Bolt Mountain

The hiking club was going on a hike to the summit of Bolt Mountain but instead of bolting out of bed (see what I did there?) to join them, I slapped the alarm into submission and returned to a blissful embrace in the arms of Morpheus (meaning I went back to sleep). Afterward, the rest of the day was spent wading in a sad little koi pond of regret, for I had missed an opportunity to get onto a trail on which I'd never been. But while I couldn't undo not hiking with my friends, I could do something about not ever hiking to the Bolt Mountain summit.

A piece of Bolt Mountain looms at the trailhead

A couple of days later on a chilly but sunlit morn at the Fish Hatchery Park trailhead it was only me and the mountain, just a nut and Bolt on a fine day for hiking. Whereas my friends had spent their day hiking in fog, I walked under a clear blue sky and enjoyed great views of the surrounding countryside all hike long. Serendipity! See, I must have known what I was doing when I decided to sleep in!

A forest reflects in a slow moving creek

The trail initially descended on an old road bed through some pleasant woods with trees mostly stark and bare. Oak leaves still sported some of their autumn finery as I scuffed along on a path covered in maple leaves long since dropped from the trees. At a rock-hop crossing of a barely trickling creek, the trail then angled uphill and there'd be no more downhill hiking until the return from the summit.

Still some autumn going on, thanks to the oaks

The trail was well-manicured and groomed for the most part, although the rocky tread did impart an element of roughness to the path. It would be about 1,200 feet of elevation gain and while the trail was uphill the whole way, the grade was mild and not particularly daunting. Occasional open spots in the forest provided ever expansive views of pastoral farmlands surrounding the nearby Applegate River.

The trail angles up through a thin stand of Jeffery Pine

Per the BLM's Bolt Mountain brochure, the soils here are comprised of serpentine, a nutrient-poor mineral that is endemic to the Siskiyous. Accordingly, the woods were comprised of hardier species such as madrone, oak, cedar, and Jefferey pine. On the sunny side of the mountain in particular, the stands of Jeffrey pine were sparse and the slopes covered with only dry grass underneath.

Madrone berries collect some morning dew

Smooth, orange-trunked madrone trees were found all over, happy to thrive in the drier conditions found on the mountain. While madrones are evergreen and as a result, non-participants in the autumn festival of color, this time of year they are heavily laden with grape-like bunches of red fruits as if they were already celebrating the upcoming Christmas season.

Please O sun gods, send sunlight to warm my cockles!

For the first half of the uphill hike, the trail had inscribed a back-and-forth route up the south-facing slope of Bolt Mountain. Eventually the trail rounded the north-facing side and commenced a spiral route to the summit. The north side was shady and the temperature dropped noticeably, sending me into a frantic rummage through my pack in search of a jacket. A nearby madrone giant sent up two large trunks that resembled arms raised to the heavens, as if desperately beseeching the sun gods to send some warm sunlight its way. I too may have done some similar beseeching of my own at that point.

Who says there's no view from the summit?

The trail returned to the wonderful world of sunlight with one last push to the summit. The mountaintop itself was not much to look at, just a bare spot ringed by thorny ceanothus bushes and stunted cedar trees. However, the hike up Bolt Mountain is all about the view anyway and the unassuming summit delivered on that end. Bolt Mountain is surrounded by much taller mountains rising above the river valleys and farmlands, and all are eminently visible from the peak. Grants Pass lay in its valley floor below with the mountains and canyons of the Rogue River extending beyond the city. Clouds clung to nearby high ridges while the sky was mostly blue around Bolt Mountain itself. It was a huge payoff for relatively little work.

Ants have hairy butts

All good things come to an end and sometimes those ends are followed by some more good things. The easy descent down to the trailhead afforded me the opportunity to play around with my macro lens which is something one can do when not having to keep up with friends. Accordingly, much up-close lichen, fungi, and ant photos were taken and thanks to the awesome power of the macro lens, I now know ants have hairy butts. By now, the morning had morphed into early afternoon and winter shadows lengthened underneath the trees which in turn led to the macro lens coming off and going back on with some frequency.

Christmas tree, Bolt Mountain style

Alas, all the hiking fun came to a close upon arrival at the trailhead, and I was quite pleased with my first Bolt Mountain experience. In perusing a trail map post-hike I noticed there is (allegedly) another trail accessing Bolt Mountain beginning from Stringer Gap. Funny, I didn't really notice another trail intersecting today's route to Bolt Mountain but hey, I think I just found another reason to come back. Unlike my friends, I'll just make sure not to do it on a foggy day. 

Sunlight illuminates a madrone leaf

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

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Cathedral Hills

What a difference a few months can make! I had first visited Cathedral Hills in late December and the paths were frosted with ice and the woods were mostly brown. Despite those failings, I had been impressed enough with the park that I volunteered to lead a Friends of the Umpqua outing there and about 20 of us set out from the Sky Crest Trailhead. Within a few yards into this hike, a veritable army of showy and ornate red Indian Warrior wildflower plumes were marching into battle to champion the cause of turning green forests red. Clearly, this spring hike would in no way resemble my comparatively drab December foray.

Indian Warriors wins "Best Wildflower in Show"

I'm not sure how a vibrantly colored plume of a wildflower became known as Indian Warrior but it's a more intriguing moniker than pedicularis densiflora, its scientific name. The warriors grow a foot or so high and are parasitic when convenient, usually in the presence of manzanita or madrone. Just like some children, the plants are perfectly capable of living on their own but will parasitize when given the opportunity. In this case, the opportunity presenting itself is when the aforementioned manzanita and madrone root systems are nearby and readily available to be tapped into by the Indian Warriors. If it seems like I've done some undue research on these remarkable plants, it's because I'd never seen them before until I spotted my first specimen about two inches into the hike.

Elegant cat's ear

Even without the eye-catching Indian Warriors, this would have been a good wildflower hike. The terrain was dotted with thin stands of madrone, oak, manzanita, and assorted conifer trees. The vegetation underneath the trees was grassy and green, with wildflowers adding some additional colors to the rampant greenery. Bright magenta-colored shooting stars were displaying their floral pyrotechnics, aided and abetted by small fawn lilies of some sort. California red bells were a thing, and so were dark purple larkspurs to go along with all the other usual springtime suspects.

Trail through oaks either benign or poison

While the wildflowers and spring greenery would have made this a great hike even in poor weather, we enjoyed the extra luxury of hiking on a superb spring day. The sky was colored a deep blue, the air was crisp and clear, and the temperature was mild and perfect for hiking in. The bright sunlight accentuated the virtual rainbow along the trail, ranging from orange-trunked madrones, burgundy-limbed manzanita, bright green oak leaves just leafing out, and the floral rainbow dominated by the scarlet Indian Warriors. There was some reddery to counterpoint the greenery unfortunately, and I refer to the oily red new leaves of poison oak, which was everywhere. Fortunately the wide and well-groomed trails kept the evil itch-spawning plant at bay.

Brought them all back, too!

As leader in charge of this hike and the only one of twenty Friends of the Umpqua members with any knowledge of Cathedral Hills Park, it was incumbent on me not to misplace any of our hikers, an easy thing to do given the plethora of trails and intersections thereof. I'm going to give myself a well-deserved pat on the back here, for having the wisdom and foresight to supply all participants with a map and cue sheet. That way, all the speedier hikers could go on at their own pace while we laggards lagged behind at our own laggardly "speed". I'm glad to report that due to and under my awesome leadership, nobody got lost.

Trail on a wooded ridge crest

Basically our route, beginning at Sky Crest Trailhead, contoured around the east side of the park, dropping down to popular and busy Espy Trailhead. After eating lunch at the ruins of some old structure overgrown by vegetation, we tackled the lone uphill portion of this hike, heading up to the aptly named Sky Crest Trailhead. Here the Outback Loop traces a route atop a ridge photogenically wooded with tall manzanita bushes and scraggly oak trees. Brief openings in the manzanita and trees provided vistas of nearby Peak 3792 and the distant mountain ranges escorting the Rogue River to the sea.

California ground cones were common
only in one spot (that we noticed)

As we crested the high point of the hike, Diane noticed a ground cone blooming underneath a stand of madrone trees. And then we noticed another and another and another, and so on and so forth. There literally hundreds of them, looking like, well, looking like pine cones on the ground, which would be quite the trick for the non-coniferous madrones. Ground cones do not have chlorophyll, so they parasitically attach themselves to the root systems of madrone trees, just like the plentiful Indian Warriors. With so much leeching and grifting off the madrones taking place, it's a wonder that they thrive as they do.

Macro lenses make tiny baby stars look
much larger than they really are

This was the first time that any of my companions had ever hiked at Cathedral Hills and all were duly impressed, with several telling me that they'd have to make this a regular spring destination. Despite the accolades, my tip jar still remained empty but to be honest, enjoying a superb woodland hike with good friends was payment enough!

Shadows play upon the trail

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

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Rainie Falls

It's February already, yet this is only my second hike of 2021. At this rate, I'm on pace to wind up with 48 miles on 12 hikes this year. I'd hiked so little recently my knees were oxidizing and in sore need of some life-giving hiking oil. Accordingly, younger brother Don and I set up a hike at Takelma Gorge but snowy weather caused us to postpone that little venture for a later date. The Rogue River was nearby though, and situated below snowy weather elevation, thereby making the Rogue our impromptu Plan B. And because I felt as rusted over as the Tin Man, Rainie Falls was chosen simply because it was not as rigorous as the up-and-down Rogue River Trail on the opposite side of the river from the Rainie Falls Trail.

    

A cold day all around

Despite being shorter though, the Rainie Falls Trail is a lot more rugged. The trail is crudely chiseled into cliff faces above the river and the tread is rough and rocky in a lot of places, rendering both of our inner mountain goats ecstatic. Although we'd get neither snow nor rain on this day, it was frosty cold and was all that was needed for actual snowfall was just some precipitation. The surrounding mountains disappeared into a low cloud cover on a gray day and no doubt the mountains did have snow higher up.

Numerous seasonal creeks ran across the trail

It was readily made apparent that this hike would be all about water. Of course, the rain-swollen Rogue River coursed below the trail and was eminently visible for virtually the entire hike. But weeks of rain and snow created new creeks and runoffs while replenishing and rejuvenating old ones. Don likes to take videos and I like to photograph, so we basically hiked in same style, which consisted of frequent stops to take photos or videos or all of the above.

Not the smoothest trail in the world

There was a duality to this hike in that the time and miles were equally split between trail etched into exposed rocky cliffs and lush forest green and vibrant; one or the other with no in-between. The forest was that odd Siskiyou mix we know and love, being comprised of strange tree-fellows madrone, myrtlewood, cedar, oak, and fir. Don and I crumpled up myrtlewood leaves between our fingers, enjoying the sweet intoxicating aroma emanating from the bruised leaves.

Don hikes through the ferns and Oregon myrtle

A fellow Pacific Northwest nature geek once admonished me "Do NOT call it bay laurel, it is Oregon myrtle!" Yes sir, and I dutifully obeyed so as not to be unfriended or written out of the will. However, if you look up "Oregon myrtle", you will find it also called "California bay laurel" and please don't hit me. All this discussion of laurel vs. myrtlewood is because Don speculated myrtlewood is a true bay laurel endemic to northern California and southern Oregon. That sent me to some online research where I found out: a) it is not a true laurel although the fragrant leaves smell as such and b) the range is the entire California coast and about half of the Oregon coast and c) I am the smarter and better looking brother.

Some madrone orangery among all the greenery

We had a similar discussion about the range of madrone, he thought it was likewise limited to Oregon and northern California. Actually, madrone can be found the world over but our particular madrone species, the Pacific madrone, grows only on the west coast from San Diego to the Vancouver Island area in British Columbia. Good thing Don and I did not discuss any other species of flora or fauna because otherwise I'd still be immersed in this research project, but I spare no effort to prove to my readers that I am always right. 

Good thing the river gods aren't hungry

This time of year, the winter rains and snows fill up the Rogue River and naturally, the river was silty, fast, and wide. The extra water just overwhelms Rainie Falls, making it seem more like a watery speed bump for the rafting and kayaking crowd instead of the feared river obstacle it is. However, the strong and powerful current is still plenty capable of chewing up careless boaters and spitting out the husks like so many used-up sunflower seed hulls. The inherent danger didn't necessarily stop us from standing right at the edge but on the other hand, we both have cool photos and videos of the falls. Maybe neither one of us is the smarter brother.

It was cliffy and we liked it

After a nice little lollygag, it was back the way we came and we got to experience the awesome Rogue River Scenery all over again. The ponderous bulk of the greenish-brown river flowed in the bottom of its canyon and we observed many creeks waterfalling down the mountainsides before splashing into or onto the river. This was Don's first visit to the Rogue River and much like all newbies I have brought here in years past, he was reliably awed. Mission accomplished, especially since I didn't hurt any more body parts on the hike, which is something you say when you are the older brother.

Don saw the Rogue River, and
he smiled and said it was good

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

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Cathedral Hills

Cathedral Hills is another one of those places that I'd never been to because of a preconceived notion the hikes are too short to justify the drive from Roseburg. However, a friend recently made mention of the Cathedral Hills trail system and with the idea of hiking there now placed irrevocably onto the part of my cerebral cortex that warehouses possible hiking destinations, the distinct possibility of hiking there had to be considered. Besides which, any place with the word "Hills" in it will always stand a chance.

It was a bit chilly at the outset

It turned out that stepson Carl and family had just moved into a place literally just down the hill from the Sky Crest Trailhead so I made a surprise swoop to see the new digs and to temporarily free grandson Liam from the stultifying constricts of parental dictatorship via the escape route of hiking with Grandpa. Didn't need to ask him twice!

Madrone trees were very much a thing on this hike

There are several trailheads with which to access Cathedral Hills but we chose Sky Crest Trailhead solely because it was just up the hill from Liam's house. There were only a few cars in the trailhead parking lot when we arrived and in this age of Covid, that's a good thing. 

A frozen web, ready to snare frozen flies

It was downright chilly at the start and the surrounding vegetation was lightly frosted like an old dude's unshaven chin. But hey, trails heading uphill are made for warming up cold hikers and the heat generated by the exercise kept some of the chill at bay. Thick woods comprised of scrawny madrones and dense patches of manzanita bushes flanked the track as it gained elevation. Periodically, the vegetation and forest cover opened up, affording views of nothing but gray, for the low cloud cover hid from sight any vistas that otherwise would have been enjoyed by the two of us.

A burl mars an otherwise perfectly smooth madrone trunk

A good map is essential because this relatively small park presents a myriad of trail options that intersect each other with great rapidity when hiking. The BLM website has a downloadable pdf map which was an invaluable asset in negotiating the trail system so as to arrive back at the car. Don't you just hate it when you can't find your car at the end of a hike? Hasn't happened to me yet, but then again I usually carry a map when I hike and strongly urge all hikers to do likewise.

Frosted pine trees were the only view we had today

Our route was a loop hike on the Skycrest Trail, Outback Loop, Hogback Trail, Cloverlawn Loop, Backside Loop, Outback Loop (again!), Ponderosa Pine Trail, Outback Loop (redux), Bowl Trail, Upper Hogback Trail, Outback Loop (a repeat customer!), and finally, the Skycrest Trail (Round 2). Now you see why a map is essential and even though we had one, we still got "misplaced" for a bit. I'd blame the navigator but that would mean taking personal responsibility for my own actions, so I'll just falsely accuse Liam instead.

Lichen finds a purchase on a smooth manzanita trunk

The route crested at the intersection of the Skycrest Trail and Outback Loop and from there it was a steady descent toward the general direction of busy Espy Road Trailhead. Most of the hike was spent in easy companionship chit-chatting about life in general and I was grateful for the quality time spent with Liam today. Virtually all of the descent was also spent surrounded by madrone, oak, and manzanita. Not to mention, there were also some poison oak bushes flanking the paths, even though I just mentioned it.

Easiest!

Most difficult!

The lower part of our route was a combination of the Outback Loop and Backside Loop that basically hugged the southwestern corner of the park. Several trails branched off to the right, each one of those trails being belligerent tests of manhood that charged madly up wooded ridges with nary a pretense of switchback or any other modern invention designed to ease the grade. Naturally, we namby-pambies stayed to the left at all junctions. For a little more mileage we grabbed the Ponderosa Pine Trail after being asked for directions by a random hiker, like we would know anything about this park on our first visit! But we were reading our map at the time, and that made us more knowledgeable than the hapless mapless fellow asking us for directions.

Setting for the "Witches of Cathedral Hills" movie

Somewhere on the Ponderosa Pine Trail, I missed an intersection on the map (but not on the ground) while monitoring our progress. So, while we were actually on track the whole way, I, the trail, and the map were now all out of sync with each other. Navigationally, it was obvious we were heading in the correct direction so we continued walking in the expectation that we'd soon figure it all out soon enough. In essence, we were following the return leg of the Outback Loop which consisted of a picturesque trail on a ridge crest wooded with usual suspects madrone, manzanita, and leafless oak.  

Liam patiently waits while Grandpa checks the map YET AGAIN!

This part of the hike was the only real sustained uphill stretch of trail but no complaining allowed for the trail was quite photogenic as it wandered through the manzanita and other hardwood trees. The vegetation was sparser here than in the lower woodlands, so we got to see cloud cover hiding the vistas from sight all over again. I imagine that on a sunny day, there'd be some views to partake of. Both of us enjoyed our first Cathedral Hills experience, it's a good early season hiking option and I'll have to drag my friends here at some point in the near future. Stay tuned!

Moss slowly and inevitably claims a tree

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

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Rogue River Trail 2/2020

The Rogue River Trail is like an old friend that I visit several times a year to reminisce and share stories with, but without the all the drinking of whiskey and spitting of tobacco from the front porch. I've long ago lost count of how many times I've hiked this trail but each and every time out, the same old scenery is different in some way, shape, or form, never failing to provide a day's worth of enjoyment. That's why I hike this trail over and over again so it should come as no surprise that on a chill February day, four old hikers (some older than others) set out on the Rogue River Trail to visit our perennial friend for alt least the 3,072nd time, but who's counting?

Crystal clear pool on a seasonal creek

Despite the comfortable familiarity of the route, the hike is different every time out (I know, I'm repeating myself, aren't I?). Today's exercise in differentness was the sun and shade. The planet and earth had aligned just so, leaving the river canyon in deep and dark shade despite it being a sunny day in general. Every time the high ridges and mountains prevented the sun from reaching the river flowing in its deep canyon, the temperature dropped, chilling noses, ears, fingers, and any other unprotected body parts. 

From light unto dark

The river zigs and zags on its quest to become one with the ocean and every time the trail rounded a bend, the sun emerged from its blocked-by-mountains purgatory to bathe us in unseasonably warm sunlight. Eventually, I gave up trying to put on or remove layers to get warmer, colder, or just righter, settling instead on hiking in short sleeves and just putting up with shivering in the shade until the sun came out from behind the high ridges.

Saxifrage graced moist cliffs

The Rogue River Trail puts on a vibrant wildflower show each spring and we were ahead of the floral fireworks. However, there were some early blossomers commencing the blooming festivities, notably those being saxifrage, Hall's desert parsley, snow queen, with occasional specimens of Oregon sunshine and oaks toothwort. (Grammatical question: shouldn't the plural of toothwort be teethwort?) I can't quite say much photography ensued because there weren't that many wildflowers to take photos of...yet.

The leaves of laurel are more fragrant than the flowers

One of my favorite things about the Rogue River Trail is the forest comprised of laurel, tan oak, and madrone treees. The laurels were sporting umbels of yet unopened flower buds and as always, the fragrance of the leaves entranced passing hikers. The madrones reached up to the blue sky overhead, their wiggly smooth orange-colored trunks providing a pleasing visual contrast to all the blue and green above and around the trail. A cousin to madrone, manzanita shrubs contributed their blue-gray leaves and smooth burgundy-colored limbs and trunks to the shrubbery rainbow flanking the trail. And as always, the mottled light filtering through the trees created a pleasant ambiance to hike in.

A small spring runoff trickles across the trail

If you've ever hiked the Rogue River Trail in the summer, then you are well aware that it can get blazing hot, arid, and dry, with the rocky cliffs well populated by buzzing rattlesnakes, ex-wives, and other scaly reptiles. However, in spring and early summer, small creeks run across the trail, the tinkling waters providing a musical backdrop to the all the usual sounds of the forest mixed in with some huffing and puffing from old out-of-shape hikers (present company included). Today was no different and I was only too happy to get boots wet as I splashed across the burbling creeks.

Snow queen, blooming on the forest floor

Our party of four had gotten spread out as John and Jennifer had left me in their dust as is their usual wont, and I had left Dianne in my dust as is my usual wont. Mostly, I just hiked by myself, accompanied by my own idle thoughts on a gorgeous day. We had talked about lunching at Whiskey Creek Cabin, a backwoods museum and historical site but when I arrived, I had the whole place to myself. Obviously, John and Jennifer had continued on further up the trail. Nonetheless, I enjoyed lazing on the grass, eating lunch amid the rusting mining relics strewn about in front of the rustic cabin. 

Sun and shade on the trail

I did run into John and Jennifer lunching on a sun-exposed beach where Whiskey Creek met the Rogue River and we called out greetings to each other as I continued hiking back to the trailhead at Graves Creek. Wanting to prove my mettle somewhat, I pushed my pace in what I presumed would be a vain attempt to keep from being overtaken by my speedy comrades. Actually, I managed to pull off the feat, arriving at the trailhead mere minutes in front of the two uber-hikers.

Thanks old friend, I needed that!

As always, it was nice to fraternize with our old friend the Rogue River Trail, and I certainly look forward to my next visit there. For more photos of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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