So, I’m trying to get back into the swing of things with FOTU* and decided I would take on the immense responsibility of leading a group of seasoned but apprehensive hikers into the North Bank Habitat for our New Year hike. *Friends Of The Umpqua
Eight folks decided to attend. Unfortunately, I was hoping no one would show so I could call it a washout and go back to bed. But our cadre seemed robust and eager to tackle the elevation and slop of hiking Blacktail around to Soggy Bottom (not to be confused with Harry Potter’s).
The weather was threatening the whole trek, but the God’s of hiking decided to have mercy on us and give us a nice hiking temp. and rain only a small time. We even had sunshine about half of the journey.
I haven’t hiked North Bank in some time and was concerned about sloppy, slippery conditions, but they have done some work with gravel and larger crushed rock that made even Soggy Bottom not very soggy. It was an unexpected delight (not to be confused with Afternoon Delight).
So anyway, it wasn’t as bizarre as some of the more recent hikes at North Bank, no UFO landing sites, no three-legged dogs, no snow with deer laughing at us, but we did have guinea pig chowder and pumpkin bread as a reward at the end.
Well, this one was more unusual than most of my unusual outings.
What was going to be ‘The Powder to Chowder’ hike in celebration of the start of the beginning of this year’s ‘Worst Hike Ever’ took a turn in a direction that I never would have dreamed of. It was a weird coincidence that in 2022 we began on the 1st day of the year and ended on the 365th at North Bank. There was no snow, but it had rained pretty steadily the couple of days before, so I was figuring wet and sloppy. Maybe change the hike to Slop and Soup.
So, there were nine of us ready to send 2022 into the junk heap of time and start celebrating the anticipated 2023 Nirvana that was on the horizon.
We gathered in the Comstock Lot and headed out to the Bucktail Basin. Everyone seemed in good spirits and the trail wasn’t too wet and the temp. was inviting for a brisk walkabout. After about ¾ of a mile I came over a ridge and much to my surprise a small shepherd type dog appeared out of nowhere and started cantering towards me. The first thing I noticed was that it had a weird gait. I thought, poor guy, must have gotten one of his back legs injured. After he (actually she) got closer I realized I was mistaken there was no leg there. As I bent down to pet her, she was kind of whining but didn’t seem distressed. As the rest of the crew came up, they greeted the doggie with Love and Warmth. I peered down the trail expecting to see her owner, but no one was in sight. She seemed to bond with our group and hobbled along up the trail keeping Missy’s dog company. I thought we’d see her owner down the trail.
Well, it was a pretty easy trek until we came upon the steam crossings which were flowing pretty good. So little tripod was still with us but there was no way she would have gotten across without being swept downstream. Remember in Lord of the Rings when they did the dwarf toss? Well, this was dog tossing at its best. After surveying the situation, and the majority of the hike still ahead, Super Ginger Coreena, Missy and Mike decided to take our little stowaway back to civilization.
I was somewhat relieved as I knew some of our top animal lovers had decided to take action and I felt much better about the outcome of the situation.
The rest of our group continued on the journey. It seemed like the part I was most concerned about, Soggy Bottom, was pretty nice actually, not too sloppy AND the sun showed signs of breaking through. As we navigated the last water hazard and hung a right past the barn, we saw a trio coming towards us in the distance. It was the Three Musketeers. First thing I noticed was that little tripod was absent. My mind went through all the worst-case scenarios, but I noticed they had small smiles on their faces. They proceeded to fill me in about how they got back to the parking lot and wondered what was their next step. Coreena was already planning on her game plan about adopting her, but all the while they knew they had to first see if they could reunite the little one back to her family.
After canvassing anyone they could find and turning up no leads, an Oregon Police Officer happened by. He hadn’t heard about any lost dogs, but would check with the caretakers. BINGO! It wasn’t the care taker’s dog, but they knew the owners.
“PIPER”, as it turns out, was with her family and got separated. She had been out there two nights. Her family had gone out looking for her for a couple of days with no luck.
Anyway, it’s always good to have a happy ending. We had some chowder, quiche, cookies, and sparkling cider. We talked about the joys of getting older, and had that warm and fuzzy feeling for maybe saving a little life.
So let us take this attitude into the new year to give a little more love and taking action on our compassion. See you when I see you. Have a great 2023.
This hike was meant to be a lovely jaunt along the Oregon Coast at the funky little seaside town of Bandon. Much to my dismay a couple of weeks before the hike date I was informed that not only was there going to be a high tied that day, but it would be a King Tied. Due to the shortage of rescue swimmers in our club I decided the new title for the hike would then be ‘Swept By The Tidal Wave To the North Bank Habitat”.
Only Four of us this time out; The Prez, The Legend, The Tree Spirit and yours truly. This did not surprise me as this was the weekend of giving thanks and a lot of members were probably recovering from Tryptophanosis. (As a public health suggestion, Friends of The Umpqua Hiking Club would like to say try not to overindulge, but if you do hiking is a good way to counteract the negative effects) It was good hiking weather, Mid to upper 50s and though it had rained the night before the trails were firm and there was no threat of a shower.
As we arrived at the West Entrance, two K9’s playfully attacked my truck, probably recognized me from a previous life, no doubt I probably owed them money. Once the maps were passed out, I explained the route. We would start from the parking lot and proceed to the Oregon North Bank Habitat Chasm Creek Trail, which I prefer to call the OR. Chasm Trail. From there we would hook up with Middle Ridge Trail and continue onto Bucktail Ridge making a nice little six-mile loop. The Legend stated that the last part of the OR. Chasm Trail was an ass-kicker. Now, I respect the opinion of The Legend as he has hiked hundreds if not thousands of Umpqua Miles, but I figured maybe he was just suffering lingering effects from Tryptophanosis. Besides, it was only a couple of inches on the map.
Off we took on our adventure at a refreshing lively pace past shedding fall leaves and non-diversity practicing cattle. Taking a right turn on to the OR. Chasm Trail things were going extremely well. The trail was firm, our pace upbeat we were frolicking along. May I even say we were having a gay old time.
Then things got serious. The OR. Chasm Trail had started its upward climb. Time to start taking off clothes. Heart beating faster. Breathing deeper. Getting lost in the aura of what nature had to offer on our quest to the climax of this unexpected physical climb. Small breaks along the way to catch our breath then continuing on. We were almost to the top. Holding on just a little longer. And then… We made it!
We all had a cigarette and a snack at the picnic table. Just kidding about the cigarette. (As a public health suggestion, Friends of The Umpqua Hiking Club does not condone inhaling smoldering vegetation. Unless of course it is fire season) But I digress, and we did digress down The Middle Ridge into the cool, light grey atomized mist. It was a fairly uneventful decent except for the UFO landing site. We did meet a few bipedal creatures, but no sign of aliens.
We arrived at the parking lot about 11:30. Guess you could say it was a quickie.
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
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’.
This was a substitute hike because weather precluded the scheduled hike into the Rogue-Umpqua Divide Wilderness. So, it was no surprise to the 5 hikers who showed up that it was raining. But since we are Oregonians well used to the rain, we just put on the rain gear and started walking uphill from the west parking lot of the Habitat. The phrase “walking uphill” gets used a lot when hiking in the North Bank and this was no exception. When we got on top of Middle Ridge, the rain stopped and the sun made a valiant effort to turn the day into a sunny day, while not always succeeding. On the open ridges, the wind really picked up and we had to hang onto our hats on more than one occasion. The short loop by way of Chasm Creek was dangled as an option for putting out if the weather turned belligerent and proudly, all hikers eschewed that option. The trail reached the high point on top of North Boundary Ridge and the views were tremendous, this is why we hike, boys and girls, even on a less than stellar day. We could see all the way to the Callahans on the other side of Roseburg while the North Umpqua River glistened as it perambulated around Whistler’s Bend. Also visible, was a wall of black cloud, the opaqueness below letting us know inclement weather was coming. And sure enough, we were pelted with hail as we descended from the ridge. But that was just a temporary squall and the sun came out once again, spreading its sunny good cheer around. At the trailhead, it was high-five and handshakes as we all enjoyed a brisk spring hike in the North Bank.
The North Bank Habitat, near Glide, has become our last-hike-of-the-year tradition, if the last 4 or 5 years are any indication.
The whole vibe was foggy when we started but it was a thin fog, so there was hope that the day would turn out to be sunny. We headed up the Soggy Bottom in decidedly chilly temps that were not too far off from freezing. However, because of the exertion of hiking uphill, we were soon warmed up despite the cold.
The day could never decide whether it was going to be foggy and generally hung around somewhere in between. When we arrived at the northern boundary ridge, the winter sun broke out but shortly thereafter, a fog bank rolled in, making the trees seem ghostly in the mist. But before we began dropping off the ridge, the sun broke out again and we were rewarded with a spectacular rainbow. Anyway, that was the way of it on this sunny/foggy-sunny/foggy day.
As we descended down towards the North Umpqua River, the sun broke out for mostly good and the views from the eastern ridge were about as perfect as fiddle solo in a country song. All in all, a great way to close out the year in a great hiking miles and in Roseburg’s own backyard.
It was darned cold for April in Douglas County, temperatures were in the 30’s but twelve people turned out for the hike on North Bank. John had read the icy bad weather prediction for Boundary Springs (the original scheduled destination) and decided that discretion was the better part of valor and he changed the locale to North Bank Habitat. On the Habitat, the sun came and went, some rain spatters came and went, and luckily the hail arrived after the hikers made it back to the trailhead.
The trail wasn’t in the best of shape; heavy rain had turned it to mud or worse because of the bovine population which contributed to the trail’s general messiness. There were segments where hikers had to leave the trail for the relative cleanness of the grass.
The route was up Blacktail Basin, under the power lines, a stop at Grumpy’s Pond for a snack, and then down the well- named Soggy Bottom Road to the parking area at about one o’clock. The weather was temporarily so nice that the hikers loitered at the picnic area at the bottom, enjoying the ephemeral spring weather. The official distance for the hike was seven and one-fourth miles. Some folks joined the hike who hadn’t been with the group for a while, one of whom brought the small girl child who hiked so impressively for her age and size.
Thanks go to John for persevering in his efforts to get the gang out on the trail where they belong.
