I want to go here

Well, I do, for obvious reasons, and don't, for pain-in-the-ass permit reasons.

With so many people talking about the Enchantments lately, I thought I would give this person's amazing video some major props.

Washington Enchantments from Glidecam TV on Vimeo.

Solstice

Oceanside

An impromptu PTO day saw us arriving to sun on the Oregon coast, leaving the clouds behind in Portland. A rare phenomenon. We had originally packed for a hike, but the lure of tiny towns, hidden cafes, beachfront wanders and kite flying proved to be too much; the hike got squashed and, instead, we spent joyous hours ducking in and out of places we haven't visited in far too long. It was a day spent wandering among sea stacks and tide pools, a landscape of colored sand between our toes. Sometimes, the best days are the unplanned ones.

Andy found clam chowder

Kiwanda, one of my favorite places on the coast

(I bet you can sea kayak in there)

little details

Three Rocks (Oceanside)

Netarts Spit from Cape Lookout

[GRIN]

gorgeous Netarts bay

Green Trails

Allison, heading towards Saddle Mountain's cloudy summit

SADDLE MOUNTAIN

Oregon Coast Range, Oregon

~6.1 miles, ~1630 feet elevation gain

Everything is so green. I haven't been hiking since March. Time for the pony to keep up with the thoroughbred. [GRIN].

The color of spring in the Coast Range

Allison is actually a great hiking partner. Although she has a ground-eating stride capable of leaving me in the dust, she possesses a chill, flexible personality that makes for a good trail buddy. Her amazingly cute little side kick (insert Oscar, trail wonder dog here) doesn't hurt either. She also happens to be a wealth of trail, wildflower and edibles information. On this particular day, heading up the Saddle Mountain trail in a thick cloud, I actually wasn't too far behind her thanks to the plethora of tiny wildflower details and plant details dotting the mossy, exposed ridges of the peak and the occasional, but well-placed, salmonberry. 

I won't go into too much detail about the trail since there is more than enough info written about Saddle Mountain. At 3,287' it's the tallest peak in the Oregon Coast range. Some rare species of flora call it home. Depending on what guide book you consult, the trail is between 4 and 6ish miles with a steep, final grind on exposed slopes to the finish (my legs are going with Douglas Lorain's mileage estimation). I haven't hiked Saddle Mountain in years, and the trail has been extensively rehabbed since I was last there, which makes for (somewhat) better traction. Shrouded in cloud, busting out in all colors of mossy green, it made me feel like I should have been running around like a Braveheart extra. A good day.

the car is waaaaay down there

 

FALLS CREEK FALLS

Wind River/Columbia Gorge Recreation Area, Washington

~6.3 miles, ~1150 feet elevation gain

first beargrass of the season

I've never been to Falls Creek Falls. I've heard of it, just never been, and I couldn't tell you why. Maybe because it's exactly the kind of hike I suspected it would be, and most days, I'm just not interested in putting up with the sea of humanity that tends to flock towards easy waterfall hikes.  

All that said, it is a phenomenally beautiful waterfall.  

Where me and everyone else ended up on Saturday

Andy and I arrived to a trailhead with at least thirty cars in the lot on a warm, bluebird, Saturday morning. We had taken our time lazing about and as such, arrived at peak hiking hour.

That said, Andy and I found some surprising solitude by completing the loop clockwise and getting the least scenic part of the (optional) loop out of the way first. I'm betting most people do this trail as an out-and-back, which makes sense since the trail actually leading directly to the falls is hella more beautiful than the forested ridge walk we took in. 

I suspect Falls Creek Falls is a great winter/early season trail or one to start really early or really late (if you want to avoid crowds). It's a great hike for out-of-towners, kids, or people who need a short, easily accessible, really grandiose waterfall without much mileage or elevation gain. For myself, I think it's a winter stomping ground kinda place. 

Trying New Things

RIDGEFIELD WILDLIFE REFUGE, Washington

Lake River-Columbia River-Lewis River

It's like I turned around and suddenly, out of nowhere, it's June. My life has been one in constant transition over the last six months: adjusting to a new schedule and finding my own inner balance with a new career that is as rewarding as it is demanding. I was just getting my feet under me at my previous job when an opportunity arose that I simply couldn't say no to. I realized the other day that between graduating school, passing my boards and having two jobs in five months, I have been in absolute flux, seemingly in a permanent orientation/adjustment mode, and my sleep and work schedule has been all over the board. I've been more than just a little outside of my comfort zone and wholly focused on work in way I have never been before. Which explains a little of why I've woefully neglected my trail (aka *me*) time.

Although I haven't been hiking since March (god, I cringe to write that), Andy and I have still been trying some new stuff...or, in other words, getting mildly obsessed with kayaking. It's an exploration of our world from a different view that we have been wanting to try for years, so with a little more time on our hands, we've been trying it out. We took a basic skills class from Alder Creek a couple of years ago, but decided to retake it recently with some good friends who are also interesting in seeing the world from a waterway perspective. All in all it was great fun, especially watching me try to Superman solo self-rescue myself back into the boat while the entire class got to look on (solo kayak rescue= not graceful). We've signed up for a three day, full immersion class in July, and will do some renting and social paddles in between. Boats are on the brain. For two self-confessed gear junkies, it's a bad thing to open up an entirely new sport of gear we don't have; I have a feeling the next couple of months are going to be mental gymnastics in self restraint.

We recently took out some boats for a day at the RidgefieldWildlife Refuge, a large area of creeks, lakes and interconnected sloughs north of Portland, off the Columbia River. We traveled up the Lake River near Bachelor Island, explored a wee, downfall-ridden creek, bobbed around like corks in the choppy Columbia and wandered a short ways up the Lewis River. Ospreys lined the waterways in abundance, nests perched high on towering deadfall and the ruins of old pilings. We watched a bald eagle defend its tree from other birds, aerial acrobatics like a fighter jet over the Columbia, winging back low over the water and directly overhead, eyeballing us with a superiority only predatory birds are capable of exhibiting. Fish popped out in front of us, either hunting insects or in surprise of our boats following their trajectory.

It's interesting learning a new activity again...I very much so know what I like with hiking, how to plan trips and looking at trails. But I forget how the first couple of hikes/trips/backpacks were almost complete disasters and that it took time to build to the *skill* (if you can call it that) level I'm at now. Andy and I are just beginning to explore the local paddling community, and we have no idea where to go or what we really like yet. Like snowshoeing, feeling like a bit of newb. However, once again, Portland offers a wealth of opportunity for exploration in the local area- this is Bridgetown (aka rivers everywhere) after all. I love where I live. 

this handicap spot has a Fred Flintstone thing going on :)

P&H makes lovely boats (Lake River and Bachelor Island)

where the Lake River meets the Columbia, Warrior Rock Light (Sauvie Island) a half-mile across the water

<3

the path is thwarted by downfall

self-portraits in a kayak are tough to angle correctly

The Last Frontier

Over dinner the other night, a good friend was gushing with excitement about her upcoming Alaska trip. I'll admit, it made me jealous and got me reminiscing. In 2007, Andy and I took a fabulous, ten day, just-us tour through our far northern last frontier, driving approximately 1000 miles in our Anchorage-Denali-Fairbanks-Glennallen-Seward tour. It was a fantastic, jaw-dropping/impromptu sampling of a phenomenally beautiful and wild state. We saw grizzly, almost wrecked the car staring at moose and bald eagles, stayed in tiny bush cabins (I cannot even imagine the fortitude it takes to use an outhouse at 40 below), hiked while singing songs to ward off the bears, got poured on, witnessed glaciers calving, wrote letters to Santa, visited three national parks, photographed Denali on clear day (apparently a very fortunate and not common occurrence), treated our taste buds to reindeer sausage and yak jerky (delish), drove by the snaking Alaska pipeline, and much more.

A sampling of some of our trip (taken before the days of a *good* camera, so please excuse the quality):

It's a long, winding road into the park to see Denali

Alaska Range from Polychrome Pass, Denali NP (photo by AJP)

Showing us the pearly whites

the mountains are big in Wrangell-St. Elias NP

(mountains everywhere) Chugach Range as seen from the Glenn Highway

Exit Glacier, Kenai Fjords NP (photo by AJP)

before we became intelligent about NOT hiking in jeans

stellar sea lions

Kenaji Fjords NP

 

We Don't ALWAYS Fall

Powder Mountain Trip, Feb 2013 from Andy Park on Vimeo.

PowMow Highlights 2013 from Andy Park on Vimeo.

Bloopers

Because sometimes, nothing does it quite like a blooper reel.

Powder Mountain - Feb 2013 from Andy Park on Vimeo.

Saint Patty's weekend

Suddenly it is mid-March, and winter is all but flown past. I have been skiing more, for which I am thankful (and enjoying immensely), but skiing has always been more about speed and entertainment than balancing the inner spaces of self.

I find I am missing the Gorge and the stormy, wild character it exudes in the deep of the winter months. I love what I do but, ever since I started, work has been about long hours that are (as I suspected they would) beginning to kick the emotional stuffing out of me. Since childhood, hours lost in the woods have been about self-care, about quiet, repose and reworking the jigsaw puzzle pieces I become when I'm too stressed. Time for a hike.

The weather forecast was a gamble, which we lost. It was a soggy five miles spent hunting imaginary leprechauns in the vibrant green of the Gorge, lost among the mosses and ferns along the trail.

But beautiful. It never ceases to amaze me how a landscape so close to civilization can feel so untamed. Our breath was visible in the air, the scent of the rain clean and poised between deep winter and spring. The cusp seasons have begun.

 

beautiful Herman Creek

 

hunting leprechauns

 

Pacific Crest falls

HERMAN CREEK TO THE PINNACLES
Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, Oregon
~5 miles, ~1000 feet elevation gain

Blogstöckchen!

Fellow blogger and occasional (when we can coordinate crazy busy schedules) adventure buddy, Allison Wildman, tagged me in this international blogger-style chain letter/game. It's a question posed from fellow like-minded bloggers, who then tag other like-minded bloggers...and said question gets to leap frog its way around the cyber globe. It's a fun concept that allows you to take a sneak peek into what's in other peoples packs. I kind of like it, so I'll play. It's also led me down some fellow hiker/blogger rabbit holes I wouldn't normally have gone down. 

The question posed by this blogstöckchen is: What three things do you always bring on a hike?

I'll be honest, I had to think about this. I'm the frequent butt of jokes among friends regarding the size of my day pack, mostly because I always, always go out prepared for the possibility of spending the night. While this tends to slow me down on the hill climbs, it gives me quite the gear laden inertia on the downhills [GRIN]. The ten essentials plus-sized. So it took me a minute to think about what's in my hiking wallet that is really specific to me and my needs. 

1) Maps.

I may require a twelve step program

I'm a planning junkie. I {heart} maps (and, if I'm airing all my dirty laundry/obsessions: guidebooks).  Maps are a fundamental part of the ten essentials and navigation, but truth is, they don't always have to come along- some hikes in the local area I know well enough to not really require a map. But a map always gets toted along. Or, if I'm on an extended backpacking trip, must I carry the entire wilderness map (you know, the ones big enough to be a table cloth on your tent floor) when a shrunken photocopy version of the region would suffice? 

Yup. There's always a map in my pack. Because I'm a dork, and I like planning other trips while I'm on a trip. And that ends my confession box. 

That said, I still think navigation devices are key to going out someplace, even if it's a place you know fairly well. Our local Columbia Gorge is proof positive that many, many people, even out on "just a day hike", spend the night in the backcountry after having their sense of direction turned around by the twisted and interconnected trail system. 

2) Trekking Poles. 

I acquired trekking poles a couple of years back, mostly to help with sketchy creek crossings on rocks where my balance wasn't so great. Anyone who knows me well can profess that I am not the most coordinated of individuals, and I routinely lose fights between my knee and the corner of the living room coffee table. 

Trekking poles have become one of my coveted outdoor items. They not only help improve my balance and coordination on ledges or sketchy creek /snow crossings, they have also become the tent poles for my Nemo Meta2P tent, which I love. They improve my posture on uphill climbs (I have a tendency to hunchback forward on climbs, using the poles corrects that bad habit) and save my knees on the downhills. They've also come in handy during times past when I forgot real tent poles. 

trying to correct hunchback posture

impromptu tent poles

3) Moleskin.

I give to you some exhibits from years past on why I carry moleskin on every hike, long or short, and why I have single-handedly been known to clean out the entire stock supply of moleskin at my local grocery store.  

My feet have been the bane of my existence for many, many years. I have platypus feet- wide at the front, narrow at the back. It's difficult to find shoes with a big enough toe box for me to jam my hulking feet into while being able to latch my heel down at the same time.  The result has been years worth of blisters and no combination of socks or different shoes, slathering my feet in Vaseline or covering them in duct tape has worked so far. Trail runners and moleskin (applied at the first inkling of a hot spot) have been what's worked the best, thus far. I'm open to suggestions if anyone has more.  

And there you have it. My three must-haves. 

I'm tagging my old fellow HS friend, Justin, who  launched an amazing dream some time ago, taking off for the south, and who now runs his own business in Patagonia (can you say DREAM JOB?)

Anne, a fellow Portland hiker who can often be found "hiking [her] ass off" and whose trip reports always make me smile. 

And Steph Abegg, an amazing mountaineer and determined woman with outstanding photography skills and who has one of the most incredible recovery reports I've ever read.