Last Hike (Before the World Fell Apart)

Things started to go south the third week of March. That Monday I arrived at work only to learn at noon that due to the cornavirus, my building was closing to all non-essential personnel. At 5 pm everyone would be kicked out until further notice.  The rest of the afternoon was spent in a mad scramble to locate a laptop, load everything necessary to do my job onto its hard drive, and try to gather things from my desk that might be needed during the shutdown.

Between Tuesday and Thursday I endured the extremely steep learning curve of trying to do my job remotely.  By Friday (thankfully my day off), between work and COVID-19 worries, I was in dire need of some wilderness therapy.

Grand Gorge views

But....should I go hiking?  Although a "stay at home" order hadn't been issued yet, the news media hinted an announcement was forthcoming.  However, I really needed some outdoor exercise.  If I went early on a Friday morning trails couldn't be that busy, could they?  After much thought I decided I'd be okay to hike as long as I picked a less-traveled trail and didn't stop in any local towns for food or bathroom breaks.

Yellow bells

Catherine Creek, on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge, is always a good early spring wildflower destination.  It's rolling green hills, normally dotted with color this time of year, give way to spectacular Columbia River views.  Although the main trail is well-traveled, a bit of internet research netted me a map of the entire trail system, detailing several lesser-known paths.  After choosing a less popular route I set out early the next morning, confident I could avoid the masses.

Dewdrop-covered yellow bells

Arriving at the trailhead by 8 am, I was surprised to see a half dozen vehicles already at the parking area and two groups of people lingering by the trailhead.  Still unfamiliar with the whole "social distancing" concept, I stayed in my car until both parties had left.  Then I quickly grabbed my backpack and took off on the "new to me" path that I'd mapped the night before.  My chosen route led westward from the parking area in the opposite direction of the main trail.

Mt Hood, Columbia River and Rowland Lake

It was a gorgeous spring morning.  The sky was a brilliant blue, with temperatures starting to warm away the morning chill.  I climbed through an open, grassy plain, showcasing views of Mt Hood and the Columbia River as I gained elevation.

Climbing along the rocky cliff edge

And then my phone buzzed.  Normally when I'm hiking I ignore any phone calls.  But the number was from work, so I went ahead and answered.  An automated message stopped me in my tracks.  It said my workplace building had been shut down to all personnel for cleaning and no one was to enter under any circumstances.  Although the message was disturbingly vague, I knew it could mean only one thing - someone who worked in my building was sick with COVID-19.

Mt Hood and desert parsley

And, just like that, this ominous message ruined my entire day.  Having been given no details, I immediately assumed the worst.  Was I now infected with the virus too?  Extremely upset, I called my husband and instructed him to disinfect everything in our house I may have touched.  Should I cancel my hike and head home?  My hubby assured me he'd clean all the household common areas and encouraged me to continue my outing.  In light of this bad news, stress release via exercise was needed now more than ever.

Shooting stars

Well, I'd seen zero people on this trail so far.  I decided to continue my hike as planned, and try to finish by midday before things got busy.  So with a heavy heart, I carried on uphill past an oak grove.

A few grass widows still left

I discovered a patch of lovely yellow bells blooming near the trees.  Morning dew still clung to their petals, making for some fine photo ops.  Seeing those cheery blossoms lifted my mood a little.

Raven on an old dead tree

The path began switchbacking steeply up the side of a rocky cliff.  More fantastic views unfolded as I climbed higher.  State Highway 14 and Rowland Lake appeared far below.  The Columbia River glistened a brilliant blue in the early morning sun.  And, of course, Mt Hood was also a constant companion on the southwestern horizon.  A patch of magenta shooting star flowers decorated a nearby hillside.  I even spotted a few late-blooming grass widows.

He even posed for me!

At the top of the first incline an old, dead tree tilted towards the cliff's edge.  Perched on top of this tree was a large raven.  I edged closer to the bird, snapping photos as I went.  The raven didn't seem to mind my presence, and even appeared to be posing for the camera.  I was able to get extremely close and was rewarded with some great images.

View to the top

Then my path edged along the clifftops, climbing ever higher.  I welcomed the exertion - it was a great stress reliever.

Another lovely grass widow

I was all alone until the first trail junction.  About that time, I noticed a large group of people gaining on me.  Although I'm not the slowest hiker, my frequent photo stops had allowed this party to catch up.  They were a group of older people (well, older than me!) so I wanted to be sure and stay far away.

Mt Hood close-up (one can never have too many photos of Hood!)

When the group finally overtook me, I quickly stepped as far off trail as possible.  Not knowing if I was contagious or not, I didn't want to chance infecting anyone.  I exchanged pleasantries and then lingered in position until the party had traveled a far enough distance away before resuming my hike.

Following an through the meadow

The final climb to the next trail junction was through a large green meadow.  Huge electrical transmission towers threaded high voltage wires along the cliff edge.

Fabulous Mt Hood views on top

Arriving at the junction, I marveled at the fantastic views of Mt Hood from this high perch.  An old road contoured through the meadow leading in both directions.  One man, a member of the older group I was trying to avoid, hiked past me to capture a photograph of Mt Hood beyond the powerlines.  Deciding to capture the same image, I followed the man.  It was here I met another couple coming from the other direction, who asked me if I knew where the trail led.  Maintaining what I thought was a safe distance, I held out my map for them to see.  The woman took a quick photo with her phone, while the man lingered, trying to read my map.  The woman chided her companion for dawdling saying "just take a photo, we don't want to endanger her!"  I thought to myself "hopefully I'm not endangering them."

Rocky road back down

After taking my mountain photo, and freeing myself of the map-reading couple, I headed back in the opposite direction, following the road towards Catherine Creek.  I passed by the older group, now safely sitting off trail enjoying a snack.  The trail turned into a rocky abandoned road that dove steeply downhill through a thick forest.  These shady woods were a welcome respite from the hot sunshine.

Passing by the old corral

The bottom of the road intersected with the main Catherine Creek Trail.  Having hiked a mere 3 miles thus far, I wasn't ready to end my hike just yet.  Should I continue up the main trail?  I was here, why not?

Old corral

I caught up to a family with three small children crossing Catherine Creek.  Keeping a safe distance, I passed the family and continued uphill to the abandoned corral.

Tumble-down fence

This abandoned corral is a local landmark.  It's also a great place for photo ops.  I snapped a few images, and then sat down on a nearby log to have a quick snack.

Looking through oak groves

Oh, the world had woken up!  While sitting, five different groups of people walked by, climbing up the main trail.  Maybe adding this route wasn't such a good idea.....

Classic Gorge view to the east

I stashed my goodies, and continued up the trail.  The family with small kids was ahead, spread out across the entire width of the trail.  No social distancing was happening here!  I walked as fast as I could and when I finally caught up, veered off trail as far as possible and quickly passed the family by.

Wild turkeys

The final two miles of my hike wound around the open meadows above the corral and rock arch.  I encountered several groups of hikers, most politely stepping off the trail to give room, but not all.  About halfway back, I came across a flock of wild turkeys.  Although I tried to get close enough for photos, the turkeys were having none of it, and quickly scooted off into a nearby ravine.  Those turkeys were pros at social distancing!

One more beautiful grass widow

The final half mile I walked by a lovely wildflower field, with more yellow bells, a few straggler grass widows, and some beautiful purple camas blooms.

Yellow bells with a bit of orange highlights

I stopped and sent a text message to one of my coworkers asking if she knew anymore about the abrupt closure of our building.  She informed me that, as I suspected, someone in our building had "exhibited symptoms of coronavirus" but thankfully that person didn't work on our floor.  And since we'd been out of the building since Monday our chances of exposure were fairly slim.  Hearing this information was a great relief.

Blooming camas

Heading down the final half mile to my car, I encountered a conga-line of people all heading up the main trail.  There were several large groups, and no one was doing a good job of leaving space between other hikers.  It was time to get out of here.

The trail now crossed a brand new bridge

Although happy to have taken the hike, I realized anyplace I tried to go that weekend I'd likely encounter even larger crowds.  Narrow hiking trails were not conducive to social distancing.  No more hiking for me - I decided to stay put at home for the rest of the weekend.

Missing my favorite trails

As I drove away, I knew in the back of my mind this was likely the last hike I'd be able to take for the foreseeable future.  The writing was on the wall.  COVID-19 had arrived, and a shutdown of my state was imminent.

And the following Monday, that's exactly what happened.  All state parks were closed, as were the hiking trails in the Columbia River Gorge.  This hike happened almost one month ago, and I can't tell you how much I'm missing my favorite spring wildflower trails.  I'm still holding out hope that outdoor activities will be able to resume this summer.  Stay home everyone, so we can defeat this pandemic and get back to enjoying the great outdoors!