Mildred Kanipe Park

Slowly, the predator stalked his prey, innocently standing in a meadow and totally unaware and oblivious to the menace creeping up from behind. Once within striking distance, it was time to swoop in for the kill, "HEY PATTY, what do you think of this hike?" Patty reacted pretty much like you'd think a startled cat would, leaping instantaneously into the air like a coiled spring suddenly being let loose, simultaneously letting out a feral shriek that sounded something like "Yowrk!" Gravity had no choice but to return its airborne prize back to earth and shortly after landing, that's when Patty hit me.

Fog envelopes the livestock pond

Our little Wednesday group of hikers were originally going to hike at Mount Pisgah, near Eugene, but the weather was predicted to be densely foggy and about as gray as an alien cadaver. Since the point of hiking to Pisgah's summit generally is to see stuff (which you can't do in the fog) from the top, it was decided to hike at Mildred Kanipe Park instead. I'm not sure what the exact point of hiking in Kanipe Park is when the same foggy blanket smothers the park (other than giving a friend a heart attack) but you have to hike somewhere, I suppose.

Fallen trees were a thing after this last winter

As we set out into the misty air, we noticed a few downed trees next to the trailhead. Winter had obviously had paid a visit and it looked like last December's snowstorm had claimed more than a few casualties. Fallen trees were a common sight all throughout the park and because we have all been hiking here for many years, it felt like we were bidding a sad farewell to old friends who had recently and tragically passed.

Trail through the oak savanna

My favorite part of Kanipe Park, which has many beautiful parts, is the oak savanna. Here, oaks grow closer than sardines crammed into a tin full of mustard sauce. This time of year, the oak trees were bereft of any leaves but lichen more than made up for the lack of foliage by draping off of everything that did not move. The narrow dirt path wove its way through the oaks and the woods were as quiet as a morgue in the wee hours of the morning.

Pathway through a glade of oak trees

Once the path burst out of the oaken woods, it began a nice little climb through a meadow of low-growing grass. I was feeling walky this morning so I charged up the hill, as eager and energetic as a dog that just heard the word "treat". The trail crested at a boundary fence in the midst of an idyllic and peaceful glade of ever ubiquitous oak trees and from here on in, it would be mostly downhill walking.

A moss-colored turkey-tail

The speed-walking was too good to last! So many interesting things on the ground and I soon stopped my mercurial pace to kneel and lie down to more closely examine and photograph the world at my feet. Spider webs, soaked by mist, were strewn everywhere looking like so many miniature trampolines for the wee folk. Dead oak leaves sported perfectly round galls, the wasp larvae contained within long since departed to commence their lives as adults. On a decaying log, a population of common fungi colloquially known as turkey-tail were all tinted green by moss. Much photography abounded!

Lichen thrived on the trees in Fern Woods

Our route led through the Fern Woods Loop and the pretty little woods were a little bit worse for the wear because of winter. There were a few more fallen trees than usual to contend with and the ferns that so overpopulate the forest floor were doing a fine job of encroaching the path. At least it wasn't as muddy as it can get here. Apart from my factual observations about trail quality, the woods were and always are quiet, peaceful, and eminently beautiful.

A little scrambling over downfall

We ran into half of our party hiking in the opposite direction in Fern Woods. Seems that there are two kinds of hikers in the world: those staid establishment types who hike a loop in a clockwise direction or those colorful rebels and misfits who hike counter-clockwise. Guess which group I was in! At any rate, this wound up being a short 4 mile hike that ended before noon, no matter which direction was hiked.

A pleasant little stand of oaks

Halfway through our outing, Patty did resume speaking to me long enough to apologize for her near-felonious assault upon my person in the meadow. I told her no worries, because she hits like a girl and also because I pretty much had it coming.

Tough and woody, just like me!

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

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Mildred Kanipe Park

Yeah I know, I haven't blogged in a long, long, long time. So to answer all the questions I've received from concerned friends (all two of them): yes, my health is fine; and yes, I still hike. Fine and dandy, but what's up with not blogging? Well, for starters I've branched out and no longer single-mindedly devote all my spare time to the wonderful avocation that is hiking. Added to the mix is live music, photography of live music, and time and energy bartering with bands for free CDs, backstage passes, and quality band time in the green room in exchange for photography. Oh yeah, and that work thing, too.

Nothing but blue skies overhead

Additionally, my attention got sucked into tracing my family history and frankly, that journey has been amazing. Now, my family tree goes back 32 generations and includes, saints (probably some sinners, too), kings and queens, presidents, authors, opera composers, and many other luminaries. With all my illustrious ancestors contributing to my own little shallow end of the gene pool, it's perhaps disappointing I turned out the way I did, but oh well. However, the time spent painstakingly perusing and translating ancient hand-written Spanish baptismal certificates was one more deterrent to sitting down and laying some awesome prose about my trail time.

Sun lights up a blackberry leaf

But really, truth be told, those are just excuses. The reality is that I simply just sort of got out of the habit of writing. After all, if I didn't catch my blog up, the sun still rose and the world did not end. Knowing the blog was getting ridiculously behind I set an arbitrary deadline of one year, as in if I got over one year behind, then I'd just give up the blog altogether. However, a couple of months ago, I had a little trail talk with myself and decided I would catch the blog up. But sheesh, a whole year's worth of hikes? So with profound apologies to my one blog follower, here goes my first hike of 2019.

Tinder fungus works on a decaying stump

This was New Year's Day of 2019 and New Year's Eve had been spent woo-hooing the new year in to the ska beats of Ludicrous Speed at Sam Bond's Garage in Eugene. Needless to say, it was nearly 4:00 am by the time I crawled into bed, effectively ruling out any early morning start to a hike. So, with body and soul dragging from a raucous night of Ludicrous Speed, I began this hike at the ludicrously late hour of 12:30 pm. I probably hiked at a ludicrous speed, too.   

Lichen drapery on an oak tree

Despite the late hour, the peacock welcoming committee at the park was happy to see us, and canine companion Luna was happy to see the peacocks. She was less overjoyed about the leash restraining and constraining her desire to joyously chase the feathered ones. In keeping with the optimism of a new year, the sun was out and the temperature was mild and just perfect for hiking.

Berry nice hawthorn tree

Same old park but a brand new trail for me on this day. We grabbed an unnamed trail that followed a fence line and were immediately surrounded by menacing hawthorns. Sharp thorns do put the "thorn" in "hawthorn" but fortunately, the  trail was well maintained, keeping the painful trees and shrubs at bay. Contrasting nicely against a blue sky, the branches were heavily laden with pithy but bright red hawthorn berries.

Just a beautiful day for a hike!

Life was good for about 3/4 mile or so, at which time the trail hung a sharp left turn at the park's boundary and the uphill hiking began. On the plus side, the path angled across the steep slope instead of charging straight up like the Oak Savannah Trail (my normal route) does. On the other side of the park fence, a horny bull (horny, as in it had horns, not as in...never mind) warily eyed Luna as we walked by. Oak trees were everywhere, their leafless branches gaily festooned with lichen drapery. Much photography ensued.

The wildlife was not all that wild

On a broad grassy ridge dotted with bare oaks, we rejoined the Oak Savannah Trail for a brief bit before departing on the Fern Woods Trail at a junction. The comfortable wide track became a narrow muddy trail that aimlessly meandered up and down through the woods. The two-legged portion of our hiking party left 10-foot skid marks on the treacherously muddy path but never actually fell. The four-legged portion of our hiking party had no problem at all with the slippery mud. Luna wondered how humans got to be the master species on this planet when they can't even walk right and besides which, they walk so slow.

Lichen sprouts on a tree trunk

Fern Woods is a special place and I always enjoy the peaceful forest when I hike here. Today was no exception and frequent stops were made, much to the consternation of an overly energetic dog, to photograph ferns, mushrooms, moss, and lichen. Because of our late start and because the days are short in winter, shadows lengthened in the forest as the sun slipped behind the trees.

Whee!

Leaving the tranquil forest behind, we entered Bachelor Creek's wet valley bottom. There were several inches of standing water covering the trail and while I trod through the ankle deep water, Luna was beyond joy. Letting out yips of unrestrained exuberance, the dog ran back and forth across the large puddles. The world would truly be a much better place if everybody hiked like Luna.

I got way too close to cow poop for this photo

At a prominent trail junction next to Bachelor Creek, a temporarily unleashed Luna enjoyed a quick splash and swim in the cloudy water. From there, this short 4 mile loop hike was closed off by returning to the trails through the oak savannas, where we enjoyed the sunshine and open pasture all over again. Our walk was briefly interrupted when I spotted odd little orange fungi sprouting all over a cow patty. I may have even let out my own little unrestrained yips of joy as I photographed the orange poop-loving fungi from a way-too-close distance, .

Mushroom on (in?) crack

Flash forward a year from this hike to find grandchildren and I standing in the checkout line at Fred Meyer, buying foodstuffs for the current day's hike. The woman in front of us said "Hello" and then asked "Are you that guy that writes for the News-Review about hiking?" I had to explain that it had been a couple of years since I last did that so she asked "Well, do you have a blog or anything like that?" Then I had to shamefacedly explain that I am one lazy Hiking Dude. But that conversation was one more impetus to resume blogging!

The Puddle of Serenity in the oaken woods

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

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Mildred Kanipe Park

This was one of those days where I felt like hiking but not driving. When I feel so conflicted, well, that's the time to hike local. The day prior, I had such a great hike on the Upper Rogue River that I wanted more, it wasn't enough, and yes, I am a hiking addict. One of these days, I'll be standing in front of my local chapter of H.A. (Hikers Anonymous), confessing "Um...Hi...My name is Richard and I hike a lot..." At any rate, I was not so enthused about spending another half-day of car seat time, so it was time to visit Kanipe Park in nearby Oakland. 

Park security corps

As I parked my car on a drizzly and overcast morn, a pandilla of peacocks came by to accost me, with several hopping on top of my car. "Say, nice paint job there, dude. I'd hate to see some bird crap on your car just because you couldn't see your way to give us some food" I got the message and ponied up a handful of sunflower seeds and my car didn't need a washing afterwards.

Rustic horse barn at the Underwood Home site

There are several loop trails in the park, most being centered around a bridge over muddy Bachelor Creek. I had never hiked in the equestrian area or on the Mildred's Forest Loop so I headed up a gravel road in search of a path to Mildred's Forest. Didn't find one and in short order, I found myself in the nearly empty park campground, wondering "Where'd the trail go?"

Which way do I go?
Quick, consult the phone!

There are many trails that braid across the park acreage and a good map is essential and oops, I didn't bring one. No problem, though, I cheated and popped the map up on my phone and navigated that way. It's not too often I get to hike somewhere with cell phone service. It just goes to show that from a hiking standpoint, cheaters sometimes do prosper!

Think of it as "our" pasture, cows

Anyway, after consulting the phone map, I walked across a pasture, startling a herd of cattle in the process. A wet wade across Bachelor Creek and a short walk on a muddy cow track through the blackberry brambles brought me to the real trail in a thoroughly chewed up field. The bulldozers had been at work here in what presumably was a battle in the war to rid the park of English hawthorn.

Trail through the hawthorns

This area had originally been settled by English pioneers, giving the nearby valley the rather generic name of English Settlement. When they did settle, the English brought English hawthorn with them and Oregon has been trying to export them back ever since. Anyway, Mildred's Forest Trail entered a field full of the thorny invaders before heading uphill to the Drill Barn site.

Oak galls

All that is left of the Drill Barn are the foundation piers in a grassy square in the middle of a young forest. Small oaks were covered in oak galls, and an impenetrable growth of bramble, poison oak, and honeysuckle vines discouraged any off-trail hiking. The trail headed uphill before cresting and closing the loop on a leg through a forest of bigleaf maple and oak. 

Oregon ash provided the only autumn color

After the marvelous autumn display on the Upper Rogue River the day before, I must say I was disappointed in the autumn colors at Kanipe Park. The oaks were still leafed dark green, holding autumn at bay for another couple of weeks. The maples were just starting to blush yellow, so a dispirited "meh!" to them. Occasional Oregon ash trees were in full yellow autumn song but they were few and far between. In all, it was fairly colorless which was appropriate seeing as how the sky was gray too.

It's a jungle out there

The next loop was the Underwood Hill Loop. I had hiked this loop before in the counter-clockwise direction and the uphill climb was brutal, making me think the loop should be named Undertaker Hill instead. However, a clockwise loop is not too bad at all, especially when the gray clouds dissipate and the day morphs from damp and dreary to sunny and cool.

Picturesque trail on Underwood Hill

One of the things I enjoy about Kanipe Park are the acres and acres of some of the most stately and regal oaks you can find in all of Oregon. The trail ambled underneath the majestic trees and the trail was bathed in dappled sunlight as it crested Underwood Hill. Birds twittered and flittered in the branches overhead and blue sky loomed over all. 

Shady glade near Bachelor Creek

Upon returning to the bridge and Bachelor Creek, the next loop of choice was the Fern Woods Trail, colored bright purple on the map. The route paralleled Bachelor Creek before angling gently uphill toward Fern Woods. However, I was distracted by a "shiny object", the distraction being a faint path peeling off the main route and heading up and across a bald and grassy slope. Basically, the path bypassed Fern Woods but served up some Vitamin D restoring sunlight and some nice views of Oakland and the English Settlement valley. 

Kanipe Park is the oak capital of Oregon

As the path descended a ridge festooned with beautiful oak trees, the afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees and shadows lengthened. A picnic table underneath a tree just invited a contemplative sit-down and I obliged. A slow breeze soughed softly through the trees and small songbirds warbled in the surrounding vegetation. There was nary a cloud in sky and best of all, no thieving deer to be seen. Life was good and some serious soul-soothing took place under the oaks as I lazed for a few minutes.

Oak arbor

My route kind of looked like a wobbly clover leaf, but I did get nearly 8.5 miles in. At the day use area, the peacocks came running "He's back! Seed Dude is back!" They did enjoy the remainder of my sunflower seeds and I certainly enjoyed the hike, plus it was a short drive home.

Blackberry considers the arrival of autumn

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

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