Central Oregon road trip, day three.

Woke up tired with a creaky knee. No matter, I headed off to see about Salt Creek Falls just up the road. It's the second highest waterfall in Oregon...

Remember that foreshadowing thing? Salt Creek Falls may have been there somewhere, but I couldn't see a trail for all the snow. Someday! In late summer!

Back on Highway 58 I pushed through a snow/rain shower toward Lillian Falls. A side road out of Oakridge leads to a moss-covered gravel road which leads to... rocks. And trees.

Did I mention the trees?

And snow. Point-two miles from the trailhead, after running over the fortieth obnoxiously large tree branch, the narrow road suddenly turned into snow. I skidded to a stop in eight inches of drift, tried to back up a little too quickly and sunk my tires deeper into the snow. (No cell phone reception, a twelve mile walk back to the main road and a cranky knee? Fabulous. Still, there was some perspective - maybe I'd get stuck in Oakridge and miss work on Monday!)

Slowly but surely I maneuvered my way out of the snow and back to the road. For a brief second I considered hoofing the point-two miles up the road to see if I could find the trailhead... And then my "check engine" light came on.

Ruh-roh

I begrudgingly backed slowly down the road for about a quarter mile until I found a safe place to turn around. Defeated, knee still creaking, seriously fretting about the car, I packed it in and headed back toward civilization. There were several interesting waterfall hikes in the Salem area that I planned to hit on the way home, but between the crying knee, car concern and persistent rain showers I opted to stay on I-5 until exit 299.

That Saturday in the mountains, though? Priceless. Necessary. Worth every penny I will spend on the car this week.

Returning drive soundtrack: Once More with Feeling, The Hazards of Love, Arcade Fire on shuffle

Central Oregon road trip, day two.

The next morning I hit the road early. Research the night before showed that there were a lot of waterfall hikes along Highway 58 on the way back to Eugene, and not wanting to backtrack until the following day (when I'd be backtracking anyway) I had decided to head south to some of the waterfalls along Highway 138.

First up was Fern Falls - a short hike along the river to a small but lovely waterfall.

but first, the most perfect trillium I have ever seen...

... and the reason I look down so much when hiking
(on the way back he was about a foot farther along)

Fern Falls was pretty charming despite its small stature. I especially love a waterfall that isn't just a spout of water coming over a cliff, no matter how voluminous that spout might be, and this one had character for sure. I watched it for a while before moving on.

fifty(ish) feet of sound

The color of the North Umpqua River along the trail was almost more impressive. Sometimes mountain rivers or creeks are crystal clear, sometimes they're deep blue. But the indescribable hue here reminded me of the (few) tropical paradises I've visited.

Crayola needs a new color

Next up was Susan Creek Falls. I am going on the record to state that this is my new favorite Oregon waterfall. I think it's the punchbowl at the bottom. Those kill me every time.

sixty minutes of zen - check

A short hike up from Susan Creek Falls is an area of Indian mounds - a sacred area where Native American boys approaching manhood would build stone piles, then spend the night in search of a vision from a guardian spirit who would teach them songs and prayers to guide them through life. I marveled at my luck being the only one on the trail and started the ascent.

A few hundred feet into the climb, I ran across this Oregon Iris. My new found interest in obsession with Oregon wildflowers delayed me a bit... And by "a bit," I mean, by about twenty minutes. Just with this one flower. I'd never seen anything like it.

you'd spend 20 minutes with this guy too, right?
I mean, look at it!

Naturally, as I climbed a little higher I crossed entire fields of the suckers. No matter. The first sighting is always the most brilliant.

Sitting atop a hill with views to surrounding mountains, the site itself was totally serene. I could see why it was chosen as a sacred spot.

edge of the path at the Indian mounds
(a cliff drop awaits you should you choose to venture farther)

Indian mounds stone piles
(not made by Indians - that area is protected)

I enjoyed the silence at the site, wandering among the visitor-made stone piles, observing the overgrown authentic stone piles, and saying a silent wilderness prayer for a little life clarity.

Then Chase showed up.

my arch nemesis

Galloping in my direction at full speed, barking the whole way, he skidded to a stop about five feet in front of me. (Chase: one, serenity: zero.) The apologetic owners eventually appeared. "He's friendly!", one promised. With that statement, Chase ran over, jumped onto me and licked me square on the lips.

Slight fear turned into major annoyance which then turned into complete nausea, in approximately ten seconds. With all the grace I could muster, I pushed past them and headed back to the falls, Chase running up every few minutes to remind me of his existence. Dogs do have very clean mouths, I reminded myself repeatedly on the way down the hill. (They do, right?)

I spent a good deal of time at Susan Creek Falls after that, just trying to regain the serenity I'd felt on the way up. In time it came and I moved on to Fall Creek Falls. A few hundred feet into that hike, I came upon two women with two dogs and, not wanting another Chase experience, I took the road less traveled up to Jobs Garden Trail just to get some space.

I'm still not sure what Jobs Garden Trail is all about. I guess it's some kind of geological marvel, but all I saw was a lot of cool moss and some big rocks.

I see George Washington frowning - what do you see?

On the way down from Jobs Garden I ran into the women and dogs returning. There was no jumping or licking involved. From anyone. That was nice.

Fall Creek Falls was worth the wait. Mossy, multi-leveled and wet, kind of like Wahkeena Falls. The trail looped up to the small mouth of the falls. It was interesting to see how such little water at the top resulted in so much noise at the bottom.

redundantly named Fall Creek Falls

The trail to and from the falls wove through a cliff of mossy boulders which reminded me of some of the caves we meandered through on the Inca Trail and in the Galapagos.

it's a face! I swear!

If I'd known then that I only had to drive a few hundred miles for those experiences... um, yeah, I still would've had those experiences.

All in all that was about eight miles of hiking, but there were more trails to be walked on the way back to Highway 58. I stopped briefly at the somewhat swanky Steamboat Inn for a coffee to go. A sign at the entrance requested "shoes, shirts and a modicum of cleanliness." Looking down at my muddy boots and Chase's pawprints on my pants and jacket, I shrugged and walked in. "Modicum" is subject to interpretation, after all. (They were very friendly and even rinsed out my mug with hot water before filling it with their strong brew.)

Caffeinated with coffee far better than the sludge from the lodge coffeepot that morning, I trudged onward. The path around Diamond Lake is supposed to be stunning so I turned right at the sign and wound around to the lodge area... only to be denied.

(hey!) no cars go

Note: literary folks might call this foreshadowing.

I managed a few shots of the ice-covered lake and Mount Thielsen, but by that time it was getting late, and I was cold and more tired than I expected to be. I headed back to the resort for a shower and some well deserved food and R&R.

Unfortunately, my timing coincided with a dozen fisherman telling tall tales in the bar, so I walked around the lake for a while until the noise subsided.

Crescent lake - south view

Crescent lake - north view

After a late dinner I was sitting by the fire pit enjoying the silence when Gary, sporting a skewer, and Terry, toting marshmallows, chocolate bars and graham crackers, asked if they could join me.

"But of course!"

Morning drive soundtrack: all things Wilco
Afternoon drive soundtrack: shuffle heavily favoring Bright Eyes

Central Oregon road trip, day one.

A few months ago LivingSocial offered a good deal for Crescent Lake Resort. I looked up the location and it turned out I'd driven through the area on the way to Klamath Falls in the fall of 2009. I remembered it being a very pretty drive... until I got to Oakridge and had to stop for tire chains because the rest of Highway 58 was a snow-covered mess, anyway.

It being May after a long winter, I knew hiking trails would be a crap shoot. But hey, if hiking failed I figured there were worse ways to spend a weekend than sitting around a mountain lake listening to birds and reading my new favorite book. So without knowing much about the resort or the area, I opted for a semi-local aventura.

Three days, a bum knee and a cranky car later, I have to say it was half-priced money well spent.

I hit the road early Friday evening after a particularly long work week. The drive was uneventful other than - against my better judgment - eating at Carl's Jr for the first (and possibly last) time. My iPod Nano shuffle kept me company, fortunately favoring the upbeat likes of the Beasties and Modest Mouse most of the way to keep me awake.

A few hours later Crescent Lake Resort welcomed me.

Well, a crazy dragon welcomed me. Whatever.

As I drove up fishermen were packing up their gear and things were winding down, so I headed to my cabin and settled in to read up on local hikes and get some rest.

my humble abode: Summit cabin

mountain quilts: you're doing it right

I left the window open so I could hear the silence, and around 3am woke up, came to my senses, closed the window and cranked the heat. Silly, silly city girl.