I felt rejuvenated when the trail was all downhill from the Blacktail Basin Road junction, but downhill can rejuvenate as much as a great view and I had the best of both worlds on the descent. The Soggy Bottoms Road headed gently down into the West Fork Jackson Creek valley on a jeep track dotted with bear poop. I'd run into a "rattlesnake" already so maybe I'd run into a bear. Naturally, I just about pooped my pants when a wall of black fur crossed the trail about 50 yards in front of me. BEAR! Well, on closer inspection it was not really a bear but a black cow who took off in terror upon hearing unnatural noises emanating from one startled hiker.

The North Bank throws some shade

As the trail dropped into the valley, big-leaf maples arched over the trail, providing welcome shade as I ambled through a park-like glade of stately oak and maple trees. Mount Rainier has nothing over the North Bank's steep trails (unless you consider the totally awesome scenery and the big glacier-clad volcano thingy). And despite all the mumbling, grumbling, whining, sobbing, and the occasional squealing screams of terror, it's good to hike!

It's good to hike!

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