Across the hall from us a graduate student at the University of Kansas, Patrick, moved in just the other day and since Alex and Kevin both left for weekend adventures with friends in Eugene and the Three Sisters Wilderness respectively, Patrick and I had plenty of time to get to know each other. He is working with his adviser on a study that is hoping to bridge the gap between contemporary evolution and molecular genetics. On Friday night he had to head to the University of Oregon to pick up some 2,000 plant specimens he has to transplant in the next few days, but on Saturday he and I both had some free time. We decided to head towards the area where he will be working and hike the nearby Iron Mountain.
The first sight along the path was this massive rock that towered over the trail and was absolutely covered in mosses and lichens. The surface of the rock appeared as if over thousands of years it had suffered some considerable chemical weathering at the hands of the mosses.
Patrick heads across a snow covered patch of the trail only about a mile into the hike. This mountain featured a number of open glens which allowed for snow to gather.
Here is one of the open glens a little farther up. The snow here is at least 2 feet deep (but still nothing when compared to what we would encounter later). This glen also provided a pleasant view across the valley between gaps in the low-hanging, fast-moving clouds.
At one in the trail we looked up to see this monstrous rock structure looming overhead. The wild formations created by eons of wind and water erosion created some funky rock designs that reminded me of Bryce Canyon in Utah.
Here is another view across the valley. When it was clear (which wasn't too often), the sun shone brilliantly on the adjacent slopes making for very picturesque scenes.
Another view of the rocky summit a few more minutes up the trail.
Wildflower #17: What mike look like for or six flowers are actually bunches of many smaller flowers. There are probably close to 100 flowers in this photo and each one is about 2-3mm across. The Iron Mountain region seemed to have fairly different soil composition from what was in the Andrews Forest, and as a result the plants present also varied greatly.
This isn't exactly a flower so I can't count it in my wildflower list but these vibrant green and red succulents are just really cool plants. They dominated some of the slopes on Iron Mountain, turning entire rock walls and patches of soil into a dizzying red/green blend.
This little bird was found about half way up the mountain chirping with his buddies. Patrick has a good base knowledge of ornithology and is pretty sure this is a black-capped chickadee, although we weren't able to find any confirmation in our wildlife guide books back at the apartment. Still, fun to watch and listen too.
Another great view across the valley. I love the way the clouds just sweep over the landscape. For some reason the clouds during our hike seemed to be moving at a ridiculous speed. As you will see later the clouds began to interact with us a little more directly as we got higher.
Wildflower #18: Don't know what this pretty yellow inflorescence is. The flower has a bent stem which droops the flower to face downward.
This picture, and a bunch of the following photos, are some of my favorite pictures because we had hiked up to the level of the clouds, and as the would sweep through (constantly) they would envelop your entire world in whiteness to the point where you wouldn't be able to see more than 30 meters or so. The picture above is a turn in the trail where it drops off an edge several hundred feet, and I just love the way it looks like you could just step off into nothing.
Again, I love the way the clouds make the rock wall in the background appear ghostly and ominous.
This birdie, found a little farther upslope, is a Chestnut-backed Chickadee. Patrick and I are certain about this identification. The rust (or chestnut I guess) coloration on the back really makes this species stand out.
Ghost trees marching out of the clouds.
The trail in the bottom left just seems to disappear.
If it was a clear day for this photo, you would see an incredible view for several miles at some other peaks nearby (Cone Peak & Browder Ridge).
Another "end of the earth" photo.
Approaching the summit, Patrick and I had to crawl/climb/hike over this drifts of snow which were many feet taller than either of us. If the snow wasn't as hard-packed as it was there was no way this hike would have been possible.
A brief break in the barrage of clouds allows for a higher elevation view at a lone road winding its way between dark green peaks.
This picture is taken from the summit when a cloud cleared just in time for me to snag this one photo looking down towards part of the trail we had come up on. Really neat rock formations.
This might be my favorite photo so far. The sunlit blue sky and puffy cumulus clouds just seem to sit on top of the darker and faster moving lower clouds which in turn shroud the green and white earth. It was an unbelievable sight to experience, it was like the heavens opening up on top of the mountain.
This is the sign at the parking lot where we started out hike. I put the camera into "Western" digital effect mode. Something about this photo just reminds me of watching old western movies at my Grandpa's when I was little..."Tombstone Pass" is definitely where a gang of bandits hung out.
Today (Sunday) I arranged with Patrick a way for me to fulfill one of my goals during my time out here. He had to go complete some work with his adviser at Browder's Ridge where we were the day before so he was able to drop me off at Clear Lake on the way. The trail head for the McKenzie River National Recreation Trail is located at Clear Lake and runs 26 miles down to the town of McKenzie Bridge. I rode my apartment-mate's nice mountain bike the entire length of the trail in what was really my first serious foray into single-track mountain biking.
The trail beat me up, plain and simple. Not only was it 26 miles, but it was 26 miles of trail I had to be alert for every second of. This is one of the many bridges you cross during the trek.
One of the first sights I came upon just a few miles in was this pool called "Great Springs". If I claimed that Lookout Creek near the HJA Headquarters had clear water, I was mistaken. This pool of water was so blue, and so clear, I would have thought it was fake if I wasn't the one taking the photo.
At the edge of the pool I could here a gurgling noise, and sure enough, it seems the pool was properly named as in the side of the rocky bank there was a hole about 2 inches across and water was just gushing out non-stop. It was truly amazing to really witness an actual spring where; watching water from the depths of the earth being channeled to the surface.
The two pictures above were more or less indicative of the entire section along the edge of Clear Lake. The trail wove its way over piles upon piles of volcanic rock which was very interesting to be on top of, just not fun to ride on. Even hikers were having a hard time, and I found that I had to carry my bike for a few miles during this portion of the ride.
I did get some wonderful views of Clear Lake though!
I should have known I was in for trouble when a hiker asked me, "Where is the blood on your legs?" Of course, only ten minutes later I came around a bend too fast and a huge volcanic rock point was jutting out on the left side and clipped my back wheel as it swung around. It sent me flying off the side of the bike as the bike crashed sideways into rocks on the right side of the trail and I landed hard on my back, arms, and legs. I was saved from any real injury through the sacrifice of my nifty "Platypus" water bottle which is a pouch-like water bottle which can fold up when not in use. Well, it was in use, and when my back (with my backpack containing the water bottle) landed on a pointed rock it exploded my water bottle...and obliterated my banana. So, only a few miles in and I was already without water and banana.
Eventually the path became paved, but the 2 foot wide path still wound around piles of what looked like gigantic pumice stones, and some of the turns were so sharp that going in with any speed (or not enough) would toss you around the rocks like a rag doll. I am definitely going to revisit this part of the trail to run, but not on a bike.
Right around the time I got to Sahalie Falls the trail started to become more what I had in mind, and I still had at least 20 miles to go. I heard the falls before I felt it, and I felt it before I saw it. The thundering falls created a mist cloud which permeated the forest all around making for a magical experience seeing this falls from the cliff's edge.
Wildflower #19: I actually spotted these flowers (they look like some sort of Jack-in-the-Pulpit) across the falls. They appeared almost like a crowd of onlookers on the edge of the river enjoying the falls and swaying under its powerful breath.
For just a couple miles the trail was perfect. The packed dirt and needles trail (left side of photo) followed closely to the raging McKenzie River (right side of photo) so each turn and rise in the trail seemed to mimic a crash or rush in the river.
The river from a craggy edge above.
Another view of the splendid pine needle single-track.
So, if I said Great Springs was clear water, I am sorry. I misspoke, again. I coasted around a bend to see it drop off to a rocky cliff. When I peered over the cliff my mind became officially mush. Below was a gigantic pool of water that was (yes I am going to say it) perfectly blue. The bottom must have been 20 to 30 feet deep at some points and you could still make out every single rock, even from the other side of the water. This is Tamolitch Pool. I will definitely be making it back out there for a swim sometime soon, regardless of how cold the water is.
As beautiful as the pool was, it did mark the beginning of another grueling section of the trail to come. You will notice I don't have any photos of the next 5 miles of trail winding through more black volcanic rock as every second I wasn't completely focused on the task at hand I ended up on the ground.
It looks like a painting, even when you are actually there.
Boy was I glad to see more single-track at this point, almost halfway done.
No more volcanic rock, but the trail was still as technical as anything I have ever seen. Catching my back wheel on a boulder like one of those was never fun.
The last 10-13 miles of the trail were absolute heaven. Still treacherous and technical the trail no longer had the obtrusive volcanic rock piles and allowed for more high speed turns and maneuvering. My apartment-mate's bike, with its 6 inches of travel in the front shocks, and 29 inch wheels gobbled up small roots and rocks like another and gripped like mad around the bends. This photo is only about five minutes before the second of my three bad wipeouts. The trail although more adapted to speed at this point, still had its dangers. It often would become the entirety of a ridge on the side of a slope, offering little to no wiggle-room as far as putting a tire edge off the trail. I found this out the hard way when I came around a bend going at a solid speed and hit a slick spot of mud which tailed my back wheel over the edge. I fell about 10 feet down the slope before I grabbed a root, and thankfully, the bike before I (or it) fell much further. It took me a full ten minutes to climb that steep ten feet and get the bike back on the trail.
My final crash happened as I sped down an decline and leaned just a little too much into the next turn. My left hand gripping the handlebar slammed into a tree right on the edge of the trail as if I had punched it at 20 mph. I got bucked off the bike and slid a few feet down the dirt pathway. Except for my hand it wasn't bad at all as the soft soil helped to minimize the impact of my landing.
26 miles later, exhausted, dirty, bloody and happy.
What a bike.
