Mule Mountain

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

Shade is NOT overrated

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

A litter of cat's ears

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

Glen dutifully clears the trail

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

Some of that 2,581 feet of elevation gain

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

View from the top

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

Lupines add colorize the Mule Mountain Trail

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

Naked broomrape

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

Carol and Glen lead the way (no camera!)

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Little Grayback Mountain Trail

Sometimes, two words just go together just right, like "mountain" and "trail". So, Little Grayback Mountain Trail gets my attention after reading just half the name. However, the name Little Grayback actually refers to the lice that drove early gold rushers batty, which goes to show you need to read the fine print when looking at a trail name.

A perfect day for hiking

After meeting up with Medford hiking buddies Glen, Carol, and Katie the banana-eating dog in the itty bitty town of Ruch, we set our 10 feet on the Little Grayback Mountain Trail. The contrast between this hike and the North Umpqua Trail from the day before was illustrative of the difference between hiking in the Cascades and hiking in the Siskiyous. Where I had to contend with water in all its liquid states on the North Umpqua, there was nary a drop to be found on the steep slopes of Little Grayback Mountain.

Shady forest

The trail alternated between shady forest and sunny slopes covered with stunted or dead growth. In the shady parts, snow queen, shooting star, avalanche lily, and Oregon grape were all blooming away.  The shade was cool but just as we started to shiver with exposure, the trail would spit us out onto dry and warm slopes. And just as we started to get overheated, the trail would take us into the shade again.  It sort of reminded me of a long car trip with Mrs. O'Neill and I cranking up the heater or turning on the air conditioning every 5 minutes or so, only with considerably less discord.

View to the Red Buttes 

The Little Grayback Mountain Trail is a close relative of nearby Mule Mountain Trail and the Stein Butte Trail, except the Little Grayback Trail angles uphill at a steady but never overwhelming grade. No blood gets shed, unlike the other two trails, and the scenery is remarkably similar what with open slopes with great views all day long of the snowy Red Buttes and other Siskiyou Mountain friends.

Lunchtime panorama

We ate lunch at a meadowed slope dropping steeply away from us into the Squaw Creek Basin. At the bottom of the valley lay the larger Squaw Lake, nestled in a forested bowl among the surrounding mountains. Snowy peaks surrounded us and the warm sun made us feel all fuzzy and mellow. Katie was happy too, although her happiness had more to do with shared sandwiches and bananas than with the awesome vista.

My trail name is Runs From Ticks

So there we were, totally relaxing when Glen found a tick on his pants leg. After rolling up the seam on the zipper (not that zipper!) halfway up his pants leg, several dozen ticks dropped out of where they had been surreptitiously hiding. Glenn apparently had not paid enough attention in Man School, erroneously hearing "tick magnet" instead of "chick magnet". Carol found a couple too but I had nary a one on me, thankfully. On the hike out, Glenn continued to harvest the eight-legged disgusting little buggers no matter if he hiked first, last, or any point in between. Apparently ticks find him to be quite the tasty Glennchilada and please pass the hot sauce.

Oregon, the Tick State!

Well, back to us relaxing at lunch: After Glenn found tick after tick after tick after tick, I could just feel little tick feet crawling all over me. Eeeh! After we performed a tick check, removing clothing and searching bodies as much as decorum allowed, we vacated the meadow and headed back, relaxation time over. Walking  in shady forest and on open slopes with awesome views just hammered the point home that we live in one of the most beautiful places on our planet. Aw, who am I kidding, I can still feel imaginary ticks crawling on me!

Intruder alert!  California red bell, in Oregon

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