Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Springtime at Mt. St. Helens

Ugh, June has been a month!  Due to a 2-week trip back home, and a very persistent case of plantar fasciitis (yes, I still have it) my hikes this month has been severely curtailed (a grand total of one, if you've been following my "2022 hiking challenge" page).  After trying to do too much walking for the past 2 weeks I finally came to the realization my foot's not gonna get better unless I let it rest.  That means no hiking - period.  So this past weekend has been spent sitting home feeling glum because I'm missing out on some great weather (it's finally stopped raining) and the wildflowers are starting to bloom.

But my forced inactivity also means a chance to get somewhat caught up on this blog.  So to start things off, here's a recap from a mid-May trip to Mt. St. Helens.


Early morning light on MSH

I always love to visit Mt. St. Helens in late spring when the snow is still on the mountain and the trees are beginning to leaf out.  The crush of summer visitors has yet to arrive so there's a better chance of seeing wildlife.  I'd heard reports that other hikers had spotted mountain goats near the Johnston Ridge Observatory.  The promise of mountain goat sightings is what inspired me to take the long drive up to Washington state and see my favorite erupted volcano - high gas prices be damned!


Coldwater Lake

Because one has a better chance of spotting wild animals in the early morning, I drug myself out of bed in the wee hours in order to make the 2-hour drive in time for sunrise.  I didn't quite get going early enough, and caught daybreak somewhere along I-5.  But I did arrive at nearby Coldwater Lake in time to take advantage of some great morning light.  It shone on the newly-leafed green trees, making them appear golden instead of green.  (My photos look like they were taken in October instead of May!)


Coldwater Lake and Minnie Peak

On the way up to Johnston Ridge, I always make a stop at Coldwater Lake.  Not only does it have lovely views of the lake and surrounding mountains and ridges, it also has a nice bathroom with real flushing toilets that's open 24-7.  Very important after driving for two hours!


Volcano view from Johnston Ridge

Today the fantastic morning light did not disappoint, and I spent several extra minutes capturing the beautiful scenery around the lake.  But I didn't want to miss out on any potential wildlife sightings, so after a good half hour I pulled myself back into the car for the final 10-mile drive up to Johnston Ridge.


Lots of snow still lingering

The road to Johnston Ridge Observatory is closed in winter months and usually opens around Mother's Day weekend.  This year, for some reason the road opened in late April.  The night had been cold, and as I pulled into a parking spot in the nearly-deserted lot my car slid on a patch of ice.  I wasn't going very fast so no problem, but as I looked around I noticed that nearly all the ground adjacent to the parking lot was covered in snow.  The Observatory, shuttered since 2020, wasn't open.  I walked past the silent building for a front-row view of MSH, pleased to have the entire viewing platform to myself at this early hour.


Cliffs below Johnston Ridge Observatory

There's a nice trail that starts at the Observatory, climbs over a small ridge, and drops visitors at the beginning of the Boundary Trail.  You can also access the Boundary trail via a paved path at the far end of the parking area.  Since I was already at the Observatory, and didn't want to retrace my steps across the parking lot, I decided to take this connector.  At first, it was fine.  Then after cresting a high point the path wound across the northern flank of the ridge.  This side of the hill was covered in a thick coat of snow.  I immediately lost the trail and floundered through the slushy, slippery snowfield.  The side slope got steeper, and I realized if I slipped, it would be a perilous downhill slide.  Not having any traction devices (I'd foolishly left my microspikes at home) I decided it would be much safer to backtrack and take the trail from the parking lot.


Drainages make cool patterns in the soil

The parking lot trail was also snow-covered but at least it was relatively flat, so I floundered and post-holed the half mile to the Boundary Trail's official beginning.  Thankfully the Boundary Trail was snow-free here, and I set off down this familiar path, scanning the cliffs below for mountain goats.


Parts of the Boundary Trail were very much snow covered

Mt. St. Helens looked fabulous with her winter coat and I took many photos of her open crater.  The land below the mountain was green with new growth.  I loved the sinuous drainage gullies radiating from MSH's flanks, making artsy paths across the lowlands.


Mama goat and baby

Then I spotted a few white dots on the cliffs far below.  They appeared to be moving.  Were they goats?  Hastily attaching my large zoom lens, I zeroed in on the objects.  Yes - yes, they were.  Even better, it was a mother goat with a little one.  I spotted several other goats scattered about.  But they were all so far away it was hard to get decent images.  While thrilled to see mountain goats, I was disappointed they weren't a little bit closer.


Curious chipper

Although far, far away, at least I'd spotted some goats.  This goal realized I continued down the Boundary Trail.  I didn't make it much farther before encountering a totally snow-covered trail.  Although I could've kept going, the fact that I didn't bring any traction devices made me decide to turn around.  Better safe than sorry!  (Besides, my plantar fasciitis-riddled foot wasn't digging snow travel) 


Tiny plants in Hummocks pond

I hadn't driven all this way to not hike, so I pointed my car downhill to the Hummocks Trailhead.  At an elevation 1700 feet lower than Johnston Ridge, there was no snow to be found.  A short 3-mile path winds through piles of rocky debris left over from the 1980 eruption.  Mother Nature is slowly healing this area, as evidenced by large groves of alder and multiple shallow ponds full of birds and frogs.


MSH view from Hummocks Trail

The first alder-lined pond was full of tweeting birds so I quick switched to my zoom lens.  Of course, all the birds decided to hide right after the lens change.  I continued on, past more small ponds, gleaming blue in the morning sun.


Toutle River

In a half mile I came to a clearing with stupendous views of MSH.  Time to switch back to my landscape lens, which I did, and then proceeded to capture many images of this stunning scene.


One of the many small ponds along the Hummocks Trail

I continued on through the Hummocks, the landscape alternating from lush alder forests to desolate, rocky moonscapes.  Much of the eruption debris blown from the mountain landed here in large piles.  The trail wound over and around many of these landforms.


Commanding view to the west

One viewpoint offered a grand view of the Toutle River's gravelly channel.  When the eruption instantly melted the mountain's glaciers, this river was the recipient of tremendous amounts of mud and debris.  The huge resulting landslide and mudflow altered its course, leaving tons of rocks and detritus behind.


Bright green undergrowth

After the river viewpoint, my trail dived into the alder woods once again, passing many tiny pools and rivulets, all surrounded by the greenest vegetation I'd seen.


Elk sighting!  Too bad I had my landscape lens on at the time.

I met a couple going the opposite direction that warned me of a mother goose who was being very protective of her nest, hissing at everyone who walked by.  I passed the protective goose who voiced her displeasure and continued towards a nearby opening in the trees.  Approaching the opening, I was surprised to see an elk grazing directly ahead of me.


Tree swallow

An elk sighting!  This was totally unexpected as it was nearing late morning and these beasts were usually bedded down by now.  Naturally, I had the wrong lens on my camera.  Could I change lenses without drawing the elk's attention?  As I was reaching for my lens cap, which was in my pants pocket, a granola bar wrapper that just happened to be in the same pocket made a crinkling sound.  That got the elk's attention and she lifted her head and stared my direction.  Uh-oh!  There was no way I could move now.  The elk and I had a stare-down for several long minutes before I couldn't stand still any longer.  Once I moved, the elk and an uphill companion that I hadn't realized was there, quickly galloped away.


Yellow-rumped warbler

Hoping all was not lost, I switched to my zoom lens and followed the trail to where the elk had been grazing.  But by now the animals were long gone.  Oh well, since I'd gone to the trouble of putting the long lens on my camera, maybe I could get a bird or two.


Pretty butterfly hiding behind some leaves

So I did - first capturing a cute yellow-rumped warbler that kept hopping between trees, and then a beautiful blue tree swallow who landed on a nearby treetop and stayed put for several minutes.  And finally a delicate butterfly decided to visit some nearby flower buds and I focused through a bunch of leafy vegetation to get my shot.


Coldwater Ridge

By the time I finished the 3-mile Hummocks Trail my foot was hurting.  Although I would've loved to hike a bit of the trail around nearby Coldwater Lake, I knew that was pushing things.  So I drove over to the picnic area by Coldwater Lake, ate my sandwich, and ventured down to the lakeshore for a few final pics.  Although the midday light wasn't near as stunning as first thing in the morning, I still got some great views of the lake and nearby snow-capped Minnie Peak.


Walkway at Coldwater Lake

Although I didn't get the close up wildlife views I was hoping for, I was lucky enough to spot mountain goats, several birds, experience lovely morning light and a surprise elk duo.  Mt. St. Helens was lovely as always and I'm glad I had the chance to see her before most of the snow melts away.  Now I need to return for wildflower season - very soon!


Wednesday, June 29, 2022

Triple Falls

One of my favorite Columbia River Gorge hikes is the Triple Falls Trail.  I've always felt this trail gave hikers the best "bang for a buck" in regards to the number of waterfalls vs the short distance traveled.  Sadly this entire area was badly burned in the 2017 Eagle Creek wildfire, and the trail to Triple Falls remained closed for many years after.  But happily, the Forest Service finally reopened this trail in the spring of 2022.  Hearing Triple Falls was again open for visitors, I convinced my friends Debbie and Barry to join me for a look-see.


Horsetail Falls

So one fine day in early May had my friends and I driving to the trailhead parking area, at the base of lovely Horsetail Falls.  At 176 feet this stunning cascade shot out of a basalt cliff and spilled over its mossy face into a large splash pool.  After spending an appropriate amount of time taking photos and admiring the gushing waterfall, we headed towards the trailhead, a stone throw's east of Horsetail Falls. 


Tons 'o bleeding heart flowers

But before we could start up the trail my friends and I were stopped cold by a colorful display of wildflowers.  Pink bleeding hearts bloomed profusely near the trailhead sign, accompanied by a huge number of fringecup fronds.


Fringecup

Cameras and cell phones came out and a frenzied photography session ensued!


The trailhead looks so barren and sad after the fire

Floral photos safely tucked into memory cards, it was time to tackle this trail!  From the trailhead sign, the tread wound uphill through a barren area, completely logged of fire-scorched trees.  Remembering how lush and green things used to be pre-fire, it was a sad sight.  


Fairy bells

But burn zones create rich soil for re-establishment of plants, and I was cheered to see the trail ahead lined with wildflowers of all varieties.  


Ponytail Falls

After a half mile of climbing we came upon our first waterfall, charming 80-foot tall Ponytail Falls.


Can you spot Debbie to the left of the falls?

This waterfall was fun to visit because the trail ran right behind it. (Can you spot Debbie to the left of the falls?)


I love waterfalls that you can walk behind

Is there anything more enjoyable than walking behind a waterfall?  Some of my favorite cascades are the ones that you can view from a different perspective.


Debbie and Barry on the trail

After much more photography and general gawking, we took the uphill trail away from Ponytail Falls.  It traversed below some tall cliffs and through talus slopes.  Although also heavily burned in the fire, bushes and wildflowers had grown back in great numbers.


Serviceberry blooms

The amount of green definitely outnumbered the bleak, burned trees.  And that was a good thing.


Fantastic gorge viewpoint

A quarter-mile past Ponytail Falls, my friends and I took a short side path leading hikers to a breathtaking clifftop Gorge panorama.  The Columbia River stretched out for miles in both directions.


Switchbacking down to Oneonta Falls

Beyond the viewpoint, it was back into what was left of the forest, switchbacking down to Oneonta Gorge and waterfall.


Narrow Oneonta Gorge

Oneonta Gorge is deep and narrow between this trail and the Scenic Highway and boasts spectacular scenery.  Before the 2017 fire, it was wildly popular to wade up Oneonta creek from the highway.  Thanks to social media, Oneonta Gorge began to draw hundreds of daily visitors during the summer, and as a result was getting trashed by the masses.  Then the 2017 wildfire severely damaged this area, forcing its closure.  Oneonta Gorge has not yet reopened, and I suspect the Forest Service may keep it shuttered for many more years to come.


Oneonta Falls

A bridge crossed Oneonta Creek and gave nice views of 60-foot high Oneonta Falls.


The trail above Oneonta Falls was mighty bleak

Then it was time to climb once again!  From Oneonta Falls my friends I crawled up the opposite side of its canyon.  The day was beginning to warm up and I started to sweat from the exertion.  


A little color in the burn zone

At a junction with the Oneonta Trail, my friends and I turned northward, towards Triple Falls.  The trail followed the opposite side of Oneonta Gorge and continued to ascend, sometimes steeply.  In many places we were navigating a path perched on the side of steep cliffs.  The creek was a long ways down!  I'd heard that due to numerous landslides, this portion of the trail was especially difficult to reconstruct after the fire.


Sad to see the destruction

The fire's destruction was especially intense here.  Acres of blackened tree trunks covered the slopes above Oneonta Creek.  Vegetation seemed to just recently be reestablishing itself, but I did notice several colorful spots of wildflowers.


Finally - Triple Falls!

It was nearly a mile from the Oneonta trail junction to Triple Falls, but walking uphill through the burn zone if felt much longer.  Having not hiked in this area since 2015, I was trying to remember where exactly the falls were located.  Were they behind this bend?  Nope.  This one?  Nada.


Triple Falls 2022

But finally we rounded a corner, and there was Triple Falls in all it's churning water glory!  Hooray!  The falls can be viewed from an overlook perched precariously on a small cliff jutting over the creek.  There's no guardrail, so visitors must watch their step.  But it gives one a front-row view of this stunning, three-pronged cascade.  Debbie, Barry and I decided it made a great lunch spot.


Triple Falls 2015, before the fire

Although Triple Falls was still as impressive as ever, I was a little sad to see the fire damage above and around it.  The area used to be so lush and green and now it looked brown and bare.  Back home, I dove into my photo archives to find some pre-fire images of the area.  I posted one above so you can see the difference.


Debbie tries out the new footbridge

After eating lunch, Debbie and I headed upstream to check out the new bridge spanning the creek above Triple Falls.


Beautiful creek above the bridge

The churning rapids in the creek here were especially photogenic.


The Triple Falls viewing area, perched high above the creek



Then it was time to retrace our steps back down the trail.  I snapped this photo as we passed by the Triple Falls viewing area.  It really shows just how precarious this viewpoint is.


Eagle-eye Debbie spotted these chocolate lilies

As my friends and I descended the trail, I lagged behind snapping photos.  I came upon Debbie and Barry stopped ahead and Debbie pointed out a nice patch of chocolate lilies that we'd missed on our trip up.  


Spot of color on nearby clifftop

Upon reaching the Oneonta-Horsetail Falls trail junction, my friends and I pondered whether to retrace our steps and return the way we came or take the Oneonta trail directly to the scenic highway.  Since it had been many years since we'd traversed this portion of the Oneonta trail, the decision was made to return that way. 


Almost to the Scenic Highway!

The burn zone wasn't quite as bad along this trail and we quickly descended underneath the tall basalt cliffs to the scenic highway.


Oneonta Gorge tunnel has been rebuilt

A wide path took us to the beginning of Oneonta Gorge, which was tightly fenced off to prevent people from entering.  An old highway tunnel, part of the original scenic highway, had been restored for pedestrians and bike use.  Then the 2017 fire burned out the timber lining in the tunnel and it had to be closed.  But today we were happy to find the tunnel had been rebuilt and was again open for foot traffic.


Light at the end of the tunnel

Past the tunnel our footpath ended, forcing my friends and I to walk along the scenic highway for a short quarter-mile back to Horsetail Falls and our waiting vehicle.


Horsetail Falls, with lovely flowers

A nice outing, it came in just over 5 miles, which was perfect for my still-not-healed-from-plantar-fasciitis foot.  Four lovely cascades, wildflowers, and bit of exercise on this cloudy (but thankfully not rainy!) spring day in the Gorge.