(Click on any picture for larger view and slide show)
In
my ongoing quest to complete the 79-mile N.U.T. (North Umpqua Trail) by the
year’s end (which may actually happen earlier than I thought) I decided to take
on one section which I haven’t been particularly looking forward to. This would
be the 4 mile Calf segment of the N.U.T.
I had 2 reasons for not relishing this
part of the trail. For one, this is where the 2002 Apple fire had left it’s unpleasant
mark on the trail and hillside. And two, the trail is within sight of the highway
for well over half it’s length, giving you that civilized and not-so-secluded
feeling. And as everyone knows, seclusion is one of the many reasons we all
hike.
However, it was part of the trail, and I had to hike it nonetheless,
shamelessly using it to achieve my own selfish goal.
I
figured since I would have company in the form of vehicle traffic just a stone’s
throw away across the river, why not have some human companionship too? So I decided
to take my youngest son Colby with me. And I did so without any hesitancy, as I
knew his years of ADHD-motivated pacing made him the perfect candidate for keeping
up with me on this relatively flat portion of the trail. In fact, I wouldn’t
hesitate to drag Colby anywhere I hike, for I know his legs are in better shape
than mine. (As I sit writing this within an hour after our hike, he is pacing back
and forth in the house, as if the 8 miles he just finished never happened. I hate
youth…)
We
arrived at the trailhead with clear blue skies above us, and the temperature
hovering right at freezing. On the bright side, we had no wind chill factor to
factor in on this day, so all was well. Literally speaking however, on the
not-so bright side, the trail would run along the north side of the hill, offering
us a predictable sunless hike, with Mr. Sun shining his teasingly glow on the opposite
hillside across the river.
The
first part of the trail was crispy and crunchy under our feet, as we walked
upon frozen earth and thin layers of ice crystals. It was a nice contrast to
the landscape, being a bit charred from the fire about a dozen years ago. There
were plenty signs of life, however, as the undergrowth had already returned,
and young trees taller than myself had already begun their upward climb towards
the sky.
The
trail hugged the river, never straying too far above it, but never getting
quite close enough to make a quick jaunt to the water’s edge, just so you can
dip your foot into it’s icy chill. Not that I wanted to on this day, but it would’ve
been tempting in the summer.
With
the river constantly babbling at us and a random vehicle passing by every now
and then, we encountered more moss covered rocky hillsides than I had seen in a
long time. Seeing all this emerald green lushness, it was hard to imagine incredible
heat and destruction had passed through here not so long ago. So far, this hike
wasn’t as bleak as I had envisioned it would be, but it still hadn’t impressed
me much.
About
a mile or so from Calf Creek, which was our turn around point, the river took a
horseshoe bend to the south before turning back toward the north. They call
this part of the river Horseshoe Bend. Go figure. It was here, however, that
the trail suddenly transformed from an ugly duckling to a swan…
The
steep hillside, which had been on one side of us, unexpectedly leveled out,
revealing a great view of the terrain through sun-filtered trees. As the trail curved
south, we were greeted with those warm, elusive rays, which are highly coveted
this time of year. As a bonus, the road, which thus far had been a constant
companion, had disappeared far up the opposite hillside out of view, leaving
just me, my son, and my other ‘sun’ in the seclusion which, as previously
mentioned, is a reason we hike.
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I think he's happy that the sun arrived
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With a renewed pep in our step, we took in views of the horseshoe bend in the river below, pausing to take a few pictures and a quick snack along the way. We circled around to the south, then to the northeast, eventually leaving the sunlit trail, but maintaining a great view of the river below.
We soon reached the end of the Calf segment of the N.U.T. at Calf Creek (go figure), checked the gps at exactly 4 miles, and then turned around.
We hadn’t had a proper sit-down lunch stop yet, so we decided to veer off-trail just a bit (one of my favorite hike-things to do) and found a nice sun-drenched log near the river. After sharing a pepperoni stick and an apple, Colby and I hit the trail again and proceeded further down river.
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Saving a tree... wow, he's so strong
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As we neared the end of the day’s hike, I thought about this portion of the trail, and what it looks like from the road just on the opposite side of the river. I’ve always observed it from that angle and thought to myself “Well, that doesn’t look like too appealing of a hike, does it?”…
At first glance, the Calf segment is sort of like the ugly step-sister of trails when compared to the rest of the prettier and more popular segments of the trail. It has scars, right there in plain view of all who drive by it.
But, just like in fairytales, once you get past the surface and take a closer look for yourself, the real beauty is revealed in ways you didn’t expect. I believe this happened today...
