North Bank Habitat - Thistle Ridge/North Gate Loop

I'm actually OK with this socially distant hiking, it melds well with my personality. Or maybe I'm confusing "socially distant" with "socially awkward". At any rate, I spend enough time walking in the woods by myself that I really don't have to make any major adjustments to my hiking style other than frantically bailing off the trail in terror when another hiker appears on the trail, accidentally getting within my social nearness boundary. Come to think of it, that's not all that abnormal a hiking behavior for me, either.

Wild iris purpled up the hike

Staying at home these days has been fairly easy as I'm retired and there's always yard work or no work to entertain me. Besides which, Mrs. O'Neill is working from home so there's always company even though that requires me to mimic socially acceptable behavior. But it's a different story for my friend Jay, however. He too is working from home and he's a programmer so it's just him and the computer screen all day long. Apparently, he's getting cabin fever, for he asked if I could take him hiking, socially-distant style. So off to the North Bank Habitat we went (in separate vehicles) and when I picked up a gopher snake slithering across the trail, we became extremely socially distant when he fled screaming for the next time zone to the east.

Panoramal activity

The original plan percolating in my brain was a loop involving the Middle Ridge Road from the western trailhead. However, the trailhead parking lot was full of vehicles so I made a spur of the moment decision to continue to the eastern trailhead. The Habitat's gate was locked of course, and we added our vehicles to the cars parked outside the gate. The developed trailheads are closed these days to prevent cars and people from congregating in the parking lots but all that happens is people congregate at the point of closure anyway, but there we are.

It it's in the North Bank, it goes uphill

Anyway, to avoid coming into contact with would-be virus spreading people-type persons, we grabbed the Thistle Ridge Road instead of taking the well-used gravel road to the Comstock Day Use Area. Immediately, the trail angled uphill and that was Jay's first exposure (from a socially distant distance of ten to fifteen feet behind me) to what is typical hiking in the North Bank. Initially, the scenery wasn't particularly awesome as we hiked under some buzzing power lines but once we left those behind us, it was all good for the rest of the day.

Blazing star blazes away

After a short and rather utilitarian climb away from the power lines, the junction with the Deer Hollow Tie Trail was reached and I was back on familiar territory, seeing as how I had hiked this same trail just several weeks ago. But what a difference a few weeks can make! On this day, the grass was green and lush instead of just sprouting like a couple of weeks ago, and wildflowers were blooming in rampant profusion.

The prettiest evilest leaf ever

Also growing rampantly but not green, were thick patches of poison oak bushes. I tested Jay quickly, because he is a both a hiking and Oregon neophyte, and I'm proud to say my student passed the exam each and every time by correctly pointing out the poison oak when asked. In the sunny patches of trail, which was about 90% of the hike, the leaves were coming out in shades of dark red, burgundy, and sometimes nearly black in color. I generally try to stay away from Satan's favorite shrub but in this case, I made an exception as I was quite struck by the beauty of the oily itch-spreading leaves. Anyway, I got within the plant's personal space to take some photos of the colorful foliage. Normally, I try to stay at least two miles away from the accursed itch disseminating bushes.

Parallel lines

The trail headed uphill across grassy slopes before ducking into a forest on a relatively level trail. Where I had struggled with the muddy track several weeks ago, the trail was now dry and hard-packed, just like me! And after walking out of the forest, it was time to soak in the totally awesome view down to Whistlers Bend.

The view to Whistlers Bend never gets old

Rain and clouds had been an issue on my prior hike but not today. The sky was a deep blue and there were just a handful of small clouds floating in the sky. While the sun was out, the breeze upwelling from the creek valleys kept us cool and the air had that clarity and crispness normally reserved for a clear day in winter. And below the aforementioned deep blue sky, the North Umpqua River idly circled the peninsula of Whistlers Bend. Surrounding farms greened up the valley with pastures, and the terrain was dotted with farm ponds. Just a magnificent scene and we took a short break just to take it all in for a few minutes.

The Thistle Ridge trail goes through a thicket of oak trees

The kind and gentle grade at the overlook soon became just a distant memory, driven out of our thoughts by burning quad muscles as we continually headed uphill on Thistle Ridge first, then Middle Ridge next, both bereft of shade of any sort. Our leg pain was assuaged somewhat by fantastic views of the North Umpqua River and windblown Middle Ridge looming in front of us. The terrain was all covered in grass, which was well-populated with flowering blue-eyed grass which is in fact, yellow-eyed and not actually a grass. Who names these things, anyway?

Ugh!

At the intersection with the North Gate Road, we availed ourselves of the facilities which consisted of just a picnic table and an awesome view. We spent a little bit of time there to eat lunch, rest, and relax. I had a notion of continuing up to the North Boundary Ridge but once we started up yet another steep section of trail, the whining started and not necessarily from Jay, either! No problem, it was still a beautiful day and hike, so we backtracked and headed down the steep North Gate Road.

A gopher snake on the trail and Jay was nowhere to be seen

Wild iris was in bloom all around the trail and as I was photographing several, I noticed a large gopher snake basking in the warm sunlight. Seconds later, the snake was in my hands hissing and showing its teeth and that's how I found out that not only does Jay really not like snakes, he doesn't even like people picking them up either. I also found out his voice could squeal high enough to drop stunned squirrels out of trees. We were able to resume both hiking and our friendship once the snake was returned to its grassy habitat.  

Blue-eyed grass is yellow-eyed and not really a grass

By this time, we were down in Soggy Bottom, which was no longer soggy, and a short walk on the gravel road returned us to our vehicles. Most of the vehicles were gone and despite all the cars parked there in the morning, we only saw only one other hiker all day, a woman out hiking with her children (candidate for Mom of the Year, in my opinion) on Middle Ridge. Generally, most people probably avoid the steep trails and do the easier hikes to either Soggy Bottom or Blacktail Basin. Me, I'll probably keep going on the steeper routes to maintain that social distancing protocol and avoid people like the socially awkward hiker person that I am.

Just a gorgeous day in the North Bank

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

Create Routes or Search for a route from millions at MapMyHike

North Bank Habitat - 4/2019

Oh, we had some grandiose and overly optimistic plans for hiking in the Cascades but alas, the intended trailhead for this weekend's outing had been rendered inaccessible by snow blanketing the forest roads. Besides which, more snow was predicted to fall throughout the weekend and if you can't even get to the trailhead, then it's pretty hard to go hiking, isn't it? Additionally, the person slated to lead the hike couldn't lead the hike that day so a substitute hike leader (me!) was enlisted to take a group on a substitute hike destination, and there's no substitute for the North Bank Habitat when weather conspires to keep hikers out of the higher elevations. 

Soggy Bottom was just that

All that snow falling in the mountains translated to rain in the Roseburg area and accordingly, we had a rather sparse turnout consisting of four hikers and one dog. Surprisingly, two of the hikers (and the dog) were first-timers which is highly unusual for a weather-challenged Richard Hike but hats off to Missy and David for showing up. And hats down to all the hiking regulars who employed years of wisdom and experience to stay home on this wet day.

Sodden landscape in the Habitat

All the rain falling made Soggy Bottom pretty soggy, indeed. But water is life and all the rain this winter had turned the rolling hills and soggy bottoms green with burgeoning new grass and vegetation. Poison oak was budding out with vegetation of the non-green variety, their red buds warning hikers to keep away from the accursed itch-spreading leaves. The oak trees of the Habitat were still behind the spring curve though, remaining leafless for the time being. Naturally, as is customary this time of year, the trail was fairly muddy.

Snowpocalypse 2019 exacted a toll from the trees

This was the first time I had been to the Habitat since Snowpocalypse 2019, a late February snowstorm that had crippled Douglas County. Many of the stately oaks dotting the meadows and rolling hills of the habitat had not survived the snowstorm, the weight of heavy snow on branches toppling the trees to an untimely demise. Accordingly, trees and tree parts lay all over Soggy Bottom and across the trail itself. I read somewhere that up to 40% of the trees in local forests had been damaged and that seemed about right for the forest carnage in the Habitat.

It was a cold and wet hike up to North Boundary Ridge

We took Soggy Bottom Road because the cold rain was travail enough, no need adding a horrendously steep trail to the wet mix. Soggy Bottom Road gets up to the North Boundary Ridge at a much kinder rate than its other trail brethren in the Habitat, making it the logical route choice on a miserable day. At least the exertion from hiking the uphill grade kept us sort of warm on this wet and chilly day. On the plus side (sarcasm), once we left the forest, the open grassy slopes exposed us to a brisk breeze and heavier rain, so we weren't really all that warm. 

This photo says it all

The awesome views from North Boundary Ridge are the reason for all the uphill hiking, but there was only the merest hint of them as we gained elevation. What few views there were on this day had a decidedly wet and wintry flavor and weren't nearly as expansive as normal, which meant we really had no reason for hiking up there in the first place. The cloud cover was barely high enough to allow a peek down the creek valleys running to the North Umpqua River, and the higher ridges disappeared into parts unknown somewhere inside the gray mist of the rain clouds.

O Witching Tree, this cannot be!

The route crested at Grumpy's Pond, our normal lunch stop, but by unanimous consent we all decided to forgo lunch in favor of returning to dry cars as quickly as possible. Near the small pond, there is a tree that I've always referred to as the "Witching Tree" because in my fevered imagination, I imagined anthropomorphic beasts of the woods holding hands, hooves, and paws as they danced a circle around the tree on spooky moonlit nights. But alas, the arboreal landmark had hosted its last haunted rite because it too had fallen victim to Snowpocalypse 2019 and was now lying in pieces next to the trail, the former magnificent tree being relegated to an ignominious heap of broken timber.

Misty view to the higher ridge crests

We descended off of North Boundary Ridge by way of Blacktail Basin. Nobody slipped in the mud so there were no black tails slapped onto any hiker backsides belonging to our wet and bedraggled party. The rain, which up to this point had been fairly light, increased in intensity as we descended and I can still hear the pitter-patter staccato of raindrops striking my hat brim as we hiked.

Splish, splash!

Once down in Blacktail Basin, the trail crossed and recrossed Jackson Creek several times. The creek was running fairly full which should have come as no surprise, given the rainy weather, and we soon gave up all pretense of remaining dry-footed. Everybody pretty much just splashed across the rushing creek, boots be damned, and Arlie (our canine compatriot) was the only one openly happy about the experience.

A landslide gave us cause to scramble over it

Near the end of the hike, the trail was blocked by a good-sized landslide and we had to scramble across the pile of mud and rocks covering the trail. I'll refer you to my previous comment about Arlie's state of mind which would also apply to crossing the mudslide. But cross it we did and we arrived back at the trailhead in short order, each participant satisfied with our hike in spite of the wet weather. 

Poison oak was not one of the high points of this hike

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

Create Routes or Search for a route from millions at MapMyHike

North Bank Habitat (west Loop)

The weather forecast again called for rain so it was just me, John, and 3 first-timers at the trailhead. One of the first-timers was shaking hands and introducing himself "Hi, I'm Ed". Hey, I know Ed! Back in a previous life, I had worked 13 years at a mushroom farm in Watsonville, California. So did Ed! It turned out that Ed is also a good friend of a colleague of mine when I worked for the government, and life coincidentally took us both to Roseburg. So here we were, 27 years since we last worked together, reminiscing on the trail about the farm and the people who worked there. Small world, as they say.

Maple trees are still leafless, but not bloomless

And speaking of old friends, the North Bank Habitat is just that. It's close to Roseburg and the trails are mostly snow-free all year and are always reliably scenic, even in bad weather. And when the aforementioned bad weather keeps us from hiking a scheduled hike at higher elevations, the North Bank is always quietly accepting as a backup destination, despite our constant philandering with other more glamorous hiking destinations.

Uphill, in the rain

As we began our hike the rain was coming down but what else is new these days? Out came the rain gear from our packs, and we headed up a gravel jeep road. Before long, we were all pretty warm from the exertion despite the cool and wet weather, because all trails go uphill at an alarmingly fast rate in the North Bank. That is our penance to pay for making our old friend a second choice destination over and over again.

The North Umpqua perambulates around Whistlers Bend

The good news though, was that by the time we reached Middle Ridge, the rain had stopped and we actually enjoyed intermittent bursts of sunlight on the open ridge. The wind had picked up though, and the remainder of the day would be on the gusty and blustery side.

View down to Soggy Bottom

Because of the possibility of unkind weather, we had left the shorter loop down Chasm Creek in play, as a return leg option. However, when we reached the intersection with the Chasm Creek Trail, the weather still wasn't too bad, and we were all still willing, so it was onward and upward to the North Boundary Ridge.

Walking on top of the world

If you are going to hike uphill all day, your destination should be something like the North Boundary Ridge. Fantastic views like these are why we hike. The open windblown grassy ridge dropped away at our feet and we looked down the  Jackson Creek drainage running into the North Umpqua River, glistening in the midday sun. Beyond the river lay the topography of most of southern Oregon and regrettably, we could see a pretty good wall of clouds and inclement weather fast approaching from the west.

Ed ponders the uphill hiking in our future

Ostensibly, we were headed downhill but the seeming reality was that the trail was going up and down like the world's slowest roller coaster. That's OK, though, because each subsequent climb allowed for another view-soak and rest stop. As we were hating and enjoying the uphill and downhill, respectively, the wall of clouds finally arrived and we found ourselves hiking in a mild hailstorm.

Shooting starts, doing what they do

As we continued dropping down to Chasm Creek and eventually, our trailhead, the hail stopped, the clouds dissipated, and the sun warmed bodies and spirits. Such is life in the North Bank, and we all enjoyed the time spent on a fine spring hike with old friends.

Incoming hailstorm, approaching from the west

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

North Bank Habitat 12/2017

Last hike of the year! (Disclaimer: even though I am writing and posting this entry in mid-February 2018, the hike was actually done last year. Confusing, I know, but I am way behind!). Traditionally, the hiking club always closes out each year with a hike in the North Bank Deer Habitat and 2017 would be no different. One unique feature of this year's version was that yours truly was tabbed to lead the hike and since I prefer not hiking the same route over and over again, the normal route was changed up a bit as we hiked up Soggy Bottoms Road and came down East Boundary Ridge. Nobody complained through, because the route could have gone up the incredibly steep East Boundary Ridge for 4.3 miles instead of coming down it like we did.

Drip, drip, drip...
.

It was chilly at the beginning but not quite icy. The habitat was socked in with fog that muffled sound, sight, and mental acuity alike. Soggy Bottoms Road was just that: soggy and at the bottom of a valley. Soon our boots were coated in mud which is normal when hiking in the habitat in winter or early spring. I'd say the views were nice but you had to squint really hard just to barely perceive the outline of the nearest hill somewhere in the dense fog.

The views were less than expansive

The expectation was that as we climbed out of Soggy Bottoms, we'd be hiking out of the fog and into a sunny day but that never quite panned out, for the day could never really decide whether to be sunny or foggy. There were times where we enjoyed ample sunlight and there were times where we looked nervously around, halfway expecting a North Bank version of Jack the Ripper to materialize out of the soupy mist.

Rays of hope gave us hope

As normal, our hiking party of 9 separated into two groups: fast hikers and photographers, where "photographer" is used as a synonym for "slow hiker" in this context. I'll leave it to the reader's imagination as to which group I was in, although I will point out I do carry a camera. Anyway, by the time us laggards reached Grumpy's Pond, we were far behind the speedsters. Gaoying was waiting for us at the pond, welcoming us with a sarcastic "I thought you guys had stopped for lunch!". I believe "stopped for lunch" was used in this context as a synonym for "slower than sloths".

Why we hike

At the crest atop the North Boundary, the heavy fog lifted, the sun came out, and we enjoyed the usual great views from the habitat's higher reaches. A spectacular rainbow arched over us and we could actually see the end of the rainbow touching down upon the trail. The rainbow was so spectacular, we didn't really care that there was no proverbial pot of gold.

Ghostly snag in the ghostly mist

The habitat is a working ranch still, and we had to pass a series of gates to get past the electrical fences marking the cattle range. Yow! One such fence bit me and my empathetic companions doubled over in hysterical laughter when I yelped with pain. Very funny, guys, but I would have done no different had it been anybody else besides me shaking hands with Freddy Kilowatt.

Mist in the valley

Now on the East Boundary Ridge, the trail descended for the next 4 miles. "Descended" is a misleading term though, as there were a number of steep uphill pitches to surmount even though we were in theory losing elevation, but such are the trails in the North Bank. We enjoyed ample sunlight on the ridge while a thin and patchy mist still filled up the valleys below.

Scraggly oak, a common sight in the Habitat

Below us, the North Umpqua River glinted in the noonday sun as it perambulated around Whistlers Bend. The river was flanked by a patchwork quilt of bright green pastures and farms, a few of them bisected by the unerringly straight North Bank Road. A small herd of cattle flanked the trail and we "enjoyed" a nice view of how cattle poop gets made, where "enjoyed" means "not really". We made sure to step around the cow bombs on the trail and no boots were harmed in the hiking of this hike.

Trail atop East Ridge

Because of an illness in my family, I didn't do a lot of hiking early in the year and had grudgingly consigned myself to a lesser year, in terms of hiking miles; not that any of that mattered in the face of what we were dealing with. However, at the start of this hike, I was only a half-mile away from reaching 400 miles for the year. The final 2017 stats are 408.3 miles, 57 hikes, and a 7.2 mile per hike average, not too bad at all. This last hike in the North Bank left me cautiously optimistic for 2018 and let's all please enjoy a catastrophe-free 2018.

The North Umpqua River, as we descended

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

Create Routes or Search for a route from millions at MapMyHike

Blacktail Basin (North Bank Habitat)

The North Bank is like that old shirt you always wear. Sure, you have newer, shinier, less-holey shirts in your wardrobe, but you just have to wear that faded old thing because it's a long-time friend and it knows things about you. Being so close to Roseburg, the North Bank Deer Habitat is the go-to destination when more exotic and brightly colored trails are, for whatever reason, just not happening that day. And just like that old shirt, the North Bank does not complain about being second choice; it just takes its grassy hills and envelopes you in a forgiving and understanding trail embrace, although you do have to walk up steep trails as atonement for your infidelity. 

Willow catkin next to Jackson Creek

The Friends of the Umpqua had optimistically scheduled a hike for Boundary Springs in Crater Lake National Park, but with the winter we've had this year, not even Nanook of the North would deign to dog sled to the source of the Rogue River. So, Plan B was the ever reliable North Bank Habitat, that familiar old holey shirt of hiking destinations.

Six year old Emma was our youngest hiker

The hike from Soggy Bottoms up to North Boundary Ridge and then back down via Blacktail Basin is one of several standard loop hikes in the Habitat, but I'd never done it in reverse. Well, there's a first time for everything, and now was the time for my initial sortie up Blacktail Basin. It had been raining steadily when the club had gathered together at our Roseburg meeting place, but as we laced up our boots, the weather broke and we would get only intermittent sprinkles for the rest of the day. In fact, you could almost say it was sunny as the sun poked holes in the cloud cover while we stared in wonder at the blue sky overhead: I'm not sure when the last time blue sky was even seen in Roseburg, maybe October 2013?

Stately oak in a meadow

The walking was quite pleasant in the basin as clouds slowly lifted. The Habitat sports acres of regal oaks growing in grassy savannas. The oaks were leafless but not lifeless as leaf buds were just about to open. Also budding, regrettably, were the resplendent red leaves of poison oak which grew everywhere along the trail, effectively discouraging any off-trail exploration. Small birds, seemingly impervious to the plant's "wonderful" itchy properties, twittered merrily amongst themselves from within the maze of twiggy branches.

Boots were harmed in this hike

Jackson Creek burbled merrily next to the trail and we rock-hopped across it about halfway up the basin. Parts of the trail were quite muddy, a harbinger of things yet to come. The further we went up the basin, the nearer the wall of North Boundary Ridge. There are a number of steep trails that do foul things like head straight up the hills; many such trails were visible ahead as we walked. Ever the prankster, I pointed out those trails to the North Bank newbies in our group, telling them it was our destiny to hike up those trails. So much fun when they cry.

View down Blacktail Basin

Eventually, we ran out of flat-bottomed basin to hike in, so it was time to commence the climb up to North Boundary Ridge. Given the plethora of brutally steep trails in the Habitat, it was a pleasant surprise to find a kinder and gentler route to North Boundary Ridge. Always uphill but never overly so, we made steady progress to the top. The high ridges of the Habitat provide some of the best views that can be found on any trail, anywhere; we were not disappointed.

A fine spring day it was!

Inspiring vistas of Blacktail Basin's valley were duly appreciated by suitably awed hikers. Sun and shadows danced upon the grassy slopes flanking the basin and how could one not be impressed with the expansive panorama laid out before us? The trail, a jeep road, was overgrown with grass and with all the oaks equally spaced out on the grassy slopes, the whole vibe was pastoral and park-like.

Yuck!

Cattle graze in the Habitat and they do make use of the jeep road, their hooves and ponderous bulk quickly turn the road into a gooey mess of mud. While the views were great, the goo sucked at our boots as we made the tedious trudge through the muck and mire. The sticky clay soil clung to our soles and we lumbered along on platform boots like a bunch of Frankensteins, but with Gore-Tex and hiking poles.

Observing the local fauna

We ate lunch at Grumpy's Pond, where the only grumps were the herd of cattle that fled from our appearance at the small muddy body of water. When hiking resumed, we gave up on the cattle-churned trail and simply went overland through perfectly smooth grassy slopes until the trail presented itself in a more serviceable condition.

The Soggy Bottom Road contours the grassy hills

Once on the Soggy Bottom Road, the sun broke out for good and best of all, the trail contoured gently downhill all the way to the wet meadows of Soggy Bottom. The 7 mile loop hike was closed off with a hop across a flowing creek and a short walk thereafter. On this day, it was nice to hang out with our old friend the North Bank Habitat. After all, we could have been snowshoeing in the sleet and snow at Boundary Springs!

Just a hop, skip, and jump across a creek 

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

Create Routes or Search for a route from millions at MapMyHike