The Cape Perpetua Scenic Area on Oregon’s coast is stunning.
Volunteer Leader: Mark Hougardy | Organization: Eugene-based Hiking Club | Date: August 2018 | Duration: 2 days | Participants: 8 | Type: car camping, hiking, and kayaking
Our group was fortunate as the weather was surprisingly mild and there was little wind. We spent much of the morning exploring tide pools and beachcombing during low tide. The Cape’s forest offered us the chance to stand at the base of the 200-foot tall and 500-year old Sitka Spruce. These amazing trees grow in a four-mile-wide zone along the coast from northern California to Kodiak Island in Alaska. Around lunchtime, we pitched our tents at a nearby campground and had a quick bite to eat. Our two tiny campsites proved challenging with our collection of tents. In the late afternoon, during high tide, we appreciated the coast’s craggy beauty. A favorite is Spouting Horn, where wave action forces water into a small sea cave and through a hole at the top creating a sizeable plume. Thor’s Well, a large sinkhole on the shoreline, water cascades into what appears to be an unearthly entrance to the underworld. In the evening, some of us climbed the 700-foot cape and enjoyed awe-inspiring views of the rocky shoreline below. Standing inside the historic Civilian Conservation Corps shelter, we witnessed a brief sunset. That day we saw a whale, gulls, cormorants, sea lions, a myriad of tide pool creatures, turkey vultures, and ravens.
We woke with the sun and drove to Brian Booth State Park where we participated in a kayaking trip along Beaver Creek. This interpretive tour is offered as a service by Oregon State Parks. Beaver Creek is a freshwater estuary and is prime habitat for Coho salmon, cutthroat trout, winter steelhead, and waterfowl. We finished our three-mile paddle about noon and had a great time. We had seen ducks, nutria (invasive), a family of river otters, kingfishers, a young bald eagle, swallow, cranes, blue herons, a green heron, Canada geese, merganser, and a red-tailed hawk. As we pulled our kayaks from the water there was a nearby splash, a river otter had been playfully observing at us. Across the creek, a bald eagle surveyed our group. That afternoon we drove south to Yachats and enjoyed a tasty lunch before heading home.
Trip Report: Volunteer Leader: Mark Hougardy | Organization: Eugene-based Hiking Club | Dates: September 10, 2017, | Participants: 7 | Type: Day hike and wayfinding
In Oregon’s forested Cascade Range an old tree stands guard over a forgotten story. The story is about an explorer in the late 1800s named Judge John Breckenridge Waldo, and his intrepid spirit was that of John Muir and Henry David Thoreau. Judge Waldo is the unsung grandfather of Oregon’s protected lands. It is because of his perseverance that six national forests, Crater Lake National Park, and over a dozen wilderness areas exist today. The tree knew that few remembered Waldo’s name or even celebrate his achievements. Yet, the tree endures and will share a secret to those who seek Waldo’s legacy.
The tall perpendicular woods and glassy mountain lake made seeing this old tree even more intoxicating. A year earlier while researching Waldo I spied a grainy black and white photo. The picture was snapped in 1890; it revealed a couple of trees and a canoe by a lake with the handwritten text, “Camp Edith, Waldo Lake.” An interesting yet unremarkable image, except that Camp Edith wasn’t referenced on any map. After a year of research, my fellow explorers and I stood before those words carved into the tree’s hardwood. it was Waldo’s “lost” campsite.
Our morning started with sunlight enriching the blue and turquoise waters of Waldo Lake. The radiant vista poured 5-miles into the distance and an additional 2 miles at breadth. As the sun rose further into the sky it revealed depths of 60 feet or more in the crystalline-like liquid.
From 1877 to 1907 Waldo extensively explored and chronicled the “untrammeled nature” of Oregon’s Cascades. He believed that modern life had “narrowing tendencies” on a person and that wilderness allowed difficulties to “be perceived and corrected, and the spirit enlarged and strengthened.” Waldo was a reflective man who did not seek publicity. Rather, he quietly and diligently advanced his vision: a 300-mile long protected swath along Oregon’s mountainous crest from the Columbia Gorge to the California border. Upon returning from his expeditions he spent countless hours increasing public awareness through letter writing and using his resources as a State Legislator and Chief Justice of Oregon’s Supreme Court to advocate for preservation.
After Waldo’s death in 1907, his writings went missing only to be rediscovered in the 1980s. The papers now reside in the archives at the University of Oregon. This is where I first saw the old photo of Camp Edith. When I inquired with seasoned hikers, campers, and old-timers, they had not heard of the camp. Finally, I met an aged flower child that loved to backpack. Surprisingly, he knew about Camp Edith’s location but only revealed, “When you find the tree, you’ll be there.”
The following winter I jumped into reading a rare 500-page copy of Waldo’s transcribed diary. During his treks, he traveled for months at a time to nourish his insatiable wanderlust and love of the Cascades. But like many travelers, he was often homesick. To lessen the loneliness he christened a favorite camping site in honor of his daughter, Edith. A colleague blazed the camp’s name into a tree trunk.
The snow had melted in the mountains and some ground reconnaissance was needed. I enlisted several members from a local hiking group to join me at Waldo Lake. We walked into the forest to find “the tree” provisioned with a photo from 1890, a few telling diary entries, and the mystifying advice of an old hippie.
Progress was slow as we bushwhacked through the woodlands, crossed marshy fields, and scrambled over downed logs. We were close to calling it a day when a member of our team let out a joyous shout. Thirteen decades of bark growth had covered the blaze’s perimeter, but the inscription was legible: “Camp Edith, Waldo Lake.”
We had unearthed a sumptuous moment of discovery.
An excerpt from one of Waldo’s 1890 letters was appropriate to read-
“The lake stretches away up to the North; crags and peaks tower above us. It is a splendid scene â€“ this source of rivers and cities, hid away, like pure trains of thought from vulgar observation â€“ in the deep bosom of the wilderness buried. Camp Edith sends you greeting, “greeting to Edith from ‘Papa’s Lake.'”
We departed Camp Edith carrying Waldo’s story with us, ” our spirits nourished and renewed.
The first total solar eclipse to cross the U.S. from coast to coast in almost a century occurred today (August 21, 2017). It was a must-see event. In my home town of Eugene, Oregon, the obscuration (amount of the sun’s disk that’s obscured by the moon) was 99.3%. We were geographically about 40 miles south of the shadow’s extent for complete darkness, but our location did not disappoint. Below are four photos, taken with my camera, showing the progression of the moon crossing in front of the sun’s disk.
A total eclipse is a phenomenal natural spectacle. To us humans both objects appear to be the same size in the sky, this is because our star (the Sun) is 400 times wider than the moon and it is 400 times farther away from Earth than the moon. Even in the cosmos, such a splendid matchup of size and distance for intelligent life to observe is likely a rare occurrence.
This composite photo shows the trees and valley thirty minutes prior to (left) and at the height the eclipse (right). During this time the sky became very dark and there were no bird sounds. The temperature also dropped 15 to 20 degrees Fahrenheit!
From my vantage, I could see about 20 miles south and about 40 miles north. The northern view was dark, the southern direction was sunny; in between this gulf of sixty miles was a gradient between the darkness and light. My wow moment was realizing that such an immense shadow, and on such a grand scale was made by the moon which is indeed very, very big.