Only 4 other hikers showed up for this hike. There was a reason for the low turnout, mainly the weather, so I didn’t feel like no one likes me, which may be true. We had sleet, snow, hail, rain, wind, cold and oddly enough, sun and warmth. If you don’t like the weather in Oregon, just wait a few minutes!
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neill’s blog, Richard Hikes
A dozen or so hikers did some sand walking on this spring day on Tahkenitch Dunes. Some clouds, some sun, and a little sand in the boots made for an excellent combination of elements, which always reminds hikers they are on the Oregon coast!
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neill’s blog, Richard Hikes
March 19th turned out to be a typical spring day in southern Oregon… “If you don’t like the weather now, just wait, it will change”. Sure enough, that was the case!
After meeting up in Roseburg, we traveled south on I-5 to Wolf Creek and onto Graves Creek boat launch and the beginning of the Rouge River Wilderness Trail. The hike consisted of a 7 mile out and back from the landing to the historic Whiskey Creek Cabin along the Rouge River.
Jackets on, jackets off, rain gear on, rain gear off… that seemed to be the theme of the day, but it did not dampen the beauty of the scenery or the enthusiasm of the hikers! Early spring wildflowers covered the hillsides in some areas, while the river provided a wonderful array of views, rapids and sounds of rushing water.
During the hike we encountered a sighting of a bald eagle, a spectacular rainbow spanning the river and the interesting history of the Whiskey Creek cabin.
It was another awesome day, surrounded by the wonders of nature and the camaraderie of Friends of the Umpqua!
Mt. Pisgah… Mt. Pisgah? It’s kind of a weird name. Upon investigation, the word literally means, “summit”. That’s just what we did, summit a 1,500 foot mount. Mt. Pisgah, by the way, is located in the Howard Buford recreation area just outside of Eugene.
As is our habit, a group of old and new hikers met at the courthouse parking lot ready for adventure. As the hike leader, I provided a map complete with digital map options and written driving directions to the trailhead. For this hike we were to start at the southeast trailhead off of Ridgeway Rd. near Pleasant Hill. It was up to everyone to get there by themselves, as it seemed pretty simple. However, Kyle and George’s phone wasn’t working quite right, so they took a 30-mile detour! Not really knowing what was going on, and not wanting to wait too long for them, the main group started off. What would Richard or Lane have done? Michael stayed behind to wait for them until he reached them by phone. It was agreed we would meet at the summit of Mt. Pisgah.
On this brisk, clear spring day, we headed off using trail # 2 all the way to the summit. This section of the hike was the hardest, as we were summiting a mount after all! We were not disappointed with our efforts, as even with some mid- level clouds, the views were magnificent! We took photos, grabbed some water and a snack. However, still no Kyle or George. We decided to press on. What would Richard or Lane have done? Neither one of them are here!
Downhill on to trail #4. A long downhill through lush vegetation and tall trees on a well maintained wide trail. This trail loops around to the northwest side of the recreation area, where it intersects with trail #3. We took this trail to Swing Hill, and fjust as the name suggests, there is a swing in a giant tree. Shannon took advantage of this swing. The rest of us took advantage of the bench situated under the tree, or used branches as seats on the ground to enjoy our lunch while taking in the westerly views.
Michael was able to reach George by phone from here. They were just at the summit of Mt. Pisgah and it was agreed they would just “do their own thing” and not try to catch up with the rest of us.
After lunch we headed out on trail #3 all the way back, practically to the trailhead. This trail is an easy/moderate traverse across the western slope of Mt. Pisgah. This section was a bit muddy and slippery since it had been raining a few days prior to our hike. The trail wound its way around to the south side of the hill affording us beautiful views of the farms below. A pleasant little creek crossing greeted us a short distance before it connected back to trail #2, which was the trail we started out on.
This whole route clocked in at about 7.5 miles. All in all, it was a terrific day of hiking with old and new friends.
“What do you have to do to lead a hike?”, I had asked Lane and Richard. “Just don’t lose anybody”, they said.
“Oh that’s easy enough”, I say to myself. Not so! Kyle and George had trouble finding the trailhead, initially. Thanks go out to them for being good sports about it all. I think they enjoyed the day of hiking despite, being “lost”.
In the 1850’s Jacksonville was a thriving gold rush town, and the nearby hillsides were pockmarked with mines. Today, some of those mines are still accessible, but only to those who lay their hiking boots onto the steep trails in Forest Park just outside of town. Although the mines are now blocked with metal gates, one can still peer into the darkness and imagine what it must have felt like to explore these dusky caves that held precious metals.
The trails here can baffle the most educated trail master, and without a trail map you will be dazed and confused by the decisions you must make as to what trails to take. I was struggling to come up a hike to lead at the previous club meeting. I’m now certain that when Richard suggested this one for me, that he was pulling a cruel joke on me. Or, at the very least, testing my navigation skills. So, it was with due diligence that we scheduled a pre-hike with Medford hiking pal Glenn, who knew the trails well. I was feeling a tad under the weather the day of the pre-hike, so Richard and Glenn went by themselves. They were kind enough to take meticulous notes, and I used those notes extensively when I eventually pre hiked the trails myself a week before the scheduled club hike.
On a chilly but clear blue-sky morning, we had no less than 16 hikers gather up at the starting point. I then proceeded to form three hiking teams. The faster hikers, Team Eagle, would follow Glenn. I would lead the monkeys in the middle, aptly named Team Monkey. And Richard would be in the rear leading Team Turtle. After ceremoniously handing out team name labels for everyone to adorn their chests with, we set out on our adventure.
Our route began along Jackson Creek. As we headed up along the creek, it soon became apparent to those who had not been here before as to why they were playing follow-the-leader: Within the first mile there are no less than eight trail intersections that would befuddle the uninitiated. Although detailed trail maps are available and the trail is well signed, its way too easy for new hikers to hesitate at each and every intersection and wonder which route to take. And this is why we pre-hike, boys and girls.
As Glenn, whose radio callsign was Eagle Eye, led his eagles swiftly up the path, trail sweeper Missy, aka Eagle Claw, ensured no little eaglets strayed off course. Except for the time Shannon left her hiking poles back at a bridge, no other oopsies would take place the remainder of the hike.
With my callsign of Monkey See, I entrusted Monkey Do, otherwise known as Rheo, to see that none of the monkeys monkeyed around and got lost. Sadly, I had only brought one banana for myself, leaving the rest of my troop to forage for their own food.
The much smaller group of Team Turtle, led by Turtle Head, consisted of only Richard, Chuck and Michael. It was determined before the hike that the trail sweeper role, which would’ve been Turtle Back, was not required for the small team. Going at a slower pace, Richard does what Richard does, which is photography. Looking back now, his callsign should’ve been Snapping Turtle.
And to no one’s surprise, this hike would be filled with a multitude of animal puns, jokes, and jabs. Yep, we were really behaving like animals by the time we were done.
We transitioned from following Jackson Creek to hiking alongside Norling Creek. Heading up, we took the Shade Creek Trail and eventually connected with the Atsahu Trail. All teams met at our first rendezvous point, the Norling Mine. From here, it was easy walking down what was really an old road. A few more trail junctions and we were at Twin Peaks Saddle. From here, the trail up to Upper Twin Peak is only 1/3 of a mile, but deceptively steep. Team Eagle, in usual fashion, was at the top in no time at all, while Teams Monkey and Turtle slowly trudged their way up the sheer path, stopping to catch a breath every few hundred feet or so.
A well-deserved lunch break was in order at the top, with hikers from each team catching glimpses of Mount McLaughlin off to the east, rising above the valley floor. With all the eagles, monkeys and turtles gathered in one spot, it was like attending a triple-header rock concert. (See what I did there?)
After the animals were fed, it was time to herd them downhill. The trail heading down took us past El Patron Madrone, an impressively huge madrone tree, and then through Mountain Mahogany Meadow. We hit the Owl Hoot, Boulder, and Ol’ Miners’ trails before arriving at the Handsome Mine. Here, everyone got to peek into the dark mine and get some photos with themselves next to, of course, the Handsome Mine sign. After posing for a group photo, the teams continued down the trail, eventually coming out at the road which we drove in on. A short walk along Jackson Creek again brought us back to our starting point.
All in all, this turned out to be a lighthearted hike, and everyone enjoyed the animal-themed event. I’m a believer that Team Monkey had fun, Team Eagle lived life in the fast lane, and Team Turtle was happy together.
Disclaimer: Although reactions to my bad puns during the hike may have hurt me, no animals were harmed in the making of this hike.
This was my first attempt to lead a hike. I had been challenged to lead a hike, as I attend many of the hikes and look forward to them. I had hiked from Sunset Bay to Shore Acres many, many years ago and have wanted to go back again, but had not. And so, I thought if I choose this hike then this would get it off my bucket list.
Thanks to Richard O’Neill for offering information about the trail condition. He had contacted a friend from the Southcoast Striders club, who reported trail closure on the portion of the trail that went by the WWll Bunkers due to trees across the trail. But the lower leg going out to Cape Arago was open.
We left Roseburg with 14 hikers, and 4 others said they would join us at Sunset Bay. The Southcoast Striders asked if they could join us and showed up with 13, making a group of 31 eager souls wanting to see the beautiful foamy, jagged coast line, along with what could be seen on the horizon.
As with any hike on the coast during the winter, the weather is always of concern. As it turned out, it was a wonderful sunny day, with a little breeze. A heavy shirt or light jacket day.
I was trying to figure out how I was going to lead this hike, as there were many who knew the trail better than I, so I pointed at the trail head and gave the instructions to take your time, plan on eating lunch at Cape Arago and “Have Fun.” And away they went. I ended up not leading the hike, but was the last one, with everyone ahead of me. I was not too concerned, for how could you get lost on this hike? Too far in either direction and you either run into the road or fall into the ocean.
As we climbed up to the view points over looking Sunset Bay, the large group of hikers had spread out into several smaller groups. Some groups moved right along while others took their time drinking it all in. The tide was low and going out, making everything seem calm. On the horizon there was a large ship that seemed to be anchored, perhaps waiting for particular conditions before crossing the bar into Coos Bay. There were a couple of small fishing boats out on the water. Cape Arago Light House shined in the sun. Those that like to take pictures had many opportunities, always trying to capture the moment.
The trail skirted around cliffside edges, overlooking the rocks and ocean below. It took us to Shore Acres, and then down past Simpson Beach and to Seal Lion View Point where elephant seals could be seen and heard. Many strained the horizon to see a whale spout, but none could be seen today. We crossed the road and followed the trail that would take us to Cape Arago. When we arrived at the picnic area, the faster hikers were already sitting around tables, enjoying each other’s company, the view, and the nice warm sun, all while having lunch.
On the return trip it was noticeable that the tide had changed and was headed in. Waves were now starting to crash, throwing foamy water into the air. That is what we like to see along the rugged Oregon Coast. That is what makes this hike a favorite for many: White, foamy waves crashing into the air, seals and sea lions, sea gulls floating in the air, the possibility of seeing a whale, ships on the ocean. To be enjoying the outdoors, breathing and relishing the scenery with friends, some of them new, and some we had not seen for a while. It was a good day to be on the coast, and everyone most certainly had “Fun.”
Last summer, I explored the Siltcoos River along the Waxmyrtle Trail. While trudging through nearly a mile of deep, soft sand where every step felt like 10, I thought to myself, hey, I bet this would make a great club hike! Actually, the Waxmyrtle trail which meanders along the river is quite pretty. And tying a beach walk into the whole thing appealed to the side of my brain which likes to create hikes that the club will thank me for later. Or hate me for, depending on how much they like hiking in deep, soft sand. And they thought my trail puns were bad!
There was a chill in the air when the 15 of us arrived at the Stagecoach trailhead south of Florence near the Siltcoos River. With clear skies above us, we began our hike with a casual stroll on the Lagoon Trail which circles Lagoon campground along the shores of Siltcoos Lagoon. I don’t know for certain, but I’m pretty sure not a lot of thought went into naming the aforementioned lagoon-themed places. At any rate, it was just a short warmup to get the blood flowing in preparation for the rest of the hike.
After the lagoon loop, a short walk across the bridge led us to the beginning of the Waxmyrtle Trail which starts near, you guessed it, the Waxmyrtle campground. The trail runs along the riverbank for a short distance before a steep set of stairs leads hikers to several birds eye views of the river from above. After a short distance, the trail takes an abrupt turn away from the river and spits hikers out onto a sand-filled access road heading towards the beach.
This is the part of the trail that last summer gave me the cruel inspiration to create this hike, as this was the “deep soft sand” portion of the hike. However, much to my surprise, nature’s elements had created just the right amount of rain to sand ratio to form a rather pleasant solid surface for boots to tread upon. No one else, with the exception of my wife who braved the initial sand trials with me last summer, would appreciate the ease at which they propelled themselves along this portion of the trail. At least the fear of an angry crowd hating me for making them struggle through deep sand had abated. But there was still that bad pun thing hanging out there…
Upon arriving at the beach, we gathered up and headed south. With the sun glinting off the beach and a light breeze in the air, it was difficult to accept that it was January on the Oregon coast. However, I have experienced so many pleasant January days on the coast that I’m convinced that, in regards to the weather, it is probably one of the best times of the year to visit. Just keep an eye on the forecast and schedule accordingly!
A mile walk down the beach and we had arrived at our next leg of the journey, the Carter Dunes Trail, which would take us inland. One stretch of the trail was like walking through a tunnel, with trees encroaching overhead, giving it a somewhat creepy but cool appearance. Again, the trail was quite comfortable to walk on and nary a grumble was heard. That was, until we had to climb several short dunes. Here, there were no trees to shade the sun’s rays from drying out the sand, and the soft sinking feeling under hiking boots did not go unnoticed. Thankfully, the hills were short-lived and yours truly was spared from an unceremonious burial under the dunes. Ok, so it must be time for a bad trail pun…
Inspired by all the sand surrounding us, I found myself blurting out a pun only my hiking buddy Richard would appreciate: What do you call a naked woman lying on the beach? Sandy! As the visions of head-shaking and the sounds of loud groans reverberated through my head, thoughts of that unceremonious sand burial quickly surfaced. I do believe that was my first and last pun of the day.
By this time, most hikers had shed their heavy jackets due to the warming air and the fact that we had just completed the ‘hard’ part of the hike, which was really not that bad. The trail dropped us out into Carter Lake campground, which was closed for the winter. We walked on pavement towards the trailhead near Hwy 101 and proceeded onto the Taylor Dunes Trail. This trail makes a loop around a coastal forest and eventually loops back to the Carter Dunes Trail. We were now on a reverse course back towards the beach where it was decided we would break for lunch.
All hikers dutifully found a log to sit upon, as is the proper protocol when one prepares to dine on the beach. Conversations ensued about how nice the weather was, how peaceful the ocean looked, and how the sounds of the waves breaking upon the shore can put most of us to sleep. The scene was tranquil and relaxing, and if it wasn’t for the fact that we had to eventually get back to our vehicles, I believe many of us would’ve just laid there on the beach for hours until the high tide came and swept us out to sea. Alas, we packed up and made our way north along the shoreline.
In typical fashion, John walked barefoot in the shallows along the ocean’s edge as we slowly made our way up the beach, each of us kind of lost in our own dreamy state of a coastal trance. The old adage of “I love long walks on the beach” truly holds up on days like these.
With the beach walk behind us, everyone headed back inland on the Waxmyrtle Trail, arriving at our vehicles in the midafternoon sun, completing this 7-mile club-worthy hike. Breathing a sigh of relief, I was grateful that bad puns hadn’t ruined the hike. And, that I wasn’t buried unceremoniously in the sand.
Last year, in my never-ending quest to find a trail I’ve never hiked on, I wound up on a section of the Oregon Coast Trail that ran from Humbug Mountain State Park to a rather nondescript trailhead between the park’s campground and the nearby town of Port Orford. Part of the route was comprised of a decommissioned segment of the old Highway 101. As happens when I find a new trail, a club hike is sure to follow and so it came to be that 14 hikers followed me (even though I was hiking at my usual place in rear of the hiking queue) onto the trail.
The area had been pummeled by high winds the week prior to this day so I fully expected to find an entire forest of dead trees covering the trail. But my fears turned out to be groundless because the forest was still standing. The only sign of the past winds were small branches, leaves, and conifer needles strewn about the trail. The first half of the hike was through a woods comprised of myrtle and as always with these trees, the laurel-like scent from the leaves was intoxicating, particularly as the air underneath the trees was imbued with that very scent.
The trail followed Brush Creek for a bit before charging up and over a wooded ridge. Just about when the complaining about the grade was to start, the trail headed downhill, and all was harmonious between hikers and hike leader.
The second half of the hike was on the historic highway, and we traded dirt path for old pavement. The grade was uphill but mildly so and mottled sunlight reached us hiking on the pavement. There were a number of seasonal creeks and runoffs flowing across (underneath, in culverts, actually) the trail. The historic highway segment is 2.8 miles long, but we wouldn’t go that far (except for Brad, who missed the trail to the viewpoint where we ate lunch). At that viewpoint, we enjoyed a magnificent vista consisting of Port Orford Head, Humbug Mountain, a collection of islands known as Redfish Rocks, and the Pacific Ocean shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.
The sun dipped behind Humbug Mountain on the way back and the woods became cold and dimly lit. Twilight comes early in these parts, apparently. But now, 14 other members of our club can say they hiked this section of the Oregon Coast Trail so now I must find another new trail upon which to drag my friends upon.
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neill’s blog, Richard Hikes
Imagine a hiking world, a world where the downhill stretches are making you breath hard. A world where you are praying to mush through muddy cattle tracks. A world where a practical joker running down the trail and yelling STOP! STOP! makes you automatically think someone has had a heart attack or broken a leg. Yes, you have entered the ‘Worst Hike Ever’ zone.
What started as a Christmas replacement hike with a tongue in cheek about being the worst hike ever, turned into an epic journey into the frozen, wild, wilderness of the North Bank Habitat.
I knew this hike would not be pretty. I figured the total uphill of Power Line Trail to the beginning of the Muddy East Boundary Trail would be enough to keep most ‘Sane’ hikers from starting their New Year off on the wrong foot. (get it?) But imagine to my surprise 14 crazy people wanted to spend the day after New Year’s Eve starting resolutions that may soon be afterthoughts.
The mood was jovial as we met to head to our destination. The forecast was no precipitation, and a chance of sunshine. As we headed towards our destination most of us were taken aback by the site of a white snow-covered monolith in the distance. Surely our hike was at a much lower altitude and besides the sun was shining on some of the peaks already. As we pulled into the parking lot there was much gusto about hitting the trail.
Starting up the Power Line, everyone was determined to have a great New Year’s Day as the sun was going to be warming us, the trail was icy but welcoming. After about a mile of steady climbing we started to get into some deeper snow, but the cattle had their muddy paths that most of us figured were better than the shallow post holes we were slogging through. Everyone seemed to be up to the challenge ahead as we climbed ever higher.
The views challenged the most picturesque scenes of the Alps, and with the sunshine many hikers were discarding layers as we continued our ascent. We were almost done with the worst part of the hike, or so I thought.
As we got to the junction of Power Line, Soggy Bottom and Blacktail, everyone decided to push upward to the East Boundary Trail. As we were at the ridge, I noticed most hikers were putting layers back on.
As we started our trek to the weather station, I realized we wouldn’t have the help of the beef anymore. As we started out on the East Boundary a deer was spotted as we were resting. It looked at us as if ‘WTF’ are you humans doing here. It bounded off nonchalantly. I hate deer. They make travel through wilderness look like a joyful outing in a park.
At this time, I was concerned as I had heard rumors of a mutiny because of deep snow. I took a poll of the hikers and all said to push on as we have gone too far to head back even though I did hear disparaging remarks about the hike leader.
As we pushed forward, we were post holing to our knees. I tried to rally confidence of our plight by singing ditties, but it just seemed to irritate my companions. Around this time, one of the hikers spotted a bald eagle laughing at us and it seemed to energize some of the downtrodden.
We continued with no other options. Everyone knew there was only one way out. Continue down the snow-covered trail. It was slow going. A few hundred yards to rest and blow your nose and continue on.
Finally, we saw signs of civilization (the parking lot). We all made it, even though a 7.5-mile hike took 5 HOURS. Some were not in a celebratory mood. We had some award-winning chowder and kitsch, laughed and vented, and chalked it up to “don’t doubt Brad when he says ‘Worst Hike Ever’”.
For the first hike of the year, remember: ‘The Outlaws of the Umpqua’ say, ‘Make the First the Worst’.
