Return to Cape Perpetua
November 15-16, 2008
After two weeks of rain and clouds and two weeks of working on my NSF proposal, a ridge of relatively warm high pressure moved over the area on Friday. Time for hiking, sleeping under the stars, mushroom-hunting, and forgetting about the tests coming up on Wednesday and Friday this week. On Friday after class I rode my bike to the top of Bald Hill to watch the sunset - a rather tortuous climb that involved much huffing and puffing and several stints of walking beside the bike. Saturday, after buying a soft mattress cover and replenishing my foodstuffs at the co-op, me and my Subaru set sail for Waldport down curvy Highway 34, en route to the old growth trails and scenic overlooks of Cape Perpetua.
After driving the windy road to the top of the Cape (802 ft above sea level), I did some off-trail exploring/mushroom hunting, finding little but enjoying the old growth, then returned to the lookout in time for the sunset.
Looking south from Cape Perpetua
Looking down on US 101 curving around the headlands
The sun found a window of clear just before setting
One minute remaining
Afterglow!
And more afterglow!
In the falling dark, I wound my way up a one-lane Forest Service road to my trailhead, then set off in search of a campsite. Finding a level, log-free spot in the forest is a challenge, but eventually I found a little cradle of earth just long enough to sleep in. Not large enough for a tent, but I trusted the forecast of no rain and laid my footprint and sleeping pad out. For the next four hours I read about Oregon's geologic history in my new book, In Search of Ancient Oregon. When 10 o'clock rolled around, I turned off my headlamp and relaxed in the cool night (~45 degrees) to the sound of the breeze through the tall conifers and the muted sibilance of the surf four miles distant. The just-past-full moon rose overhead, and my body drank in the essence of the Earth, releasing the stress and mental friction of academic life.
In the morning, after packing my sleeping bag and returning it to my car, I set off on a six-mile loop hike. Not long after starting, I came to a fork with an unmarked trail heading uphill to the left. Being curious, I followed it and soon found myself in a land inhabited by elves - or so it seemed at first. Ramps led over fallen logs. Seesaws connected flat log-paths, and carefully banked plank curves marked the path. I expected to encounter a hermit, a woodworker, or a team of wood-elves, but instead I emerged into a clearcut at the top with amazing views - and I realized that I had actually been following a downhill mountain-bike course, carefully crafted out here in the middle of nowhere by some unnamed, skilled craftsfolk.
Looking north from the top (1894 ft)
Looking northeast. Marys Peak is visible as the distant mountain just to the right of center.
Start of bike course
My detour complete, I returned to my intended route, following the Cummins Creek trail down an abandoned logging road on the edge of the Cummins Creek Wilderness.
Flowers in November!
The ridge above Cummins Creek. This is not a clearcut but a high meadow on shallow soil over basalt.
Ed would call this day a "5+" or perhaps a "6" - 60 degrees and clear in November with a light breeze and the earthy scents of the temperate rainforest wafting up from the damp, steep-sided valleys. I'm not sure how unusual this is for November out here in Oregon, but it is certainly above average.
My loop involved about a quarter mile of off-trail travel to catch a returning trail. The quarter mile involved climbing down a 45+-degree slope to Gwynn Creek, then climbing up the other side - a fun but energy-consuming endeavor.
Going down.
Standing in Gwynn Creek.
I stopped to drink a little of the pure-tasting water. The valley walls are so steep that the winter sun never reaches the valley floor, and here the morning dew lasts all day, dripping from the ferns and lending a rainforest-esqe character to the scene.
Climbing up the other side, I started to find chanterelles (Cantharellus cibarius) - delicious mushrooms that are currently in season and remarkably abundant in appropriate habitats.
Chanterelles!
I picked about five pounds of chanterelles, and I could have picked many more but I wanted to keep moving. I also found many other interesting fungi, including these beautiful grisettes (below)
A grisette (Amanita cf. vaginata) - Ali identified it later from the photo.
A mature grisette - perfect and pristine (and edible, though few folks eat it because it has similar, deadly relatives).
A few miles later, I was back at the Subaru and coasting down the mountain to Yachats, where I stopped for a bowl of clam chowder and to explore the rocky coastline.
A rather tame group of black turnstones (dark) and surfbirds (gray) - sandpipers of rocky coastlines.
A blowhole in the basalt. I am standing a little too close...
...and this wave got me wet about 1/4 second after this photo.
Rocky surf - the waves were fairly tame with light winds today but still interesting for this flatlander.
Translation: If you see a REALLY BIG wave, RUN LIKE HELL!
One last view of the Pacific at Yachats.
After a stop at Rogue Brewery in Newport for a few bottles, I took the scenic road along the railroad back to Corvallis and descended into a cold fog in the valley. Corvallis had a high of 45 degrees today and never saw the sun. A good day to be on the coast!
Chanterelles! (Ebba picked these, but my collection looked much the same.)