Mildred Kanipe Park

Well, it can't all be hiking, boys and girls, gotta take care of business sometime. And on a Friday morning Luna and I drove around, performing errands, shopping, and doing other non-fun non-hiking activities. But since we only used up the morning and a small part of the afternoon, we both decided to sneak in a short hike in Mildred Kanipe Park on a sultry and overcast day. In an amazing coincidence, in the back of the Jeep were my hiking boots, poles, and daypack...now how did all that stuff get in there?

View to English Settlement

Luna seemed to understand the peacocks at the trailhead were off limits, so as a reward. she got to hike off leash once we were out of sight of the beautiful hooting, but dog-tempting, birds. The park has 7 loop trails that are named, but in between the 7 loops, a spider web of smaller, unnamed trails connect them all. We grabbed one such trail and immediately charged uphill to join up with the Oak Savannah Trail. The Oak Savannah Trail is both appropriately and inappropriately named.

Oaks, both poison and benign varieties

Yes, the trail undulates through grassy savannahs dotted with regal and stately oaks, newly leafed out against a (on this day, at least) gray sky. The trail also undulates through grassy savannahs where the "other oak" grows in overwhelming profusion. I, of course, am referring to poison oak, Satan's favorite plant. There I was in shorts, too, with copious fronds of the progenitor of itchy rashes waving across the trail, caressing my exposed legs with malevolent tenderness. I could almost hear the snarky laughter of the poison oak gods every time a poison oak plant swiped one or both of my legs. However, I am glad to report that somehow, I did avoid getting a rash, apparently I was under the benevolent protection of the Great God of Technu.

Guardian of an oxeye daisy

Spring was in full song and the grassy slopes were abloom with white hyacinth, ookow, self-heal, wild iris, and wild rose, just to namedrop a few. Oxeye daisies grew close together, turning slopes and meadows white. I found some blackberry bushes blooming an uncharacteristic pink color and elegant brodiaea elegantly lived up to its elegant name.

Luna leads the way

As the Oak Savannah Trail descended gently through rolling grassy swales dotted with stately oaks, we grabbed the Fern Forest Trail to add a little more distance to a short hike. The trail dropped quickly through a lush forest carpeted with ferns and poison oak, but mostly poison oak. The path was muddy and treacherously slippery and I daresay I tripoded it a couple of times, silently praying as I headed earthward that I would not land in the poison oak bushes flanking the trail. Luna didn't care, she had no mud-sliding issues, plus she'd gladly romp off trail in the poison oak entirely of her own volition if I'd let her do such a thing.

Pink blackberry blossoms

Once out of the forest and into the meadowy bottom lands we made a side-trip to Bachelor Creek for the sole purpose of affording Luna the opportunity to splash and frolic in the water. While she cavorted, I took lots of pictures of wild roses and pink blackberry blossoms. We each play in our own singular fashion.

Trail through the poison oak jungle

From Bachelor Creek, the loop hike was closed off by hiking on a combination of footpaths and gravel roads through some more of the parklike oak savannahs and poison oak. Poison oak is such an evil and highly adaptable plant. I saw it sprawled on the ground in a thick ivy-like ground cover, in dense upright bushes four feet high, and even vining to the top of an 80 foot tree! There is no stopping that accursed itch-spawning plant!

A peacock performs, ever hopeful of receiving a treat

Back at the parking lot, peacocks came by to mooch handouts, displaying their ample feathery foliage as an enticement. Leashed to the car Luna could only think about chasing them while I took pictures freely. All in all, a nice way to reward ourselves for a job well done running errands.

Ben More Mountain rises above the trail

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

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Mildred Kanipe Park

Sometimes you just have to be in the mood to hike in the rain. I haven't and since it's been raining for the last 19 months or so, I just haven't gotten out on the trail all that much lately. But the lack of hiking will become a medical emergency soon, so despite the gloomy weather forecast, I went hiking in Mildred Kanipe Park with the Friends of the Umpqua. Yup, it was cold and wet but nonetheless it felt good to tromp about on the muddy trails in the park.

Lichen forest

I've hiked in Kanipe Park on two other occasions and in both instances it had been a beautiful spring day. The stately oaks of the park were then leafed out and the grassy slopes were alive with the vibrancy of blooming wildflowers. Of course, now in the middle of winter the sky was gray and dumping water on our heads, there were no flowers, and the oak leaves were still hibernating. Nonetheless, the park still sports a different kind of beauty on a gray day and remains a worthy hiking destination, no matter the season.

Sploosh, sploosh!

Mildred Kanipe Park is a former ranch and many of the trails are on ranch roads. One such road led away from the hooting peacocks in the parking lot and it was immediately obvious that mud was going to be one of the themes of this hike. With all the rain we've been having (southern Oregon had been issued a flood warning on this day) the ground was waterlogged and the grassy pastures in the lowlands were all under an inch or two of standing water. Sploosh, sploosh, boots were in for some serious abuse as we hiked.

Muddy trail through the oaks

After a short road walk, we turned right on a real trail and the path angled steadily uphill through an oak savanna. The scrawny trees were all leafless and old man's beard hung off of everything, The trail did double duty as a creek as we splashed our way up the slope.

Oak silhouette

After coming out of the spindly oak grove onto an open grassy slope, the trail continued its mad charge uphill through larger and more stately oaks. The silhouettes against the gray sky kept my camera busy. It felt good to be out on the trail, uphill hiking notwithstanding, and I flew up the path in spite of all the picture taking.

Fern Forest

Once we topped out at the boundary fence, it was (for the time being) all downhill as we hiked through Fern Woods. This forest had been a source of some contention several years ago as there had been a vigorous debate about logging the forest to help pay for the upkeep of the park. The Friends of Kanipe Park were able to raise enough money to keep the forest intact and it was much more pleasant to descend through dense clumps of ferns underneath fir trees instead of hiking past stumps in a clear cut. 

Feet, shins, and knees got wet on this hike

Once out of the trees, the trail ambled next to Bachelor Creek and the rain started pretty much as we left Fern Woods. A creek was running across the trail and my hiking mates bushwhacked up the creek looking for a way to cross the creek dry-footed. Well, that seemed a little prissy for my tastes so I just waded across and the water nearly came up to my knees. 

Bachelor Creek

Bachelor Creek was running deep and muddy and we were grateful for the footbridge across the fast moving stream. None of us was ready to pack it in just yet, so we headed up the Underwood Hill Trail. First gravel road then muddy track, the trail headed gently up through the woods. Then the up was not so gentle as it angled straight up without even a pretense of a switchback. We were cold, wet, out of breath, and leg muscles were burning: was this a great hike or what?  At the top of the hill, a recuperative rest and a standing lunch restored dampened spirits as the rain abated somewhat.

Walking down the aisle

This 6-miler was closed out by dropping down a steep and muddy deer path that we were grateful not to be hiking up in the opposite direction. The slippery track claimed only one hiker (that I know of) who took a harmless but undignified spill on the way down. A return to the sploosh-sploosh of the low pastures brought us back to the hooting peacocks at the parking lot. This hike fit my mood perfectly and staved off for the time being any potential medical emergency due to lack of hiking.

Old man's beard

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

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Mildred Kanipe Park

It's happened to all of us. You bump into an old friend, one you haven't seen in a while, and the friend begins to talk to you about a new found religion, eyes burning with the crazed zeal of a true believer as you silently cross him or her off the Christmas card list. Well, it happened to me recently, with more than one friend announcing they have become a Kanipian, joining the church of Our Lady Mildred of the Sacred Park. Probably, a picture of a haloed and beatific looking Mildred Kanipe hangs in their respective living rooms. Being an open-minded heretic, I just had to visit Mildred Kanipe Memorial Park and see for myself what all the wild-eyed proselytizing was all about.

                

Here's my butt dance, now will you marry me?

My first impression of the park had more to do with peacocks than with hiking. These magnificent birds, feathered in iridescent and metallic blues and greens, ambled through the parking lot, either greeting hikers or asking for handouts, or maybe all of the above. As I was lacing up my boots, a group of peahens sashayed down the road, setting off a chorus of loud hoots from all the males gathered nearby. As the gals neared, the peacocks in turn displayed their magnificent plumage and then showed their backsides to the females while executing a stiff legged butt dance with little mincing steps. Presumably, the best plumage, loudest hoot, and the tightest little butt dance results in a happy mating. Similar mating rituals take place every Friday night in neighborhood taverns throughout the country but let's leave that alone and go hiking instead.

Trail through an oak glade

For my readers not from this area, Mildred Kanipe Park has been in the news a lot this year. Due to a lack of funds, the Douglas County Commissioners decreed that all county parks had to pay their own way, so to speak. The original plan for Kanipe Park was to log a stand of firs in the park, but within the Kanipian community that idea was about a welcome as a fart in church. The eventual solution was to instead construct a campground with the stipulation being that the Friends of Mildred Kanipe Memorial Park had to raise the necessary funds for the campground construction. I'm glad to report that just several days ago, the monetary goal was attained.

Elegant cat's ear

Anyway, while several of my hiking friends had gotten religion about the park, the sad fact was I really didn't know that much about it. Since I had half a day to kill on Easter Sunday, the nearness of the park made for a convenient hiking quickie. And, since it was Easter, I had the entire park to myself as apparently I am the only person in all of Douglas County that hikes on holidays.

View from a small hill

Shortly after crossing an orchard and cow pasture, the trail headed straight up a hill, my punishment for sacrilegiously hiking on a religious holiday. A nice view of the flat lands of English Settlement and the rolling foothills surrounding the quaint and historical town of Oakland was enjoyed. Tall oak trees dotted the grassy slopes alongside the trail under a blue sky that got bluer as the morning mist burned off.

One of 764,289 oak tree pictures taken on the day

The oaks were just leafing out on a beautiful spring day but there were a couple of downers just off trail. One was English hawthorn, an invasive plant imported from England, of course. The meadows were dotted with the thorny bush which has a nasty habit of turning into a tree that makes many little thorny babies.  Piles of dead hawthorn showed where park volunteers attempted to eradicate the unwelcome invader from Europe like Aztecs fighting Spaniards, and probably with the same degree of success, too.

Get thee away, poison oak!

The other blot on this fine Kanipey day was poison oak. The stuff was growing everywhere and the new leaves colored bright red would have been very attractive were it not for the not so wonderful itch factor. I noticed there were no piles of dead poison oak probably because the rash-making plant is a native worthy of preservation and probably because nobody with at least half a brain cell volunteers for the poison oak work crew. I was wearing shorts and with all the fronds reaching for my bare legs, I gladly accepted the one dime-sized rash on my arm. It could easily have been worse!

Shooting star

At any rate, the trail climbed up a grassy ridge and through marvelously shaded oak glades. Life was good as the path wove its way through the trees and I didn't even mind the numerous evil deer spotted in the woods along the trail. Random thought: Why don't deer get poison oak rash? After topping out on a wooded ridge, the trail dropped down and intersected with the Fern Woods Trail, colored bright purple on my map.

A religious moment in the Kanipe church

The trail had several mudholes that got my boots mad at me but we soon left the mud behind as we climbed up into the woods that were the source of the political tempest.  The forest was comprised of fir with a rich understory of ferns and salal. Sunlight slanted through the branches and songbirds twittered melodically in the shrubbery. This is a special place and mellowness crept into my soul and I nearly became a Kanipian until the coarse cawing of crows disrupted the moment. It was then that I noticed all the poison oak vining up the trees and I became a hawkish proponent of logging the forest, provided they take the poison oak with them.

Curlicues

But I kid of course, the park is indeed a special place and worthy of preservation. But I stop short at hanging a picture of a haloed Mildred Kanipe in my living room although I may keep the butt dance.

Thank you!

For more pictures of this wonderful little park, stop by and visit the Flickr album.

Nice clothes!

   

                

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