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!

Autumn at Silver Falls State Park

Hopefully you're not tired of all these fall color posts, because I have one more that I really want to share.  Besides the Columbia River Gorge, my other favorite local place to see autumn color is Silver Falls State Park.  Not only does this outstanding state park boast numerous beautiful waterfalls, it also puts on one the best leaf color shows of the season.  

Brilliant vine maple leaves

Silver Falls State Park's claim to fame is it's waterfalls.  Silver Creek winds through a deep basalt canyon, providing several steps for the water to drop off.  The park boasts a "Trail of Ten Falls" hike that takes visitors past ten cascades in a little over 7 miles.  

An explosion of color

In my opinion, mid to late October is the very best time to visit this spectacular park.  Autumn colors are usually peaking and sometimes early season rainfall has the waterfalls running full.  Plentiful maple trees explode into a frenzy of yellows and oranges, lining the canyon with dazzling hues.  An annual fall visit is almost always on my schedule.

South Falls

In late October, I rallied my buddy Kim to join me for a jaunt to check things out.  Because the leaves photograph better under overcast skies, I picked a day that was supposed to be cloudy with possible rain.  However, when I pulled into the parking lot, I was dismayed to see sunshine streaming from between the trees.

Following the trail behind South Falls

Ugh - bright sunlight creates harsh shadows and the contrast between bright white waterfalls and the surrounding landscape makes it difficult to get the proper exposure.  But I was here and the leaf color was popping, so I'd have to do the best I could.

South Falls and its rocky amphitheater

Kim, who had never hiked here in autumn, was more than thrilled to see the vibrant leaf color show.  The foliage surrounding the parking lot always sports some of the best vine maple colors in the entire area.  I especially loved the bright red hues.  Although I take copious photos here every year, I couldn't resist adding a few more to my catalog.  From the parking lot, we walked over to a viewpoint of South Falls.  However, the contrast between sun and shadow was so great I didn't take many photos from this viewpoint.  

At 177 feet South Falls had the distinction of being the second tallest waterfall in the park.  Sadly, a dry fall season thus far had its normal healthy flow reduced to a trickle.  

Yellow leaves along Silver Creek

From the top of the canyon, Kim and I followed a trail that took us to creek level.  One great thing about the trails here, they led visitors behind several of these stunning cascades.  The path circled around South Falls' wide, rocky amphitheater, before ducking right behind the falls itself.  I enjoyed this unique perspective behind its watery curtain.  So cool to watch this water stream tumbling down right in front of our faces!

Lower South Falls

From South Falls, Kim and I wandered along a trail paralleling Silver Creek.  Lots of bright yellow maple leaves decorated our path.  Progress was rather slow, as there was always a lovely scene to capture with my camera.

This section of the trail was gorgeous!

About a mile from South Falls, we switchbacked down a steep trail that led us to the foot of Lower South Falls, the next waterfall on our day's agenda.  At 93 feet in height, it wasn't as tall as grand South Falls, but just as stunning.  I loved how the water spilled artistically onto the rocks directly below its stream.  And just like South Falls, we could also walk behind this cascade.

Green ferns

From Lower South Falls, we sauntered another mile through quiet woods all the while following charming Silver Creek.  The surrounding forest was ablaze with yellow color, the mossy tree branches reaching out like ghostly arms.  Bright green ferns lined our path.

Lower North Falls

The next waterfall on our tour was tiny Lower North Falls.  At only 30 feet in height, it was often overlooked by people walking the loop trail.  But surrounded by brilliant orange leaves with a mossy log draped across its water stream, I thought this cascade was most photogenic.  The sky had clouded up by then, and the even light made for perfect conditions to capture its beauty.  As a matter of fact, the above image was one of my favorites from the day.

Middle North Falls was just a trickle

From Lower North Falls, Kim and I made a side trip to check out Double Falls.  At 178 feet it has the distinction of being the tallest waterfall in Silver Falls State Park (by only one foot over South Falls!)  However, its location at the end of a narrow canyon makes photography difficult, so we didn't linger long - and I took only one really crummy image that I'm not going to include here.

Colorful trees atop Middle N. Falls

Down the trail again, now heading for my favorite cascade in Silver Falls State Park - Middle North Falls.  This waterfall normally had a wide, fan-shaped stream that draped across a tall basalt cliff.  However, I was sad to see this cascade was also a victim of the dry autumn season, its lovely, wide fan reduced to one narrow stream.  Still pretty, but not as stunning as usual.

Lots of leaves on the ground

Middle North Falls was also a walk-behind cascade, so of course Kim and I took the side trail to get a glimpse of the view behind its narrow stream.  At 106 feet in height, this waterfall was also respectably tall.

Touches of yellow and orange

Although I would've loved to visit all ten of the waterfalls along the "Trail of Ten Falls," by the time we'd finished with Middle North Falls it was midafternoon and we still had a good two mile jaunt if we took the short loop back to the parking lot.  Kim and I had taken a lot of time walking the 3.5 miles we'd covered so far.  The scenery was so fabulous there had been numerous photo stops and they'd all added up.  So I decided to bypass the final three waterfalls and head back.  

Huge, mossy trees

The hike out of the canyon was as stunning as the rest of the trail had been.  More tall, mossy-branched, bright yellow maples dominated the forest.  After passing wispy Winter Falls, its flow barely a trickle, we climbed a short, but steep path out of the canyon.  Then Kim and I traveled on a trail along the canyon rim until we reached the lodge and South Falls viewing area once again, closing a nearly 6-mile loop.

Some tree branches looked like ghostly arms

That morning's bright sunlight had foiled my plans to get photos of South Falls surrounded by colorful trees from the upper viewing area.  But now late in the afternoon, clouds dominated the sky, making for even light.  I couldn't pass up this second chance to get some better images of South Falls.  Kim, who was tired from the day's trek decided to hang out at the lodge while I returned to the viewpoint.  So back I went - and now the light was perfect for both capturing the waterfall and nearby golden trees.  After I'd set up my tripod, a man walked into my shot and lingered below on the path for quite a long time.  Tired of waiting for him to move, I included the guy in my images.  And as it turned out I kind of liked it - he gives the viewer a sense of perspective.

South Falls from the viewing area

Kim and I spent an entire day, until nearly 5:00, hiking the trails of Silver Falls State Park.  Although we didn't get to all ten waterfalls, we did see seven of the ten, so that's not bad.  A worthwhile day spent savoring the beauty of nature in a truly spectacular area.  We both came away with lots of stunning images of the vibrant fall leaf colors and scenic waterfalls.  A truly memorable day!

(Oh and in my next few posts, I'll finally get back to the present time and show you what I've been up to lately.)