Umpqua Spit 8/2015

The only other time I backpacked to the end of Umpqua Spit, the weather, the clouds, the sky, and (most of all) the sunset were truly spectacular. Based on that wonderful weekend, Umpqua Spit became a recent selection for a casual two-day backpack. Memory can be selective and I neatly overlooked my first hike there with friend-cum-victim Lisa. On that ill-fated venture we had to contend with truly horrendous weather and running for our lives from a sudden sneaker wave. But since the weather was so fantastic the next time out, I'm now a wild-eyed hand-waving Umpqua Spit zealot. Actually, I'm sufficiently wild-eyed and hand waving enough without the Umpqua Spit-inspired zealotry, but I digress. At any rate, I sang enough praises about the spit that Lane and Kevin both decided to join me for a fine spittin' weekend at the Spit.  

Who let the dogs out? Who? Who?

At first. the weather was reminiscent of my earlier (good) trip what with blue sky and puffy white clouds floating above the Oregon coast on a gorgeous day. Kevin brought along his dog Wish and Wish was only too happy to splash in the surf. For a while we were joined by a black dog who merrily frolicked with a kindred canine spirit before a distant call from his owner ended all that fun.

Tidal runoff

There wasn't a lot of water in Threemile Creek and boots barely got wet as we splashed across. It was low tide and the surf had retreated below some sand bars, trapping water behind the bars in large pools that a certain dog liked to splash around in. The pools drained in haphazard fashion and we had to wade across a fair number of runoffs. At the larger pools, we simply detoured around them.

There will be no birds on the beach, by canine edict

Gulls and flocks of sanderlings were parked on the sand and Wish made it his personal mission to make sure all the birds he could see were airborne and off what he deemed to be his own private beach. Us photographers had to take hurried pictures of the birds before the dog chased them away.

Where'd the sunny day go?

Roughly, it was about 6 miles to the jetty at the Umpqua River and the closer we drew to the jetty, the least amount of sun shone down upon us. A thick cloud cover was coming in and the temperature cooled down quite a bit. It was tending towards stormy when we arrived at the jetty and so much for the Umpqua Spit 'n shine.

Home, home on the spit

At the jetty, we left the beach and scrambled up to the top of a grassy dune and pitched our tents in the tall grass.  Lane was my immediate neighbor and Kevin was just beyond Lane's site. Even though Kevin was only about 25 yards away from me, his tent was completely invisible due to the tall grass on the dunes.

Rusted equipment on a rocky point

After setting up camp and eating dinner, we took a short hike up the river along the jetty . We explored a small and rocky point in the middle of Winchester Bay that looked like it had served some industrial purpose in the days of yore. There were rotting pilings and a corroded bin of some sort that contained rocks. The point was littered with rusty machine parts and equipment and one plastic toy shovel that probably did not originate from the days of yore. A nice view of the bay, the town of Winchester Bay, the Umpqua Lighthouse, and the sandy spit was appreciated by all of us, except for maybe Wish who just lived in the moment and didn't really care about all that stuff.

Morning, gray and wet

Unlike my first trip, there was no sunset as the heavy cloud cover took care of that. So we tucked in early as the fog rolled in. I had brought my two-man Kelty tent and it had been field tested in rain so I was pretty secure about keeping the wet air out. However, the field test had been several years ago as I was so reminded when a cold water drop plopped on my forehead. And that was my night: drip, drip, drip. I couldn't tell if it was condensation on the inside or fog leaking through the tent from the outside, my wet forehead could make no such distinction. Not the most comfortable night I've spent on a backpack trip!

Hiking into the void

Early in the morning, I crawled out of my soggy sleeping bag and entered a foggy world of gray, gray, and more gray. It was so thick, the ocean was not visible at all, although the sound of the waves could be heard. We struck camp quickly and began walking the six miles back to the car. It was foggy so we couldn't really see much although Wish still had no problem spotting birds to chase. After six perfunctory miles in the gray, we enjoyed a fine brunch at Don's Diner in Reedsport. Life is good when you have a full belly after a full weekend.

Umpqua Spit is Number 1!

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

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Umpqua Spit

I had so much fun backpacking to the end of Umpqua Spit last May, I just had to bring my Friends of the Umpqua friends to the spit. Of course, what was an easy two-day backpack trip became a more challenging day hike due to the round-trip 11.7 miles of beach walking. Also, there'd be no awesome sunset on the day hike version as we'd be back in Roseburg well before day's end. On the plus side, a trip to the coast would be a great way to escape the frying pan sizzle that has been southern Oregon this summer.

Maureen flies across the tidal flat

The day was blessedly overcast as clouds covered up the shore like a misty blanket of coolness; the temperature was in the high 50's and just perfect for hiking. As we (all eight of us, plus two dogs) set out on the beach it was apparent the ocean had been busy sculpting the beach as there were a number of ditches and flumes carved into the beach. We crossed Threemile Creek but it was hard to tell exactly where as there were a number of impromptu ponds and water flows that we had to hike through and around. I kept comparing the relatively rugged beach to the flat-as-a-pool-table shoreline that I had encountered on my spring backpack trip. 

Low tide exposed churned up beaches

There weren't any other hikers out on the beach besides our little group and we were passed by a small contingent of noisy four-wheelers tearing up the dunes. On the hiker-only sections of the Oregon coast, they rope off the dry sand part of the beach and post warning signs for hikers to stay on the wet sand in order to protect the snowy plover. They don't even try with the motorized crowd and I'll take that as a compliment. At any rate, this hike was miles and miles of lonely beach.

Umpqua River on the left, ocean on the right

After about 4 miles, the Umpqua River jetty hove into view and we homed in on it like a mosquito homes in on a hot and sweaty hiker. Once we arrived at the jetty it was time for a lunch and laze atop the rocks. We had a nice overlook of the Umpqua River and across the river in Winchester Bay they were having their annual Dunefest. The Dunefest is probably why we did not see more four-wheelers on this hike.

The sun, it burnsss us, yess!

On the way back the tide started to come in and all the hydrologic sand carving was covered up by the sea. Just like my spring hike here, the beach was now smooth and flat and we were clicking off 18 to 19 minute miles. Including outrlunch time, we averaged 24.5 minutes per mile. We were walking almost as fast as the four-wheelers! Towards the end of the hike, the clouds dissipated, the sun came out, and we returned to blistering hot Roseburg.

Charlie's Angels?

For more pictures of this long beach walk, please visit the Flickr album.

Somebody hacked up a lung, or maybe a spleen

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Umpqua Spit weekend

Years ago, I took co-worker Lisa on a hike to Umpqua Spit and boy did that ever turn out to be a Richard Hike! We had it all: strong winds, horizontal rain, high tide, storm surges and sneaker waves that filled up Threemile Creek and cut us off from the car. That was Lisa's first hike with me and amazingly, we enjoyed other hiking adventures after that memorable outing, probably because no one ever told Lisa she could just say no. From that first abortive hike on Umpqua Spit, I came back with newfound religion about hiking in stormy weather on the beach and I never returned to the spit again.  To be frank, I'm scared of Umpqua Spit.

Halfway across Threemile Creek

However, when snow forces one to scratch a weekend backpack trip to Hyatt Lake, then the coast warrants a second look. The forecast for Saturday morning called for rain, winds, and thunder. However, all that was supposed to ease up by 11 o'clock with the weather becoming increasingly nicer. Since high tide was going to crest at 10 o'clock, I began my hike at noon and it was "hike on!" And since the spit's point is one of the few places on the Oregon coast that I have not yet been to, it was "spit on!"

Cue the horror movie music

I caught a lot of rain on the drive to the coast but once there, it was a gloriously sunny day with white puffy clouds forming just off shore and just on shore. The strip of beach was a cloud free zone and it was nice to get sunburned again. The next six miles were a beach walk with only sanderlings and sea gulls for company. I probably was not good company, judging by the feathered panic at my arrival to the respective flocks minding their own business at the shore's edge.

Puff balls in the sky

Clouds and blue sky were a recurring theme, particularly a low bank forming just off shore, looking like a spilled jar of cotton balls seen in medical offices the world over. The clouds hovering over the nearby town of Reedsport were much larger, towering up into the sky like a wedding cake Godzilla. I have no idea what I'm saying, but let it be noted that much photography ensued.

The jetty rocks!

Past the three mile mark, an otherworldly low dark line on the horizon was my first view of the rock jetty that shepherds the Umpqua River into the Pacific Ocean. Visually, it was a way to track my progress as I neared the jetty, my basic end destination. And over an hour after the first view, I arrived at the formidable rock wall that both contains and constrains the mighty Umpqua River.

Feel the hay fever

Setting down my pack on the sandy beach, I explored the jetty upstream a bit, following a jeep track through what would have otherwise been an impenetrable forest. It was a perfumed forest, redolent with the sweet odor of Scotch broom which was blooming everywhere. Waves were marching up the very wide Umpqua River and I had a nice view of the Umpqua Lighthouse spinning its top on the other side of the river.

Behold the mighty Umpqua River

I have to brag about my campsite, a viable candidate for Best Campsite Ever. I pitched my tent on a small flat spot atop the foredunes, with my humble little home for the weekend perched on the narrow sandy crest like a medieval castle overlooking serfs and peasants laboring in the hot sun.  From my living room window I enjoyed a magnificent view of the beach, jetty, and river as the sun sank in the sky. As day slid into twilight, the tide was coming up the river and the Umpqua was not a happy Umpqua where river outflow met the incoming tide, it was a seething and roiling boat-eating mess of angry water.  Impressive, when seen from the relative safety of the jetty rocks.

Oooh...aaah...!

The sun eventually dropped behind the clouds, which appeared to leak golden light like a tattered tent with a Coleman lantern in it. Eventually the gold turned to orange as the sun finally sunk behind the horizon. A short hike up the jeep track resulted in some photography of the twinkling lights of Winchester Bay as the beam from the lighthouse swept overhead. This whole day is why we hike.

Threemile Creek, on the return leg

The next day dawned cold and foggy and I struck camp with numbed fingers. Once the sun rose, the fog dissipated and it was a pleasant but anticlimactic 6 miles back to the car under cloudless sky. After wading across shallow Threemile Creek, I arrived at the car with a great sense of accomplishment, particularly in view of the first Umpqua Spit storm-loogie of an experience. As the president and sole member of the Umpqua Spit Conquerers, I hailed myself by heartily shouting our motto: "Veni, vidi, et conspuetur", which means "I came, I saw, I spit"

This is why we hike

For more pictures, please visit the Flickr album.

Be it ever so humble...