Friends of the Umpqua Hiking Group
A Roseburg, Oregon hiking club. Providing guided hikes to the Coast, the Cascades, and all points in between!
Hike Coordinator: Rheo Wheeler
Narration by Rheo Wheeler
We had 8 participants on the hike at south slough. Weather was amazing for the 4-mile loop through the estuary. The wildlife was clearly absent for this hike, but the side trip to the beach was our reward. Truly a short sleeve weather day at the beach near Whiskey Run.
Pictures below by Rheo Wheeler
Narration by Richard O’Neill
Sometime in the middle of the night while we all slept, happily dreaming of new trails, smoke from the Cedar Creek Fire cloaked Odell Lake. Who wants to hike in that crap? Not us, so we quickly confabbed and put together an end-to-end route that ran from Little Cultus Lake to Cultus Lake. And after the half-hour drive to the trailhead, I’m glad to report that the air was blessedly clear at Little Cultus Lake.
We had an enjoyable view of Little Cultus reposing in a forested bowl below a bright blue sky before the trail took us into the woods and we never saw Little Cultus again, in what was a trend for this hike. After a mile or two, we reached scenic Deer Lake and then the trail, in keeping with the trend, then ducked into the forest and we never saw Deer Lake again, either.
Cultus Lake is a large lake and is not so easy to hide, although the trail did a good job of keeping us from seeing the lake as we hiked roughly three miles along the Cultus Lake shoreline. We did stop at a boater’s camp for a lunch ‘n laze, watching thunderclouds form just east of the lake.
As we walked through the forest, we became adept at spotting the floral spires of pine drops, a parasitic plant that we normally don’t see a lot of where we normally hike. There were plenty of pine drops in this area, though.
Mike, Missy, and I get the Golden Boot Award for this hike because while everybody piled into the one car to effect the retrieval of the second car, we hiked nearly another two miles to the Cultus Lake Resort. By doing that, we got more lake time than we did during the entire hike up to that point.
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neil’s blog, Richard Hikes
More pictures on Richard O’Neill’s Flickr page
Pictures below by Richard O’Neill
Narration by Richard O’Neill
Our original plan was to camp at Waldo Lake for the annual club campout and explore some of the many trails in the Waldo Lake Wilderness. However, the campground was sold out and then the Cedar Creek Fire closed the Waldo Lake Wilderness. Sheesh, what’s the point of making plans, anyway?
We relocated to nearby Odell Lake and because of fire-related closures, we didn’t have a lot of choices about where to hike, so we settled on nearby Rosary Lakes as the destination du jour. The trail was only about 10 miles from the fire, which was 0% contained, yet the air was surprisingly smoke free.
The sky was overcast and light rain fell off and on for the entire day. However, it was also fairly warm and none of the six hikers on this outing felt the need to put on any extra clothing or rain gear during the entire day’s venture.
The Pacific Crest Trail climbed steadily for several miles through a forest comprised of trees covered in moss like my arms are covered with hair. The Rosary Lakes number three, each lake huddled at the base of imposing and craggy Pulpit Rock.
At the Lower Rosary Lake, the first lake we ran into, a deer came to visit with us, totally habituated to the presence of human beings in their forest haunts. Edwin spotted a small lake off trail and before you knew it we were all following him down to the unnamed lake. No complaining though, the lake was pretty cool and made a nice diversion from the more familiar Pacific Crest Trail.
Next stop was Middle Rosary Lake, which had the best view of Pulpit Rock standing against the gray sky. Raindrops pattered on the lake’s surface as the ripples spread out and ran into each other in unrestrained chaos.
Upper Rosary Lake was perhaps the smallest of the three lakes and just for fun, we walked on a use path that circumnavigated the lake and the walk was part hike, part bushwhack as the trail went sketchy on the far side of the lake. But it was hard to get lost as all we had to do was keep the lake on the right-hand side and at some point, we’d return back to the Pacific Crest Trail, which is exactly what happened.
Seems like Edwin was feeling adventurous and when he saw a small lake on Lane’s GPS screen, next thing you know, we were again following him off-trail to another small lake near Middle Rosary Lake. After exploring the large rock pile formed courtesy of Pulpit Rock, we followed a path along the nameless lake which soon petered out altogether. Next thing you know, we were following Edwin downhill through the forest and brush down to Lower Rosary Lake, and then to the Pacific Crest Trail again.
After consulting the map, Edwin and Terry decided to go cross-country down Rosary Creek and then cross Highway 58 to reach our campsite. The rest of us decided to partake in the safety and comfort of a well-established trail that we all knew where it went. I’m both happy and sad to report Edwin and Terry beat us back to the campground.
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neil’s blog, Richard Hikes
More pictures on Richard O’Neill’s Flickr page
Pictures below by Richard O’Neill
Hike Coordinator: Richard O’Neill
Narration by Richard O’Neill
Even though the club hiked this one hike on one certain Saturday, the club outing on the Bullards Beach horse trails was really about three hikes.
The first hike was a Cascades Mountains hike, a relatively easy amble to Nip and Tuck Lakes, which was the original destination for the club. However, the Windigo Fire burst into flaming existence, thanks to a round of lightning storms hovering over dry forests. Since the Nip and Tuck hike began at like-named Windigo Pass, it stood to reason that we might not be hiking there. It became official when the Forest Service closed off large swaths of land, trails, and roads in the Windigo Pass area. Time for Plan B.
When the mountains are aflame, then the coast seems like a logical choice. So off I went several days before the actual hike, to test out a route on the Bullards Beach State Park horse trail system. Comprised of the Cut Creek, North Loop, Three Mares, and Pearl’s Trail(s), plus one other nameless trail that runs along the Bullards Beach Road between campground and beach. There’ll be a pop quiz in the morning, boys and girls.
There were two drawbacks to that 7-mile route: virtually all of the loop was on soft sand, and the last half was in shadeless sand dunes and dang, the warm sun baked my noodle as I trudged along. I needed to make some changes, otherwise my fellow hikers would hate me more than normal.
The first change was to hike in the opposite direction so as to get the dunes out of the way first when the day would be cooler. The second change was to replace the Cut Creek Trail segment with a walk on Bullards Beach itself, trading in three miles of soft sand for some hardpack on the beach.
Approximately 10 hikers (including two friends from the South Coast Striders) hit the trail, totally unaware of my travails in cobbling together the route. Soft sand was still soft sand, though, and leg muscles were soon aflame like the forest at Windigo Pass. But, at least it wasn’t as hot as it could get in the afternoon.
The cool part (literally!) was that after the trail crested and dropped through a series of grassy pastures, the fog rolled in and there’d be no threat of hot sun for the remainder of the day. There’d be little to no visibility either, as the thick fog limited our vision to about 15 feet or so. As we straggled down the beach, we all appeared to each other like spectral hikers from the underworld, ghostly in the thick fog.
Our egress off the beach was Exit 147 and it was an open question as to whether we would see the sign or not. But the exit signs are painted bright yellow and it was just enough color for us to notice as we trod along in our colorless world of gray. So, while our original hike had been nipped and tucked by the Windigo Fire, we did make do in fine fashion.
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neil’s blog, Richard Hikes
More pictures on Richard O’Neill’s Flickr page
Pictures below by Richard O’Neill
Hike coordinator: Edwin Case
Narration by Lane Harris
If you look at a map you’ll see that Rattlesnake Mountain, Mosquito Lake and Windy Gap are all within a mile of each other. It sure doesn’t sound like a very friendly place to visit. Despite the threatening names given to these various land features, this area in the Rogue-Umpqua Divide Wilderness offers some of the most stunning scenery in our neck of the woods. Perhaps the names were a way to keep hoards of people away from enjoying the beauty of this area. What they should really worry about is the drive to get to the trailhead to Rattlesnake Mountain!
Edwin managed to attract a baker’s dozen for his steep trek to the top of rattlesnake Mountain. But first, he had to get them there…
The route to get to the trailhead in Fish Creek Valley south of the mountain consists, in part, of several miles along a dusty, pothole-filled road. With thick vegetation reaching out to scrape the sides of vehicles, its not the most vehicle-friendly road I’ve been on. However, there are worse roads out there, and at least this one didn’t require 4-wheel drive on this warm July day.
Arriving at the trailhead, hikers laced up their boots and began the march towards the mountain. The first mile was a steady climb along what is really Castle Creek Trail that unsurprisingly originates at Castle Creek. Taking a right at the junction, the trail climbs up to the intersection at Windy Gap. None of us detected any wind here, although we wish there was, as it was starting to get warm. We continued up the Rattlesnake Mountain Trail, and this is where the “difficult” part of the hike really begins to kick in. The trail sidewinds it’s way along the southern side of the mountain, with a fair number of steep parts that make you rethink this hobby called hiking. The saving grace were all the wildflowers that adorned the steep hillsides, along with the many meadows, giving hikers with cameras excuses to stop and take pictures while they catch their breath.
Eventually, and certainly not soon enough, the path took a westerly turn and took a much more gradual approach towards the top, taking us hikers through one of the largest meadows we would encounter this day.
This large meadow near the top afforded us southerly views as we languished in the casual stroll toward the western edge of Rattlesnake Mountain. Eventually, the trail more or less disappears, as adventurous hikers are likely to explore every which way up here. But our destination was the rocky overlook on the western side.
Upon arrival, most of us immediately divested our backpacks and just plopped ourselves on the ground, while others strategically claimed rocky surfaces near the edge of the cliff. Although the views here are limited to mostly to the west and south, they were nonetheless views.
After finishing our mountaintop lunch, the group gathered up and we did some exploring near the northern tree-covered side of the mountain. There, we discovered what was once, to the best of our knowledge, remains of an old lookout. Giant cement blocks indicated that the structure that once stood here was substantial. Some wisecrack comments were made about the poor souls who had to pack these huge cement blocks up the hillside. Obviously, that’s not true, as the likely mode of transportation for these behemoths would have been done by helicopter.
After the history show, we looked forward to making the trek down, this time appreciating the meadows without the heavy breathing like we did on the way up. It was getting warmer by the minute as we hiked down, but at least it was down! We took a left at the Windy Gap intersection, which took us onto new trail. At one point, the trail crosses a small creek, giving hikers two options to traverse it: A log that stretched across to the other side, or the mundane lower path where hikers could just hop across the creek. With the exception a few hikers, everyone else chose the somewhat challenging, but mostly safe log option. Fortunately, no one ended up in the creek below and we applauded each other for this acrobatic accomplishment.
The remainder of the hike took us through mostly wooded hillsides, eventually culminating in tranquil meadows until we reached the road which was just yards from the trailhead. At this last meadow, we were able to turn around and peer up at Rattlesnake Mountain in awe as we speculated about how we actually hiked up that high. With a 1,500 ft elevation gain, this hike earns a well-deserved rating of “difficult”, but the beauty of the meadows and the overall views made the effort we put into it all worth it.
More pictures on Lane Harris’ Flickr page
Pictures below by Lane Harris
Hike Coordinator: Coreena Gosselin
Narration by Lane Harris
The planning leading up to this hike was harder than it should’ve been, but with persistence, hike leader Coreena eventually determined that the club could actually hike the ‘ol Cowhorn.
A few weeks prior to the hike, Coreena was unable to even get to the trailhead due to road conditions, thanks to our late snowfall. Then one week before the hike she made it part way up the trail before a threatening thunderstorm and rain chased her off the mountainside. But at least the trail was attainable and she didn’t have to change the hike destination at the last minute.
On the day of the hike, a whopping eighteen hikers headed up the highway toward Windigo Pass and the trailhead. It was around eleven o’clock before boots hit the Pacific Crest Trail, which by the way, was quite crowded with thru-hikers gathering at the trailhead while they refilled containers with fresh water, thanks to generous trail angels.
The climb up to the base of Cowhorn Mountain is a nice steady grade, made backpacker friendly for the PCT folks who have more weight in their packs than us puny day hikers. Nonetheless, the 4 miles of “steady climb” made each of us huff and puff on this warm summer day.
As hikers rounded each corner that had a view looking up at the mountain, many voices could be heard saying, “We’re going up THERE?”. Seeing Cowhorn Mountain from below can be quite intimidating, to say the least. But we pressed on…
Although we began with eighteen eager hikers, that number dwindled some as the trail proved a bit too tough for some as they wisely chose to turn around and call it a day. The remaining hikers continued the trudge up the trail, some perhaps thinking that the ones who turned around were possibly the smarter ones of the bunch…
We hit a few patches of snow on the trail when we were about a mile from the junction that veers off the PCT to Cowhorn. These small icy obstacles did little in slowing us down, as they were easily managed by just walking up and over them.
At the junction, the trail angles off to the right and heads up to Cowhorn. Everything up to this point was just a warmup for the next section, which is a short but extremely steep climb that switches back and forth on a loose, rocky hillside. This is the mountain making it’s declaration to hikers: “If you can pass this torture test, then you are worthy of summiting my peak!” For those who did make this incredibly sheer ascent, they were rewarded with a moderate walk across an attractive saddle filled with red and orange volcanic rock. Tremendous views were enjoyed from this area, but the top of the mountain was calling to some of us, so we continued on…
I wasn’t really sure how many hikers were in front of me, but I did know that number was not eighteen! The last task of attaining the summit of Cowhorn Mountain requires hikers to replace their trekking poles with their hands, as the remaining 50 feet is a scramble up solid volcanic rock. As I reached the top, I was greeted by what I termed as fellow Cowhornians. In all, only eight of us had achieved Cowhornhood, and it was magnificent! Precariously perched atop the small, uneven surface, we ate a well-deserved lunch as we enjoyed the 360-degree views.
If you can name it, we saw it. Crescent Lake dominated the view immediately to the north, and we could make out Diamond Peak, the Three Sisters, and even Mount Washington and Jefferson further to the north. To the south we easily made out Mt Thielsen and Bailey, and even further away, Mt McLoughlin near Medford.
After much oohing and ahhing, we slowly and carefully made the climb off the top, taking in the views once more on the way down. Coming off of Cowhorn Mountain requires attention to detail, as boots tend to slip and slide coming down the scree slope. We met up with the rest of the group who had gathered near the bottom of the mountain near the PCT. From here, it was all downhill.
This 9-mile out and back hike is not an easy hike, by no means. In fact, some of us commented to the newer hikers that if they can do this, they can do any hike that pops up on our schedule. I’m not sure if that remark was received as a compliment meant to encourage them to hike with us again, or as a discouragement to never hike with us again!
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neil’s blog, Richard Hikes
More pictures on Richard O’Neill’s Flickr page
More pictures on Lane Harris’ Flickr page
Pictures below by Lane Harris
Hike Coordinator: Cleve Moss
Narration by Cleve Moss
On Saturday morning 6 hikers came together to go visit the Old Hershberger Lookout. Some had been there before and a couple had not. The weather was to be clear skies for good viewing and on the warm side.
We headed east out of Canyonville toward Tiller and continued along Jackson Creek. Eventually we started to gain elevation which took us to the trail head to Cripple Camp Shelter. We saw a couple of large bucks with racks in their velvet. There was a doe and fawn so small it hid in the ditch brush as we went by. A nice spring black bear was spotted crossing the road.
When we got to the trail head, we were greeted by a few mosquitoes which hurried us to get on the trail quickly. The mosquitoes seemed to not bother us as long as we kept moving. So, when we needed to take a short break a short saying that could be heard went something like this: “Better keep walking because if the mosquitoes don’t get you, the gators will.” We would hear this sound advice several times during the hike.
Most of this hike is through an old mature stand of high elevation timber. At Cripple Camp Shelter there are two large Douglas firs, one probably about 10 feet in diameter and another about 8 feet in diameter. They seemed to say “Welcome!” to hikers as they peered out at the meadow. “My huge arms are here to shelter you from whatever the weather may be!” There were large specimens of Douglas fir, Mountain Hemlock, Pacific Silver Fir, Incense Cedar, Grand Fir and an occasional Sugar Pine throughout the hike. Small Goldened Chinquapin, huckleberry brush, fern, trillium and other blooming plants were scattered across the forest floor. There was evidence of wild fire from the past that was starting to green up along the route.
As we rounded around Todd March Prairie, we encountered a couple small patches of snow. When we crossed Pup Prairie it was lush with green growth with a few blooming flowers. The real show would be in the next week or two. You would expect to see some animals around the prairies, but we only saw a squirrel and a few birds.
During the last 2/3’s mile to the top, the trail steepened, requiring short walks and long blows. We anticipated that the hard climb would reward us with a good view. When we reached the lookout, Hershberger did not disappoint. Rabbit Ears was almost close enough to touch. The sky was clear, giving views of Shasta, McLoughlin, Union Peak, Crater Lake Rim, Thielsen and Bailey were all there to greet us.
The rock garden at Hershberger was composed of heather and paint brush, and the succulents were just starting with many more to come. It can be a pretty showy place when it is all abloom.
The easy trek back downhill made it feel as if the hike was already over with. Again, Hershberger did not disappoint, and we had a feeling that we would be back someday soon.
Photos below by Cleve Moss and Rheo Wheeler
Hike Coordinator: Brad Bishop
Narration by Brad Bishop
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Anticipation was thick in the air.
I had led an ambitious group of adventurers over snow covered hills and down frigid valleys at the start of 2022 on The Worst Hike Ever.
Now, our return to the undulating North Bank in a reverse route of our previous journey to see if logically it would be, The Best Hike Ever.
About a dozen hikers, a mix of well-traveled and new members, decided to see if my prediction would come to fruition. The cadre of trekkers knew there would be ups and downs to this journey, but all seemed to relish the thought of being a part of The Best Hike Ever. It was perfect hiking weather, Mid to high 50s, scattered clouds and little wind.
We started out determined and joyful from the East Parking Lot. The consensus of the group was that it was good to get the asphalt part of the loop done first. This positive attitude dropped as we traversed the first cattle gate…. There it stood before us. The East Boundary Rd. Trail. An elevation gain going towards the heavens at a 45-degree angle. After a deep breath and a few nervous laughs, we ascended. The troupe’s conversations, that had been high spirited and numerous, ceased to only uttering what was necessary and some words of encouragement about how this too will pass. Many cursed Newton on his theory of Gravity as the climb continued upward.
There were a few plateaus spread sparingly on our climb where the members rested briefly. Doubled over and gasping for air to feed their heaving lungs. A trail runner and his dog politely passed our group saying if it wasn’t for his dog pulling him up the mountain he would probably be in the same state of distress as we. I knew this to be untrue as him and his dog were keeping pace with one another. We bid him a happy adieu as they disappeared over another rise we had yet to conquer.
After finally making it up the first long and winding ascent we were challenged with the usual elevation drops and climbs that the North Bank is well known for, but along with that came some majestic views of the North Umpqua River and the valleys and mountains it encompasses.
We had decided to all meet up at the weather station for a quick refreshment break and make sure everyone was still functional for the downhill portion, yes the Powerline Trail. All were happy as I encouraged them that it was all downhill from there, all but Richard who claimed it wasn’t ALL downhill. I pshawed his statement and ensured the group it was all downhill. Some decided to break off and take the equestrian trail that ends up junctioning with Powerline at a slightly lower elevation.
Off we started again down, down, down the trail. You could tell this was an early season jaunt by sometimes seeing the long grasses almost obscuring site of the trail until you were upon it. It was a fairly easy hike with not very much mud. But then I stopped. The scene in front of me could not be true, my eyes must be deceiving me! Yes, there was some uphill traversing. Rats! Richard had been right I should have known better than disagree with the Trail master. Oh well, hopefully the rest of the crew would not remember my words.
The rest of the hike was fast and not too difficult except for our knee joints. We made it back to the Comstock parking gazebo and had some refreshments and Macrons. Most all concurred that it probably wasn’t the Best Hike Ever, but everyone had a good time and definitely got a little exercise.
Read more about this hike on Richard O’Neil’s blog, Richard Hikes
More pictures on Richard O’Neill’s Flickr page
Pictures below by Richard O’Neill
Hike coordinator: Rheo Wheeler
Narration by Rheo Wheeler
What does one do on Thanksgiving weekend? On Saturday, there were only 5 of us who decided hiking was the answer. Liz, Cleve and I met at the courthouse and met Shannon and Jan at South Slough.
There was no sunshine, but just a drizzle here and there with gray cloud cover, not very picturesque. We enjoyed the downhill side and the various viewpoints along the water, and then made the trek uphill to the cars. The tide was out so there was no wildlife to speak of. We just took our time and enjoyed each other’s company. All told, we only hiked about 3-4 miles.
Pictures below by Rheo Wheeler
Hike Coordinator – Edwin Case
The road was rough and we had three 4 wheel drive vehicles ferry our 11 hikers to the upper Mount Bailey trailhead. We enjoyed a respite from Roseburg’s upper 90 degree heat with the temperature being a relatively cool 80ish degrees with a steady breeze blowing.
Unfortunately, smoke from the fires to the south of Mount Bailey hazed up the view to Diamond Lake and Mount Thielsen. By the time we reached the summit, the smoke had thickened to the point that there was no view at all to be had from the top of Mount Bailey. Not even nearby Diamond Lake was visible.
All eleven hikers (plus one dog) made it to the summit, including our youngest hiker who was about 9 or 10 years old. Our hikers came from diverse locations ranging from Days Creek to Coos Bay. Too bad it was smoky!
Pictures by Katsuaki Terasawa
