A Muddy Hike Through the Labyrinth

Although I try to ski as much as possible during the winter months, due to crowded slopes, I refuse to ski on weekends.  So when the weather provides a dry weekend day, I rally my friends for a hike.  Which is what I did one sunny, but chilly late January day, recruiting my hiking (and skiing) buddies Young and John.

An icy Labyrinth Falls

John suggested we travel further east in the Columbia River Gorge and check out the Labyrinth Trail.  A favorite hike for all of us, it's a great place to visit in the winter, as well as spring and fall (but way too hot for my liking in the summertime!)  Sadly, this area was decimated by a large wildfire last July, and had been closed ever since.  But recently reopened for hiking, my friends wanted to check out the damage.

At trail's beginning

On a sunny, but very cold morning, John piloted his truck towards the Labyrinth trailhead, located on the side Washington State Route 14.  As my friends and I changed into boots and loaded our backpacks, John made a terrible discovery.  In his haste to get out of the house that morning, he'd forgotten to grab both his and Young's trekking poles.  Although not totally necessary, the poles provided stability on downhill trails, as well as saving wear and tear on the knees.  The older I get, the more I depend on my trekking poles to avoid falls.  So my friends weren't too happy about hiking sans-poles.

Brown trees - evidence of last summer's fire 

But we were already here, and John wasn't about to drive home to get their poles, so down the trail we went.  This hike began on an abandoned road, the asphalt slowly deteriorating.  Not far from the trailhead, we passed by a lovely little cascade, informally named "Labyrinth Falls."  Cold evening temperatures had caused frosty icicles to form on the surrounding vegetation.  So beautiful!  I even spotted a tiny rainbow near the waterfall's base.

In some places, the trail was a nice rock-paved path

After a half mile of asphalt trekking, my friends and I came to the official trailhead.  Rocky promontories rose up from the surrounding hills and the ground was covered in bright green vegetation.  So unusual to see these green slopes in January!  Sadly, any tree left standing bore dry, brown leaves - a somber reminder of the past summer's wildfire.

More reminders of the fire

It was here the climbing began.  We wandered up, up, up through rocky outcrops of columnar basalt, winding through a few narrow gaps and passing beside a cliffy area.  Kind of like going through a maze, I think this is what gave the Labyrinth it's name.  My friends and I passed by another pretty waterfall, sadly now framed by lifeless, brown trees.

The lone ridgetop tree survived

My friends and I clambered atop a high ridge and gaped at the Columbia River spread out below.  I recognized a prominent lone oak tree situated at a high point, and was relieved to see that it had survived the fire.

Walking through a very rocky slope

After about a mile of climbing, we came to a trail junction.  Turning east, my friends and I followed a fairly level path as it contoured across a wide open meadow, now littered with rocks and burned out trees.

Huge hole in the side of this tree!

Past a large tree with an enormous hole on the side (a great place for birds and animals to take shelter) we hiked a winding path that took us downhill and then through a forest that had been absolutely torched by the fire.

More fiery devastation

It was especially sad to see the blackened tree trunks and scorched forest floor.  Further along, we walked through a rocky area, the barren boulders dark with ash.  Not much green growing here.  The only good thing about this wildfire, it did open up the views ahead to tall cliffs near the Catherine Creek area.

Views through the trees

Wandering around the area directly below these cliffs, I spotted the first purple grass widow of the season.  Such a surprise!  These tiny wildflowers usually don't start blooming until late February at the earliest.  Wow, this was way too early!  A consequence of this unusually mild winter.

Looking up at Catherine Creek ridge

My friends and I then began our climb to the top of the cliffs.  Following a beaten path through a large talus slope, we huffed and puffed our way to the wide plateau above.  Then we all followed the cliff's edge, climbing higher.  Our goal was an old track called Atwood Road, which we would follow back towards the Labyrinth.

First grass widow of the season - way too early!

The early morning's cold temperatures kept the trails frozen and firm as my friends and I had hiked through the Labyrinth and on the side trail towards the cliffs.  But by midday radiant heat from the sun's rays had warmed things up enough to start melting the firm, icy ground.  After veering away from the cliff's edge, we started following an old dirt road towards the top of ridge and Atwood Road, and found this track coated with thick, slippery mud.  It was so bad everyone had trouble keeping traction while slogging uphill.  I felt especially sorry for Young and John - without their trekking poles providing some stability, conditions were doubly treacherous.

Climbing up the cliff face

After what seemed like a very long trudge, my friends and I finally arrived at the junction with Atwood Road.  Climbing done, it was time for a mostly level trek back to the Labyrinth trail.  Unfortunately, we discovered Atwood Road was just as muddy and slippery.  Gingerly, we all made our way along this next leg of our hike.

Hiking along the clifftops

Happily some of the forest along Atwood Road had been spared the wildfire's flames and appeared to be green and intact.  Diving into these forested areas, we discovered much lower temperatures in the shade.  The surrounding air was still cold enough to keep the muddy trail frozen - at least firm enough that we could walk without slipping and sliding.  A welcome break!

Young inspecting a large, blackened tree

The shady, treed areas along Atwood Road were so cold that in some areas I discovered large patches of hoarfrost still intact.  A white, feathery type of frost that forms through sublimation, or water vapor turning directly into ice, hoarfrost is created during cold, calm nights.  My friends and I poked at the delicate, hair-like crystals, marveling at the fact that Mother Nature could generate such intricate formations.  It appeared as if these icy spires had grown right out of the mud!

Hoarfrost on Atwood Road

Now way past noon, my tummy was rumbling mightily.  I implored John to make a lunch stop soon.  However, he wanted to find a spot with a view, and remembered there were a few places not far away.  So on we trudged, until coming to a large clearing with some fantastic wide-open Gorge panoramas.  Insisting that we make this our lunch spot, my friends and spread out our sitting pads (because the ground here was quite muddy!) and took a load off.  John was right - having lunch with this spectacular view was worth the wait.

Very interesting phenomenon!

After satisfying our hunger - both our tummies with food and our eyes with views, it was time again to get back to struggling through the muddy trail.  After sliding around for another half mile, my friends and I came to the Upper Labyrinth trail junction.  Now all we had to do was walk downhill for two miles to get back to John's truck.

Lunch with a view

Downhill - of course that was the problem.  This Upper Labyrinth trail was as slick with mud as Atwood Road had been.  Plus throw in the fact that it veered steeply downhill made for extremely treacherous conditions.  Here is where trekking poles would come in not only handy, but necessary for stopping sliding feet.  Now John was kicking himself for forgetting his and Young's.

Sweeping river views

However, my friends and I wanted to get back to the parking area, and this trail was the shortest way down.  So gingerly, we began our descent.  We all quickly found out that walking in the muddy tread wasn't going to work.  Instead, my friends and I chose to place our feet on the grassy area next to the trail, which we found to be much more stable.  Yes, I know technically you're not supposed to hike off-trail, but in the name of safety we chose to bend the rules a tiny bit.

Rocky promontories

Although the grassy area next to the trail was also soft at least it wasn't near as muddy.  My friends and I were able to quickly cover this steep segment back to our original junction with the trail heading towards Catherine Creek.  From there, it was a repeat of the morning's trek, however this time with more mud.  Passing by the largest of the columnar basalt outcrops, I was surprised to see a group of rock climbers rappelling off its near-vertical faces.

This block of columnar basalt was being used by rock climbers

Despite missing their trekking poles, Young and John did very well navigating the muddy trail and grassy edges.  Luckily no one fell and the only casualty was extremely dirty boots and pant legs.

Lovely green vegetation lines the trail

Another great day to be outside!  Despite the fire damage, the Labyrinth trail was still outstanding, with wide-open views, green landscapes, and even a couple of very early season wildflowers.  I could have done without the mud, but it does make for a good story.

Return to Hardy Ridge

It was early December and after a few days of rain, a dry day was predicted.  With no snow in the mountains yet, skiing wasn't happening.  Itching to get in some sort of outdoor activity I decided to go for a hike in the Columbia River Gorge.  Not wanting to drive very far, I picked my favorite standby, the Hardy Ridge Trail.  Climbing a respectable 2400 feet in elevation over about four miles it takes hikers to a wide open ridge with outstanding views of the Columbia River and Mt. Hood.

Moss-covered trees and Columbia River view

Hardy Ridge was a place I used to visit often.  As a matter of fact, in 2022 I set a bunch of hiking goals, one being to hike this trail once a month throughout the year (sadly a bad case of plantar fasciitis put a stop to that.)  Post injury, my hiking here was quite sporadic, and due to fitness and time issues, I hadn't made it to the top of the ridge in quite awhile.  Maybe today was the day? 

The Hardy Ridge trail sign rests against a large rock

However, there was one important thing I'd forgotten to factor into my planned hike - wind.  Due to the nature of the steep cliffs rising from river level, air currents are funneled through this narrow opening, making the Columbia River Gorge notorious for being a windy place.  Although I'd consulted the weather forecast the night before, I'd neglected to notice anything beyond the lack of precipitation.

Wispy fog creeps between the trees

So imagine my surprise when I was greeted by strong gusts after pulling into the parking lot.  From previous experience I knew the gales would just get stronger as I gained elevation.  Hmmm....this might put a damper on my plans to reach the top of Hardy Ridge.  But I was already here and really needed some outdoor time.  Deciding to go as far uphill as I could, the new plan was to cut my hike short and retreat back into the forest if the wind was too strong. 

Clearing skies up on Phlox Point

The first 2 1/2 miles of the hike was a pleasant climb through thick fir woods along a series of abandoned roads.  Then the trail steepened and transitioned to a traditional narrow path as it wound uphill.  Huffing and puffing, I slowly made my way towards Hardy Ridge, buffeted by an occasional gust of wind.

Mount Hood peeking out between the clouds

About a half mile before the ridgetop there was a junction, marked by a sign (which today for some reason had been knocked down and placed against a large rock.)  Hikers could either continue uphill to Hardy Ridge or descend via another trail.  Decision time - should I continue on?

Looking across the valley to Table Mountain

Although the wind was still blowing quite strongly, I reasoned it wasn't too bad.  I'd certainly dealt with much higher gusts in past hikes.  Why not go a bit farther?  

Now I can see Mt. Hood!

So up the steep, scrambly trail I went.  I immediately became engulfed in a thick fog bank.  It was surprising to see fog when the winds were blowing so strongly.  (Don't winds usually blow clouds away?)  However I'd hoped to take in some of the marvelous views Hardy Ridge is known for - it didn't look like I'd get to see much today.

After passing through a small mountain meadow, the trail followed the crest of a rock outcropping.  Totally exposed, the wind was especially ferocious here.  But I hurried across and quickly dipped down into a small forested area, where the trees offered a shield from the gusts.  From the forest I alternated between clearings and brushy areas.  Although the wind was still raging, it didn't feel dangerously strong.

 A closer view

Finally the trail emerged out of the trees for the last time and began to follow the rocky spine of Hardy Ridge.  There was one final climb, a steep talus slope took hikers to Phlox Point, the highest and most scenic part of the ridge.  Picking my way through the large boulders of this slope, I realized the fog was beginning to lift.  Looking back, I could see wisps of fog streaming through the forest.  It was such an impressive sight, I just had to capture several images.

I spotted a few sundogs shining through the fog

After a lot of slow ascent, I finally reached the very top of Phlox Point and was ecstatic to find the fog had pretty much lifted at this elevation.  Looking across the Columbia River, I could see clouds still swirling around Mt. Hood, and she peeked in and out of their foggy curtains.  But it appeared to be clearing not only around the mountain but also in the valleys below me.

Lunch views

As I walked across the final ridge, searching for a wind-sheltered lunch spot, I was delighted to notice several sun dogs shimmering through the faint fog below me.  That's not something you see every day!

The mighty Columbia River shining in the afternoon sun

Sitting on the leeward side of a few stunted bushes, I enjoyed a relatively wind-free lunch, while taking in the views below.  As I ate, the fog began clearing away until I could see both Mt. Hood and the entire Columbia River Gorge unobscured.

More impressive sunbeams

My trip back down was absolutely delightful.  I was treated to the expansive views of the Gorge that I'd missed on my way up.  Mt. Hood emerged from the clouds, shiny white after receiving a tiny bit of snowfall.  As I once again entered the forest, sunlight streamed through the tree branches, creating more colorful sundogs.  And now quite used to being blown around, the wind didn't bother me in the least.  But sunset comes early in December, and after getting a late start on my hike, I had to hustle back down the trail in order to make it to my car before dark.  (Don't worry, I did!)

Quiet forest road

A successful hike!  Not only had I braved the less-than-ideal weather, I'd finally made it all the way up to the very top of Hardy Ridge.  And it was a great day to be outside.  The total milage came to 9 miles and 2400 feet of elevation gain.  I'd be sore and tired the following day, but totally worth it.

The Wood Duck Pond

During the winter months, when not skiing or hiking, I'm often found with my camera perusing the local parks and nature areas in search of interesting birds to photograph.  Although some of my feathered friends migrate, quite a few species stick around all year.

A gorgeously colored male wood duck

One of my favorite birds to photograph is the wood duck.  The males sport stunning multicolored plumage and eerie, bright red eyes.  Although wood ducks are not super common in my area, a few flocks of them are known to inhabit certain local ponds.  One, adjacent to a nearby business park, provides the most reliable source of wood duck sightings.

Looking at his reflection

One sunny January afternoon, having a few hours free, I decided to head over to the wood duck pond to see if I could spot any of these colorful waterfowl.  The pond is located in the middle of a linear greenway between several large office buildings and a local library branch.  It's a serene place to take a walk, with wide pathways linking the many small water features scattered throughout.  After taking in the huge flocks of Canada geese that always seem to overwhelm the basin next to the library, I continued along the walkway for a short distance until arriving at the wood duck pond.

More wood duck reflections

Luck was with me that day!  I immediately spotted several wood duck couples along the pond's forested shoreline.  Of course seeing me approach toting a large white lens, they all turned tail and swam in the opposite direction.

Female wood duck fishing for dinner

However, after many years of wildlife photography now under my belt, I knew if I just stood still and waited, the ducks would return.  Which is what they eventually did.  

A ducky couple

And then it was game on!  Positioning myself on a pedestrian bridge spanning one end of the pond provided a great vantage point.  One male duck in particular kept swimming into a sunny area of the pond quite close to where I stood.  The bright sunlight illuminated his iridescent feathers wonderfully as well as providing some nice reflections in the water below him.

Female wood duck in beautiful light

Although not quite as spectacularly colored, the female wood ducks are also beautiful.  Although mostly brown, their back feathers have a small bit of blue-green iridescent hues nestled in between the regular browns.  (Why is it always the male birds that get the attractive colors?)

This wood duck had some sort of food

The wood ducks get their name from their habit of nesting in tree cavities close to water.  Although some are migratory, 75% of the wood ducks in the Pacific flyway stay close to home.  In the wood duck pond that I visited on this day, the ducks here live year-round.

Ring-necked duck

After a successful photography session, I left the wood duck pond with hundreds of images on my camera's memory card.  Passing by a few more water features on the way back to my car, I captured a beautiful ring-necked duck, water droplets beading on his oily feathers, and an inquisitive golden-crowned sparrow. 

Golden crowned sparrow giving me the eye

Hope you've enjoyed these "birdy" photos from my neck of the woods!  

A Winter Hike to Dry Creek Falls

This winter the mountain snowfall has been slow to come.  Our local ski resorts, which are usually open by mid to early December, stayed closed until nearly Christmastime.  Although the mountains got moisture in early January, it fell as rain, shrinking what little snowpack they had.

What's a bunch of die-hard skiers to do?  Go take a hike!

Bridge over Herman Creek

So one day in early January I rallied my skiing and hiking friends Young and John, as well as my dear hubby, for a hike in the Columbia River Gorge.

Lovely Herman Creek

Not only had this winter's unseasonably warm and rainy weather been tough on the snowpack, it also wreaked havoc in the Columbia River Gorge.  A series of "atmospheric rivers" (torrential amounts of warm rain) in December triggered landslides which damaged several Gorge trails.  Luckily, the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) near the town of Cascade Locks was still intact, and became my hike of choice for the day.  The plan was to travel westward from the Herman Creek Trailhead, intercept the PCT and follow it to Dry Creek Falls, a lovely cascade located at the end of an impressive basalt canyon.

Fern-lined trail

After a week of nearly constant rainfall, the day of my hike dawned to cloudy, but dry skies.  The forecast called for rain later in the day, so my friends and I made sure to bring rain jackets and covers for our backpacks just in case.  From the trailhead, we sauntered for a mile through a forest full of large ferns and moss-covered trees.

Brilliant green moss brightened the forest

Our trail brought us downhill to a crossing of Herman Creek via a large wooden bridge.  From mid-span my friends had a great vantage of the water below.  Swollen by recent rainfall the creek was churning mightily, swirling around large boulders, a beautiful chaos of blue and white rapids.

Foggy mountains rose above us

From the bridge it was an uphill slog to our junction with the PCT.  Although the distance was probably only a half mile, it seemed to take forever.  Good thing there was a lovely, mossy forest to distract us from our misery.

Photo ops from the trail

Once we reached the PCT it was a fairly level trek through several talus slopes and foggy woods.  In one area tall, green mountains towered prominently above the trail.  In another the trees parted to give cloudy peek-a-boo views of the Columbia River.

Hikers in action

After a bit of walking my friends and I came to a creek crossing the trail.  Although there wasn't a bridge or a log to use, the creek was small enough we could make it across with a bit of creative rock hopping.

Crossing a small creek

Looking uphill of the crossing, I could see a waterfall sandwiched in the narrow canyon above.  This cascade was called Pacific Crest Falls, the name a nod to the trail in which its outflow crossed.

Pacific Crest Falls

Just around the bend from the creek crossing was an interesting area where several large pointed rock pillars rose mysteriously above the trail.  These unusual formations were called the "Herman Creek Pinnacles."  Thick fog in the area gave the pinnacles an especially ghostly atmosphere.

Foggy Herman Creek Pinnacles

After a few photos of this most unusual area, my friends and I continued down the PCT.  There were a few up and downs and more mossy woods cloaked in thick fog.  But lucky for us, the skies were staying dry so far.

It was a very foggy day!

There are two ways to access Dry Creek Falls.  One is from the east, taking the PCT from the Herman Creek Trailhead (our day's chosen hike) and the other, shorter route, following the PCT from the west trailhead at Cascade Locks.  Naturally, the shorter route was much more popular.  

Back along the trail

My friends and I hadn't encountered many hikers thus far, but this all changed once we reached the junction with the short side trail to Dry Creek Falls.  After crossing Dry Creek via an elaborate wooden footbridge, we took the spur trail uphill to the waterfall.  This trail was full of people, all coming from the west, and all heading for the same destination.

Taking the side trail to Dry Creek Falls

Dry Creek Falls is one of the Gorge's many spectacular waterfalls.  Located in the end of a tall canyon of columnar basalt, its approach is most dramatic.  Recent heavy rainfall had washed a huge pile of logs into the creek directly below and eroded some of the bank area.

Dry Creek Falls

Reaching the waterfall my friends and I took a few photo ops, then crossed to the opposite side of the creek and found a place on the bank for a lunch break.  We entertained ourselves by watching people come and go.  Some just walked up and snapped a few pictures, while others clambered over the washed out riverside area in an attempt to get a closer vantage.  With the unstable soil and precarious log pile, I was fearful we'd witness someone slip and fall - but thankfully nothing happened.

Lunch spot

It was nice to have a break - especially in such a beautiful place!  The mossy, basalt cliffs were so interesting and scenic.  Dry Creek Falls is of my favorite Gorge waterfall locations.

PCT bridge spanning Dry Creek

After finishing our lunches, my friends and I shouldered our backpacks, and retraced our steps back down the spur trail and across the PCT footbridge.  Once on the other side, the amount of hikers dropped off dramatically.  We nearly had the trail to ourselves again.

One of many large talus slopes

Then it was just a matter of following the PCT back to the Herman Creek trail.  By the time we crossed the talus slopes again, the clouds cloaking the Columbia River views had lifted and I was treated to a much better river vantage.

Columbia River view

Once back at the trailhead, we ended our day with a beer at a local pub in the nearby town of Cascade Locks.  My friends and I had covered a little over 9 miles and 2100 feet of elevation gain.  And best of all - the forecasted rain had held off the entire time!

A great hike!

I guess if I can't ski, at least there are beautiful trails close to home that I can hike.  But do I love skiing so I'm hoping the snow gods will pull through soon with a big mountain blizzard.  Time to do some more snow dances!