Cascade Gorge

Slated to lead a Friends of the Umpqua venture, I guess I was committed to a weekend hike. Because of my daughter's illness, I've been commuting between Roseburg and Portland and have not really done or thought too much about hiking. Nonetheless, this 9.6 miler did provide some welcome respite from harsh reality and in the end, I was pretty grateful to have honored the commitment.

Lane takes a photo op at Lost Creek Lake

However, the opportunity to feel glad about hiking on this particular February morning was quite literally, very much in the air. Incessant winter storms had been pummeling southern Oregon for weeks at a time and to no one's surprise. the Lost Creek Lake area was under a winter weather advisory. The weather forecast was ominously dire and more than likely, all the requisite travails and tribulations that a Richard Hike can entail were definitely in the offing.

Like frozen nose boogers

However, I am happy to report the forecast missed it entirely. While the roads were icy and snowy, at the trailhead it was just the opposite of predicted: the sun was out, blue skies floated overhead, and it looked like spring was coming. It didn't quite feel like spring was all that imminent though, as it was still cold enough to freeze nose boogers.

Walking in a winter wonderland

The route called for us to walk away from Lost Creek Lake and up the Rogue River arm of the lake. I had done this hike several years ago and the trail was level and easy, the very antithesis of a Richard Hike. But not to worry kids, this wound up being a Richard Hike after all, just keep reading. But for now, the hike began with a pleasant walk on a snow dusted trail winding its way underneath madrone and fir trees. It's somewhat incongruous to see madrone trees in snow as they tend to grow in drier, warmer, and more snow-free climes.

Simply a sublime day between storms

Anyway, the first couple of miles were a pleasant amble in the woods above the brightly colored lake. The Rogue River arm resembled a Scandinavian fjord flanked by steep and snow-dusted mountains with lake, forest, and mountains all reposing under a gloriously blue and cloudless sky. Hiking on the sunny side of the fjord as we were, we certainly enjoyed what felt like a fine spring morning. And speaking of spring, the diminutive flowers of snow queen carpeted the forest underneath the madrones in a lavender tinted farewell to winter. Life was good on the trail, what possibly could go wrong?

What possibly could go wrong?

Several things, as it turned out. About two miles into the hike, we had to clamber over our first fallen tree laying across the trail. Shortly thereafter, we carefully picked our way across the face of a rather large landslide that had taken out about 20 yards of trail. Soon there were more trees and more landslides. And at one notable juncture, there were dozens of trees and a landslide both. The clambering over trees became more tedious as we had to slither under and through them like ungainly possums, no more easy step-overs for us.

Damaged railings at Hole in the Ground Creek

There are a number of creeks crossing the trail and normally, bridges make it easy to cross over from one side to the other. However, it seemed like the creeks had been a magnet for falling trees and amazingly enough, all bridges remained intact despite the arboreal barrage. Most were severely wounded what with broken and bent railings and planks. The BLM has its work cut out for it if it wants to keep this trail open.

Rock formations at Cascade Gorge

However, this blog will brook no complaining about slides and trees because the scenery at Cascade Gorge was fantastic. The trail broke out into the open and went cliffy on the pinkish rock walls. Oregon sunshine, a bright yellow daisy-like flower, bloomed away in dense patches with the turquoise colored lake sparkling below the trail in the afternoon sun. Throw in snowy hillsides, blue skies, and some brilliant Oregon sunshine (the non-flower kind) and this was one colorful hike! 

Crossing a small creek on the return leg

Skookum Creek was the logical turnaround point, and Lane, Colby, Ezgi, and I ate lunch there, soaking in the sunshine as we sat in middle of all the winter storm debris littering the trail. We proudly represented the slower contingent of hikers as Edwin, John, and Rheo had already started back before us slowpokes had even sat down for lunch. Behind us, Skookum Creek provided a tremendous waterfall that would have been a major tourist attraction were it not for all the brush hiding the cascade from view. Not to mention all that fallen tree and landslide stuff, too.

Ezgi, you go first!

And what's more fun than scrabbling across shifting landslides and through fallen trees? Why, doing it again on the return leg, of course! There is some empirical data that I can offer as testament to the hike's difficulty. The hike only gained 700 feet over its 9.6 miles, yet it took us 6 hours and 16 minutes to complete the trek. That's 39 minute miles and rheumatic turtles walk faster than that. Not so empirically, I felt pretty tired at the end of the hike. However, the following day was again wild and stormy so it was nice to have snuck in a hike between winter tempests.

Cascade at Middle Creek

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

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Riverview Trail Loop

Sometimes, real life just gets in the way. At the end of January, a catastrophic illness suffered by my daughter Aislinn gave our family all the intrusion and reality one could ever not want. Naturally, hiking was not a priority during this ordeal but after several weeks, I took a temporary break from the whirring, beeping, and clicking of hospital machinery to hit the trail with my friends for some badly needed trail therapy.

Singing "Walk This Way" (Thanks Jesi, for that line)

One of Douglas County's many attractions is the North Umpqua Highway, an incredibly scenic and curvy road linking Diamond Lake and Roseburg. However, prior to 1964, travel to Diamond Lake took place on gravel North Umpqua Road. Whew, 70-plus miles of gravel road, that certainly was not a casual trip! Naturally, with the construction of the paved North Umpqua Highway in 1964, the old road sort of disappeared, either paved over by the new highway, consigned to the USFS forest road system, or simply swallowed up by the forest.

My people

An otherwise abandoned section of the old road now does duty as the Riverview Trail, currently delighting hikers and mountain bikers alike. The Riverview Trail generally stays high above the river and in places, provides even better views than the North Umpqua Trail on the other side of the river. The planned route on this Friends of the Umpqua hike was to follow the Riverview Trail to Fall Creek Falls for a moderate 8'ish mile hike. However, I had a lot of stress to work off so my plan was to depart the Riverview Trail at Bogus Creek Campground and return by way of the Mott Segment of the North Umpqua Trail for a more reasonable 12 mile hike. Mileage-addicted friends Lane and Kevin agreed to accompany me on the longer loop with dog Wish likewise agreeing to come along. 

Basaltic cliffs above the trail

The weather has been awful this winter but it was a rare sunny day that presented itself for this venture. The Riverview Trail is on the north side of the river so we actually walked in sunlight, a rare and wondrous occasion. Of course, the sunlight was for show only, as noses still ran in the wintry chill. The trail wasted no time in climbing a hundred feet or so above the river but once the altitude was gained, the path remained happily level for the most part.

Boots got wet at Alder Creek

Cliffs and basaltic pillars rose above the trail and moss filled in all the cracks in the imposing rock walls.  There was a large blue thing overhead and somebody thought it might actually be sky. I didn't think so because everybody knows the sky is gray. Occasionally, we enjoyed views down to the river and to the snow-dusted hills above. With all the recent rains, a fair number of creeks ran across the trail and boots got wet as we waded across. The route was open and exposed for the most part and we really enjoyed the delightful sensation of sunlight on skin.

So dark and cold at the bottom of the canyon

At approximately the four mile mark, Lane, Kevin, and I bid adieu to our friends and peeled off the Riverview, taking a path down to Bogus Creek Campground, currently closed for the winter. With a chorus of "Me, too!" we were joined by eager and naive newcomers Ezgi, Levi, and Ana. Welcome to a Richard Hike, kids! 

Where there is water, there is dog

A short road walk along the North Umpqua Highway delivered us to Wright Creek Bridge and just like that, we were on the other side of the river, ready to begin hiking on the Mott Segment of the North Umpqua Trail. We'd now be hiking on a real trail with dirt and everything, unlike the wide gravelly doubletrack of the Riverview Trail. It wasn't all happy miles however, as we were now on the shady south side of the river and the air was icy cold. Not much sun gets down to the bottom of the river canyon and mittens and extra layers of clothing were soon donned.

Fisher C

It was a pleasant six miles on the Mott, which spends most of its miles close to river level. I played professor to our three novices and had them all chewing on fragrant wild ginger leaves before long. At Fisher Creek, I pointed out Zane Grey's Camp and asked "Do you know who Zane Grey is?" With blank looks, the guesses I received in response were "Our new Vice-President? A Marvel Comic Book hero? Plays for the Chicago Cubs?" Sigh. The correct answer by the way is "...the world famous author who wrote novels of the American West". I'm glad nobody asked me what a novel was.

Small creek, large waterfall

About nine miles in, the bridge at Steamboat Creek hove into view on the other side of the river. Our car was parked there and it was so cruel to see the end of the hike so near but yet so far. We still had three miles of hiking to go because the trail crossed the river on the historic Mott Bridge, several miles upstream. It was here or thereabouts that I realized I had lost a little bit of my hiking trim with the month-long layoff. I perhaps should have eased back into the 12 mile thing instead of jumping all in at once.  

Sun on the North Umpqua

It was a pretty tired bunch that staggered to the finish, excepting Wish maybe. But on the plus side, I slept very well that night and it was nice to divest some stress and worry on a restorative hike.

The sun was so near, yet so far away

For more pictures, please visit the Flicker album.

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Bastendorff Bog Trail

Herein lies a tale of two hikes. Accordingly, I tried to find a quote from Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities" that I could meld to a hiking metaphor but alas, none seemed to fit. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" Nah! Anyway, this is a two-hike blog entry because I hiked the Bastendorff Bog Trail two weekends in a row: once to scout the route and once to lead the Friends of the Umpqua on the actual hike. 

Lots of secret beaches on this part of the Oregon coast

Oregon had been pummeled by a series of snow storms and that made for an interesting drive over to the coast on both weekends. Where there was shade on the highway, ice was guaranteed to scare the daylights out of drivers. Snow was everywhere and the small town of Camas Valley in the Coast Range looked like some kind of ski resort. It was a slow drive on the first trip out which became even slower on Seven Devils Road which was dangerously slippery on its hilly curves. The following weekend, the snow had melted but the ice remained and if anything, the windy road had gotten icier. As my Jeep danced around on the treacherous road with me working the steering wheel back and forth like a NASCAR race driver, I couldn't help but notice all conversation in my car ceased, not sure why that was. However, despite the icy road conditions on both weekends, the weather was gloriously sunny but cold. One out of two is not bad, unless it's your grade on a calculus pop quiz. 

You can't handle the freedom!

On the scout trip, I was accompanied by Luna the Hiking Dog, and I slipped off her leash and let her run on the beach in 27 degree weather. After a 45 minute chase with much yelling and screaming on my part, I finally caught her and she remained leashed for the duration of the day. Luna simply could not handle the freedom, just like my wife.  In case you are wondering, I typed that with Dollie out of the room, I'm pretty brave that way. Anyway, once the recalcitrant dog was properly leashed, we hiked the length of Bastendorff Beach to a secluded cove.

I know just how that seaweed feels

When I had hiked here with the South Coast Striders a year ago, a rope-aided descent down a muddy track took us from the shoreline cliffs down to the cove. I tried to go up but the muddy track was now an icy track and when Luna could not get traction even with her natural crampons and 4-wheel drive, we backtracked to the kinder and gentler trail above the Bastendorff Beach campground.

Secluded cove

At the south end of Bastendorff Beach is Yoakam Point, a geological finger poking the soft blue underbelly of the Pacific Ocean. The views from the point are pretty awesome and I enjoyed looking at Bastendorff Beach arcing to the Coos Bay jetty while Luna enjoyed treats and a pat on the head. To the south was Gregory Point (an island, really) with Cape Arago Lighthouse reposing on top.

Snow?  Really? On the coast?

From Yoakam Point, we crossed Cape Arago Highway and entered a coastal forest comprised of spruce with a healthy undergrowth consisting mostly of salal and coastal huckleberry. There still was snow here and there on the ground. While the patches of snow were as weak and thin as jailhouse soup, it still was somewhat jarring to see snow on the coast, that hardly ever happens. Also jarring in a way, was the temperature. While the beach and point were fairly chilly, walking in the forest was like walking inside an icebox. It was much colder under the trees although Luna did not seem to mind. I did.

Boardwalk that wants to hurt me

We arrived at Sunset Bay Campground by skating across a slick and icy boardwalk that really wanted to hurt us. The campground roads were almost too icy to walk on, with traction fleeting and ephemeral. I called it good there and headed back, glad to return to Roseburg while there still remained some daylight.

Rachel ponders the mystery of life

A week later, 11 of us braved Seven Devils Road and set out onto the beach strand at Bastendorff Beach. The sand was frozen and was like concrete in the shady parts but the day would warm up to nearly 50 degrees. It felt like spring!

The tip of Yoakam Point

I was bringing up the rear of the group and John was in front and since he had never been on this route before, we wandered aimlessly (until I caught up to him) through the unofficial maze of trails atop Yoakam Point. Generally, we followed the edge of the coastal cliffs but once we hit the homes and back yards above Lighthouse Beach, we backtracked to the proper route with me in front this time. On the plus side, we wound up enjoying views of a coastal segment none of us had ever seen before.

Sunset Bay, from the longer hike

The boardwalk at Sunset Bay Campground was not icy any more but was still dangerously slippery. We all crossed safely by taking mincing little baby steps. After eating lunch with a nice view of Sunset Bay, we split up into two groups as some hikers wanted to get some extra mileage in and some were happy with the basic 7 mile route. Us long-loopers continued on the coastal trail and enjoyed views of the spectacular coastline in the Cape Arago area. On a clifftop section of trail with nice views to Shore Acres, Sunset Bay, the Cape Arago Lighthouse, and Qochyax Island, we turned around and headed back.

This is how we get down!

Edwin, Lane, and I were the only takers on the rope-aided descent down the muddy track to the secret cove. The only problem was, the rope was no longer there and some use of hands was required to make the descent without involuntarily sliding down to the bottom. From there, it was the mile long walk along the beach under a sinking sun. Thus ends our tale of two hikes and "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done" Nope, Charles Dickens just doesn't have any good quotes for hiking blogs!

Bastendorff Beach, at the end of the hike

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flicker albums. Here is the link to the scouting trip and this is the link to the group hike.

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North Bank Habitat (West Loop)

On the last day of 2016. it was time to put this turbulent and strange year to rest and what better way to do that than to go out for a hike in the North Bank Habitat? Of course, 2016 could have been the best year ever and I would have still posed the same rhetorical question. So perhaps, the end of the year is just another irrelevant correlation to hiking, much like how I hike every February 5th to celebrate Shower with a Friend Day. And yes, there really is such a day, just in case you were wondering or maybe if you needed an excuse to shower with a friend at least once a year.  At any rate, the Friends of the Umpqua were hiking in the North Bank and I decided to go along.

Trail on top of the world

Actually, I'd been having a backpacking itch lately but the weather had been extremely wet and not particularly conducive to happy backpacking. I'd almost worked myself up to the point where I'd do it, rain or no rain, and meet everybody on the North Boundary Ridge, but the weather report said snow was coming and the temps were dropping to the mid 20's. Day hiking was looking pretty good after all! I was recounting this to my hiking buddies and Jennifer said "There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes!" To which I replied "Hey, no fair using my quotes against me!"

Nice little glade on the climb up

The dozen or so hikers doing this hike were all donned in various layers of clothing, hats, and gloves designed to keep cold at bay as it was fairly nipply at the start. The trails of the habitat are generally wet and muddy, especially in the lowlands, and today was no exception as we enjoyed a pleasantly level walk along the misnamed Chasm Creek. At the intersection with the Bear Tree Trail, our group split up into two based on the preferred degree of difficulty of the hike. Guess which group I went with!

If you like oaks, then the North Bank is your place!

All that cold chilly morning was soon forgotten as the Bear Tree Trail charged straight up to the top of the North Boundary Ridge. That makes the Bear Tree Trail no different than about 90% of all the other trails in the North Bank, but that's just me whining. At any rate, everybody soon peeled off clothing layers as we chugged up the steep hills of the Habitat.

The upper branches of the Bear Tree

About halfway through the climb, a huge madrone tree known as Bear Tree provided a nice opportunity to admire the size of the orange trunked giant. Also, it was a nice stop to pretend to appreciate the size of the tree while simultaneously catching your breath and letting the pain subside in burning leg muscles.

"Are you guys OK?"

Jeremy tried to get his dog Stella to climb up Bear Tree for a photo but she was having none of it. While we walked 7.8 miles, Stella probably walked 20 miles because she was not steepness-challenged and she'd run up a hill and then run back down to see what was taking us so long. "Humans are so slow" she mused, pondering all the while how humans became the dominant life form on this planet.

Why we hike

As we got up onto the North Boundary Ridge, the leafless oaks thinned out and the views astounded. The North Bank is fairly low-elevation, beginning at 600 feet by the North Umpqua River and topping out at 1900 feet atop Round Timber. But it really feels like you are on top of the world, rivalling Mount Everest in altitude because the grassy slopes drop away from your feet and provide wide and expansive panoramas of river bends, creek valleys, and rolling hills as far as the eye can see. With such a gorgeous view, much photography ensued and Jeremy and I lagged behind as a result.

Bad uphill trail!

Despite reaching the northern ridge of the Habitat, there was plenty of steep trail still to be doled out as the route went up and down and never level on the ridge. All the bad uphill ended (for the most part!) at the 4 mile mark where Middle Ridge intersected with the North Boundary Ridge. Middle Ridge basically bisects the Habitat and would be our route back down to river level.

View to Whistler's Bend

One of the things I enjoy about hiking down Middle Ridge, besides going downhill, is that you hike for several miles staring down at the North Umpqua River glinting in the afternoon sunlight. The river is flanked by pastured farmlands and Whistlers Bend's horseshoe shape is eminently notable. The day was semi-sunny and the leafless oaks were all draped with old man's beard contrasting nicely with a light blue sky. But mostly, it was the downhill aspect to Middle Ridge that gladdened my heart.

Scott Mountain makes a mid-day appearance

After the hike was over, we regrouped at Lois's house where were fed fine pozole and chicken soup. The hike had been a great way to close out 2016 and I could hardly wait until the next hike which would be on January 6th. What better way to celebrate National Bean Day? By the way, National Bean Day is also National Cuddle Up Day but I'm choosing to celebrate National Bean Day because the traditional way of celebrating National Cuddle Up Day generally is not conducive to good hiking.

Trail on the "gentle" and rolling hills of the Habitat

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

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North Umpqua Trail - Mott Segment

It sure seems like I've been hiking on the North Umpqua a lot, lately. It's time to go somewhere else, isn't it? Lane thought so too, and he was leading a Friends of the Umpqua hike up the North Fork Willamette River so sign me up! However, winter decided we needed yet another hike on the North Umpqua Trail. You see, the weekend prior to the scheduled North Fork hike, Lane was unable to reach the trailhead due to snow covering the forest road. Ok, so a Plan B was quickly cobbled together and the McKenzie River Trail was penciled in as a substitute. But nooo...the relentless winter storms dumped snow on that too. Eventually, surrender-monkey Lane waved a snowy white flag of acquiescence and picked the low-elevation (and more importantly, snow-free!) Mott Segment of the North Umpqua Trail.

Fisher Creek crosses the North Umpqua Trail

A small but enthusiastic group of 8 hikers showed up to brave the winter elements on the North Umpqua River. It was cold at the meeting place in Roseburg but it was colder yet at the trailhead: 24 degrees, to be exact. Down jackets, mittens, gloves, and knit caps were the gear du jour at the start and all hiking participants were most eager to commence the hike and stave off frostbite.

Leaf art on a stump

Despite the cold, there was not a lot of ice on the trail, somewhat surprising when you consider the North Umpqua River is perennially shady and cold on the south side of the river. Also surprising, there were campers still asleep at the primitive campground near the trailhead. It was surprising they were camping, not that they were still asleep, just to clarify. Anyway, seeing the campers reminded me that Dollie and I winter camped once. Just once.

The mighty North Umpqua

Much of the North Umpqua Trail tends to be on cliffs 100 feet above the river but the Mott Segment stays at river level for most of its miles. Periodically, Lane and I would bushwhack down to the river's shore to take pictures of the opaque waters rushing by the trail, The river was running wider than normal and like me, was quite impressive to stand close to!

White on top, just like me!

On our periodic forays to the river's edge, we noticed the mountains on the north side were bathed in sunlight. On top of the mountains, the trees were all frosted with snow causing Lane to posit the riddle "What do those mountains and Richard have in common?" Lane...my buddy. Anyway, we were peevishly jealous of any northsiders hiking over there in the sun. Not warm sun to be sure, but we still would have welcomed the psychological warmth a winter sun provides.

Proof it was cold

There is a section of trail that hugs the base of a cliff right next to a tranquil stretch of river. This particular piece of the Mott Segment is paved over with concrete designed to preserve the trail for the mountain bikers, as I imagine the river can cover it up after a good storm. I also say it was for mountain bikers because nobody cares about hikers struggling through on muddy trails (he said, with a just a trace of bitterness).  Here it was icy on the trail, and we carefully walked on the treacherous and slippery concrete. Below a cliff festooned with small icicles, were leafless bushes totally encased in ice. Much photography ensued and once again, Lane and I were bringing up the rear while our cameraless friends continued on.

Mushrooms were everywhere, in spite of the cold

An interesting moment on this hike was when a mysterious supernatural drumming sound reverberated throughout the forest: Boom...boom...boom. The beat was quite rhythmic and my first thought was that we were about to have a profound encounter with spirits of native drummers past. Alas, the drumming had a more mundane, but still interesting origin. A tree had fallen and the base had wedged itself between two trees while the upper portion of the tree dangled in the water. The treetop was bouncing in the river's current and water gurgled where the tree met river. When conditions were just right, about every fifth gurgle, the gurgling made a loud "glunk" sound which then carried through the tree trunk like a giant tuning fork. Nature's amplified subwoofer at work, and how cool was that?

Fisher Creek, at Zane Grey's Camp

A number of named creeks crossed the trail and it goes without saying, a larger number of unnamed creeks crossed the trail. John unsuccessfully tried to convince us that John Creek was named after him but we weren't buying it. The most notable creek was Fisher Creek because it was at Fisher Creek that the famed author Zane Grey camped and fished out of the North Umpqua. A small campsite and commemorative sign mark the spot. As a test, we asked the younger thirty-something members of our party if they had ever heard of Zane Grey and the response was "Doesn't he play for the Seahawks?" and "I think he starred in Titanic" Lane set them straight with "No, he was the Village People dude wearing the cowboy hat". Sigh.

Large cascade on the North Umpqua

When the historic Mott Bridge came into view, that was our cue that this frozen hike was about to end. This hike had been set up as a shuttle which meant that one car had to return to the starting trailhead and then all cars would come back to pick up all hikers. In theory, this meant that there should be a small contingent of hikers waiting at the trailhead for the cars to return. So, it was a little disconcerting when Lane and I finally arrived and there was nobody there. A momentary panic set in as we wondered if everybody else had continued onto the Panther Segment, not realizing they were to stop hiking here. Or maybe they had enough of our incessant stream of bad jokes and atrocious puns. "See, Lane? I told you nobody likes that joke about the one-legged kangaroo!" Fortunately, they were all exploring the nearby Mott Bridge and that should teach us to take less pictures, hike faster, and shut up more. But then again, probably not.

Always the river

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

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