I chose that title because it was the one used by Bilbo Baggins for his memoirs, and this hike had me feeling very hobbit-like. Today's trek was to Larch Mountain (and back) and started on the historical Columbia Highway at a spot a mile or so east of Multnomah Falls (I've always felt like Multnomah Falls was like the Wizard of Oz; it looks impressive and sounds thunderous from below, but when you get to the top it's rather placid and dull). From this trail head, you are dropped off at the second of the 11 switchbacks leading up to the top of the falls. All the way up the trail you are taunted at every other turn with a sign telling you which switchback you are on. You would think after walking over a mile you would at least come out at number seven or eight. This is the hardest part of the hike to me, mostly because there are often large numbers of people to pass and because it's rather monotonous. But once you are past the top of the falls, it turns into a part of the shire with beautiful ferns, waterfalls, and looming trees. Mossy fingers seemed to reach down in places as the sun slowly made its way to the top of the ridge. I had forgotten how shady much of this hike is and my sunglasses spent most of their time on top of my head. Parts of the trail were very rocky, and I imagine even hobbit feet would soon grow weary of the rocks. As the trail continues along the
river, it reverts for a time to soft dirt and pine needles. Unfortunately, that doesn't last long. There are numerous rock slides along the trails in the gorge and the Larch Mountain trail is no exception. The good thing is there are only two rock slides to worry about, the bad thing is that one of them is quite long. This part of of the trail reminded me of Mt. Doom, with its steep slopes covered in jagged loose rocks. Luckily for me there weren't any unpleasant creatures like Gollum waiting on the other side. After what seemed like miles but was probably the same distance as my apartment door to the street, I was back on more stable ground. Then it was a long trek at a steady upward angle for another mile or so. This part went by fairly quickly. Near the top of this first upward
pull is what appears to be an old rock wall. I would love to find out the history of it. Usually there is a handy dandy historical marker nearby with such helpful bits of trivia as "site of first picnic with plastic forks" but alas, nothing like that is to be seen. The trail splits here and my speculation is that the right-hand trail goes to the middle parking lot of the Larch Mountain trail. I didn't take the time to find out as the trail went downhill and I had no interest in going down only to have to come back up. Speaking of up, I discovered that on this trail whenever there was a choice to be made as to which direction to go, it was the trail that went uphill 99% of the time. That must be one of Murphy's lesser known laws. As the trail continues up (notice a trend here?) the trees seem to change and suddenly it feels as if you've wondered into a part of some elvish forest. I felt very small here and it was all I could do to say "Toto, we're not in the Shire anymore." I know, wrong book, but you get the idea. From here, it's not that much farther to the parking lot (yes, civilization is always lurking nearby) and then up to the viewpoint at Sherrard Point. On a clear day, one can see Mt. Hood, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. Jefferson. All the peaks were out today except for Jefferson. There was just too much haze in that general direction. Finding the trail to head back is rather interesting. You have to go down the paved road until the first guardrail appears. About 2/3 of the way through the turn, there's a break in the guardrail and the trail starts up again. It's very intuitive. I mean, I always look for trails near guardrails, right? From here it's a mostly straight shot down with occasional forks in the trail that are fairly well marked. And again, any time there is a fork in the road, it's always the trail going up. One note about the trail markers, some of them must have been put up by a Paul Bunyan type because they are way above eye level.
The Shire makes another appearance as the trail winds through more normal sized trees. After awhile, you can hear the sounds of the river again and soon you're walking alongside mini-falls and across several log bridges (with a handrail on one side) until you come upon Triple Falls. The trail continues down until there is another fork. This time, going straight down leads to Horsetail Falls and continuing on the more level path leads back to the same trail head you started at. Coming down this trail from the opposite direction was almost disorienting, until I saw my car parked across the road and knew I really was back again.
PS I can't explain the spacing in this post, maybe someday I'll learn to speak HTML.
Yes, I know, Virginia Woolf already wrote that story. But in this instance I really was trying to get to a lighthouse, just without all the angst associated with the other story. One of my favorite spots in the area is Sauvie Island. It has a small lighthouse on an equally small outcropping of rock called Warrior Rock. The story goes that in the late 1700's a British Naval expedition landed on Sauvie Island and was greeted by warriors of the Multnomah tribe. There was some trading between the two groups, and the point where they met was called Warrior Rock to commemorate the occasion. The lighthouse, Oregon's smallest and one of only two Oregon lighthouses not on the Pacific Ocean, guides river traffic on the Columbia. I have had several past attempts at hiking out to the lighthouse and Friday's adventure was yet another failed attempt, but at least this time I actually caught a glimpse of it. With a little imagination, the lighthouse can be seen at the end of the line of trees on the left in the picture above. Well, with maybe more than just a little imagination.
I had decided that the first sunny Friday in October I would take a vacation day to capture some fall colors. I was hoping it would be a little later in the month when there was more color, but when you live in such a temperamental state you take any sunny day you can get no matter when it comes along. So when this past Friday was predicted to be 70 and sunny, I put in my vacation request. When I left Portland around 9:30 in the morning it was almost clear. As I got closer and closer to Sauvie Island, it got cloudier and cloudier. I was not amused. I parked at one of the designated areas and started walking, looking for any sign of blue sky in the middle of all the gray. Finally, about noon, the skies started to clear. I sat on an old fallen tree eating carrots and humus and thoroughly enjoying the scene before me.
This particular part of the island has little traffic, especially this time of year, and each time I've been there it has the feeling of walking through a landscape painting or a picture in an old story book. This area has a trail that runs roughly parallel with the main road and then intersects it at a point where the other road turns to gravel. I was heading for this intersection and just happened to look over my shoulder to see a mountain peering at me over the canal.
Once the two roads intersect, it's a long straight walk to the trail head. There are numerous signs for Collins Beach along the way, which is a clothing optional spot. I was half tempted to jump out of the underbrush with my camera aimed at any unsuspecting sunbather just to see if I could get anyone to scurry away to take cover, but I decided I better not. After passing numerous cows and old barns, I finally found my way to the beach. I was going to take the trail out to the lighthouse and follow the coastline back but there was some trail construction going on so I decided to go out and back the same way.
