7/14/20
- Start point– Stealth spot near Lomolo Falls
- End point – Walk-in campsite near Soda Springs trailhead
- Distance hiked ~ 25.2 miles
SEGMENTS:
- Dread & Terror Segment (Final 11.5 miles from Lemolo Falls)
- Hot Springs Trail #1444 (a bonus side trail at only 0.6 miles round-trip)
- Hot Springs Segment (3.5 miles)
- Deer Leap Segment (9.6 miles)
I couldn’t fall asleep quickly last night, thanks to the darn bee stings resting on my right calf and tailbone. Both areas felt like they were on fire – and I had to harness all my self-restraint to stop my fingers from repeatedly scratching. After lying there in the dark for an hour, I broke out my first aid kit. I knew I didn’t have any Benadryl with me, but at least I could take some ibuprofen. Hopefully that would take the edge off the pain and give me some relief. Thankfully, the ibuprofen kicked in, and a half hour later I was able to finally able to slowly fall asleep.
It was a pretty cold night beside the North Umpqua River – perhaps from the steep hillsides that made it feel like I was in a cool canyon. Or maybe it was the proximity of my campsite to the river (a mere 20 feet away). But either way, there was a bit of a chill in the air in the morning, and I wanted to stay wrapped up in my 30°F down quilt when the sun eventually rose.
Unfortunately, I found myself itching again in the morning. I was unwittingly using my sock to rub my right calf before I suddenly remembered why I wasn’t supposed to. As I pulled the right leg of my wool leggings up to expose my calf, I could see a red welt of the bee venom spreading out the size of a grapefruit. Damn it! Why had I done that?
I figured the best way to put the constant itchiness out of my mind was to just get up and pack up camp. If I focused on a series of deliberate tasks, I’d be less likely to target the irritating reminder of last night’s debacle. And so, I went to (quickly) retrieve by Ursack from the spot where I’d been stung last night, ate breakfast, packed up, and was back on the trail just before 7 am.
TAKE THAT!
My second day on this trail started out with a challenge. I had to climb over a giant downed tree with a step cut right through it. And just beyond it, I had to make my way over section of washed out trail. I got to the other side safely and figured that obstacle would be the most difficult thing I’d have to cross today on the super well-maintained NUT.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. The Dread and Terror (D&T) Segment ahead of me would live up to its ominous-sounding name, for sure.
The name “dread and terror” was actually coined back in 1908 by two rangers on horseback while riding a 4-mile ridge south of river. The steep slope of the hillside coupled with impenetrable thickets made them dread the possibility of having to fight a wildfire on that stretch of the forest. It had nothing to do with the conditions of the trail back then. But, I’d soon learn that dread (and a little terror) is what this segment is really all about.
I didn’t have to hike the entire segment this morning, because I’d gotten a little bit of a head start last night while looking for a good campsite. I’d made it probably 1.5 miles into the segment and decided to lock in the cleared campsite alongside the river near Lemolo Falls.
I’d briefly considered hiking beyond Lemolo Falls last night and down to the bridge crossing the river. But I’d foregone that option because I had no clue how much further the bridge might be beyond the falls. The BLM brochure really only gives broad brush strokes about the trail and some of its highlights. There are no detailed maps. And the only mileages you have are the length of each segment. Beyond that, you have to just figure it out on the ground.
I strongly suspected that the area around upcoming bridge would have been a good place to spend the night, and it turns out I was right. About a mile later beyond the place where I’d made camp last night (and over lots of sketchy terrain and blowdowns blocking my path), the trail descended toward the river.
A flat area with room for at least 5-6 tents was spread out on the near side of the bridge, and there were even some logs arranged around a rock fire pit. If I were recommending a camp spot to someone else doing this trail, this would definitely be one to remember. It was a gem!
Just beyond the campsite, I could see the long brown metal bridge spanning the river. Yet there was something wrong with the bridge. One of the handrails seemed to have a giant dent in it. Plus a suspicious log was laying in the water right below it. I guess the trail wasn’t the only victim of the giant trees. This bridge looked like it had taking a major wallop.
As I crossed the bridge, I could see the damage was actually far more extensive than I’d originally suspected. Sure, the bridge was still intact, but that tree really must have hit it with some tremendous force.
The strong metal handrail and side railing was really bent. The decking of the bridge was warped and twisted. This bridge took a major beating when the tree fell on it.
And then I noticed a message on the railing in white chalk, clearly written by some one with a dark, vengeful sense of humor. It read, “Take that!”
Once I was on the other side of the river, the trail followed a hilly section of trail near some pretty steep drop-offs. I was certainly glad the trail was dry through this stretch. One wrong step, and you’d be sliding down through dirt, thorny brush and brambles for a long, long way before you stopped. I suspect this was the beginning of the section of forest those rangers had dubbed “dread and terror” more than a century ago.
The bulk of my morning was spent climbing over or under trees that had fallen across the trail. It seemed like I was stopping nearly every 50 feet to get around another one. Then, I could suddenly hear a deep humming noise in the distance. It had a mechanical whir about it, but I couldn’t tell what I was hearing. As I got closer, I realized it was the Lemolo Power Plant #1 on the opposite side of the river. It was way up on the top of the hillside, and the river was now several hundred feet below us. And just beyond the power plant, I could see a the flume taking the water down the hillside. Well that was pretty cool.
OBSTACLE COURSE
The next five miles of trail beyond that can only be described in two words: obstacle course. The deadfall on the trail was becoming so frequent that I was starting to wonder whether the Forest Service was intentionally leaving these downed trees on the trail just to ensure the D&T Segment lived up to its name and reputation. What fun would it be if I was able to walk down a nicely groomed trail?
Logically, I know that’s a silly premise. The Forest Service wouldn’t actually do that, right? This stretch of trail is just one of the longer segments and it’s much more difficult to access. The more likely explanation is that it was simply harder to do regular trail maintenance way out here.
Plus, it’s 2020. In the middle of a global pandemic. So, it’s highly unlikely the same number of trail crews would even be out here this season to take care of these hurdles. It’s not really a giant conspiracy by the USFS to make this part of the trail harder.
But, don’t try talking sense to me as I’m straddling the 60th fallen tree that morning. Or crawling on my hands and knees under yet another giant trunk blocking the trail. Logic was useless in my moments of sheer exasperation. I preferred my version of the truth where the trees were left here intentionally to make the trail dreadful, dammit!
And then I hit the grand daddy of all stumbling blocks on the trail and it nearly made me throw my hands up and quit. Two giant trees had fallen and left their monster-sized root balls blocking the entire trail.
The right side of the trail was a steep drop off, so couldn’t go that way. Nor was there any room to head the left, which was a vertically rock wall completely covered in moss. There was zero daylight under this bad boy too. So I wasn’t going get under it either. There was only one other option left – up and over it.
But getting over it was an equally problematic puzzle. I couldn’t climb it because the roots were covered in mud and too slick to get any purchase with my shoes. The only feasible option was to weave my body in between two of the slick pole-like roots and hoist myself up to the top of the root ball between a gap that was barely 20 inches wide.
To attempt this, I had to toss my pack up to the top of the 6 foot hight root ball above me, and then attempt an Olympic gymnast routine to pull myself up after it. Talk about a challenge!
I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I got up this morning. But, this was turning into a real beast of a segment of trail. I could tell I was barely averaging 2 mph with all the stopping and starting, and it was beginning to get to me. I’d hoped to hike another 20-mile day today, but that goal was looking more and more unlikely as I continue down the trail.
DOG TURDS
In addition to all the downed trees I was having to navigate this morning, I had another obstacle on the trail slowing me down – giant green slugs. Now, I know you have to be thinking, “how would slugs slow you down?” Well, let me explain.
These weren’t ordinary slugs you’d see on your driveway after a heavy rain. These were super slugs.
When I saw the first one, I though it was giant green dog turd on the trail. It was the same size and shape of a hot dog. And it had that glossy sheen of a freshly made deposit on the ground. You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all been on a trail where someone didn’t bring a plastic bag out pick up after their dog.
But, then that gross thing moved!
It wasn’t a dog turd, it was a really ugly giant slug. I put my shoe up next to one to take a picture because I didn’t think I’d see another. Wrong. They were dotting the trail over the next few miles of my trek. Any time I thought I just might have a clear bit of trail without fallen trees to navigate, I found myself having to avoid accidentally skewering one of these green turns with my trekking poles. I was never going to be able to pick up the pace at this rate!
MORE DREAD & TERROR
It’s probably clear by now, the D&T segment was not shaping up to be my favorite part of the trail. Yet despite my general frustration at the slow pace I was having to endure, I did have some sights that I really enjoyed. Like the unexpected waterfall that was on the opposite bank of the river. One minute I’m looking down at the trail trying to avoid a slug shish-kabob. The next minute, I’m staring at a startlingly impressive waterfall that seemingly came out of nowhere.
Then I had a nice morning rest break near some giant boulders (with not a single fallen tree in sight!). And the views of the river below and sun shining on my face while I relaxed made me grateful for this solo adventure. This trail has been calling my name for so many seasons, and the fact that I’m finally here is something to behold. Perhaps the challenges of the trail are what make these other moments so much sweeter.
But then the the trail turned super wet, and I ended up having to wade in nearly to my calves. Initially, I thought I might be able to keep my feet dry by walking on a log or two and doing some rock hopping. But no such luck. After a 20 yards or so, the logs and stumps and rocks disappeared altogether, and I had no more dry spots to hop on to. The vegetation beside the trail was too thick to provide any respite, and is I just resigned myself to getting my shoes and socks soaked as I forded the flooded trail. Back to the good old D&T I know and loathe.
WATERFALLS
The swampy trail transitioned once again, and the last few miles of D&T weren’t so bad. I could now hear water rushing on both sides of me. To my right was the mighty Umpqua. And to my left were waterfalls, streams, and all kinds of hidden gems. My favorite was a series of shallow mossy rock caves beside the trail with little waterfalls inside of them.
And then the waterfalls shifted to the trail. It was like a river running down toward me. I didn’t mind that I had to wade through all the water (my shoes were already soaked, after all), but I did definitely have to watch my step to make sure I didn’t slip and fall on any of the rocks on my way back to terra firma once again.
And the final water surprise came right before the end of the D&T segment. I turned a corner and saw a 30-foot tall rock wall covered with tons of moss and lichen. The wall wasn’t flat, but had jagged edges that jutted out like a saw’s teeth. And in between the gaps of each one, rivulets or water were pouring down the wall. This awesome discovery was Columnar Falls. My pictures don’t do it justice because it’s truly breathtaking in real life.
UMPQUA HOT SPRINGS
I finally ended the D&T segment of this trail just after 12 pm. Yep. That means it took me more than 5 hours to hike 11.5 miles. All the obstacles forced me into a far, far slower pace than I’d hoped when I got up this morning.
I had to remind myself it wasn’t the end of the world to have to slow down. The summer days are long. I still had plenty of time to hike. And it’s not like I had a designated campsite picked out for the night. Right now I’d focus on enjoying what’s right in front of me – the Umpqua Hot Springs.
The hot springs are a popular spot for locals and visitors alike. People can drive right up to trailhead parking lot, and then take a short 0.3-mile trail to the top of mountain where a series of milky blue pools reach 108°F, and elevated views of the North Umpqua River running below them.
I suspected this spot might be crowded on weekends, but I didn’t really expect to see the place packed on a Tuesday at lunchtime. Yet, it was. I guess that’s what you get if you hike the trail in July. And with the coronavirus, people are looking for short, easy summertime trips outdoors. So, it shouldn’t have been that surprising to see more than a dozen cars in the parking lot.
One thing I really hoped to take advantage of at the Hot Springs trailhead was the pit toilet. But the instant I opened the door, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. The interior was literally trashed. It was overflowing with garbage, and reminded me of the nasty pit toilet I encountered back at Spooner Lake on Day 3 of my Tahoe Rim Trail thru-hike. No thank you. I’d rather pee in the woods than traipse through piles of stinky trash, used condoms, and mad poopers who missed their target.
So I kept moving. Time to head off trail to see the Umpqua Hot Springs on the short 0.3-mile side trail After crossing the river on another long metal bridge (this one free from tree damage), I took a right turn onto Trail #1444 – the Hot Springs Trail. The trail was a significant departure from the well-graded North Umpqua Trail. It ascended toward the top of a hill, and it was at such a steep grade that there were handrails installed to assist visitors in getting to the top safely. I was glad for the assistance, because this wasn’t an easy climb given the fatigue in my legs from this morning’s obstacle course and the pack on my back.
Once I reached the top of the hill and went around the final bend, I could see the main hot spring. It was under a shingled structure that had definitely seen better days. The spring was the size of a 6-person hot tub, and there was already a family of four sitting in the warm water in the shade.
I didn’t have any intention of going in the water during my lunch break, but it was still a little disappointing to find it crowded. After dipping my hand in the water of one of the pools and taking a few more photos, it was definitely time to leave. Several new couples, with coolers in hand and beach towels slung over their necks, were just coming around corner and eyeballing the warm pools. This place was definitely too popular for me.
So, I decided to work my way back into the woods and set up my tent. Not 50 yards off the trail, I found a spot that had clearly been used as a hasty tent site in the past. I was now more than ready to take off my wet socks and hang them over the tent to dry. And that’s exactly what I did for my relaxing hour-long lunch while propping my head on my food bag and reading on my phone’s Kindle app.
WHICH WAY?
After lunch, it was time to head back down the hill toward the bridge to get back on the North Umpqua Trail again. I’d seen two possible trails my way to the Hot Springs Trail, and now I wasn’t sure which one to take. As I got to the main junction there seemed to be a trail that went off up and over hill. That was a promising option, but there weren’t any signs marking it as the North Umpqua Trail.
I backtracked a little bit further and saw another well-worn trail by the bridge that ran right along to the water’s edge. That seemed like a promising option too. But there wasn’t any sign there either. Which one was the correct trail?
I decided to explore the river trail first and found myself weaving by a few older campsites before the trail went off into the brush. It was still a defined trail, but the further I went, the fainter it became. After about 1/3 of a mile, I knew this one had been the wrong choice. The vegetation was now nearly waist high, and this looked nothing like the trail I’d spend the past day-and-a-half following.
So, I backtracked once again and headed up to the other option. Sure enough, this was the correct trail. I’d wasted close to 20 minutes following the wrong path and frittering more of the day away. Today was not going to go down in the record books for making miles or a record pace.
CRAZY LADY
The next section of trail that I was attempting to complete to day was the Hot Springs Segment of the NUT. At 3.5 miles, it’s the shortest segment on this thru-hike, which gave me a mental boost.
With renewed fire in my belly to pick up the pace this afternoon, I decided I would see how fast I could hike it. But, I before long, I found my semi-wet socks were chafing a bit and I needed to stop to adjust them at a bridge near Deer Creek.
While I was fixing my socks, a lone female day hiker with a small backpack came walking down the trail. She seemed to moving at a good clip as she passed, so I didn’t expect to see her again. But then, a half mile further down the trail, I could see her down in the water and wading into to her knees to get some water. I gave her a little finger wave as I passed. It was nice to see someone actually enjoying a bit of the the backcountry and not just the waterfalls or hot springs near the trailheads.
I was keeping a good pace for the next 15 minutes or so when I decided to stop and take a picture of something that caught my attention on trail. And since I was already stopped, I decided to spin around and take a picture of the trial behind me. In that moment, I was shocked to see that same lade was now walking behind barely 20 feet behind me and had a bandana covering the bottom of her face.
What the heck??
I hadn’t even heard her coming up behind me. And she wasn’t wearing that bandana when I was fixing my socks or when I passed her in the river a few minutes back. Why was she wearing it now? Was it a coronavirus precaution because she thought she might need to leapfrog with me yet again? Or was she planning something more sinister and trying to sneak up on me?
Perhaps my imagination was going into overdrive, but I got a really weird vibe from her in that moment. It was evident that she was just as startled that I’d turned around so quickly. And then when she saw my phone in camera mode, she abruptly stopped and seemed to quickly back up.
Now, I know this gesture could have been a courteous effort to stay out of the frame of my shot. But part of me wondered if she doing it to keep me from documenting what she looked like. Was she stalking me?!? Ok. This was really getting weird now.
I quickly turned back around and decided to kick it into high gear. If she was just hiking the trail like a normal person, I’d put some distance between us and that would be the end of it. But, if she stuck with me – we’ll let’s just say the mace might be coming out…
I started cruising down the trail at a brisk 4 mph pace, and each time the trail turned a bend, I’d glance back to see where she was at. Even though I never saw her again, I still couldn’t shake the heebie-jeebies. The trail wound back and forth in the dark shade of the trees and there was a damp creepiness to this section of trail.
On the positive side though, I was making some really good time nearly jogging down the trail. I was pushing myself hard to get some distance between me and this lady – and it seemed to be working. And then I popped out of the dark forest and into the bright sunshine where I could see the long wooden bridge to Tokotee Lake Trailhead.
An older man and a younger couple were standing on the edge of the parking lot looking at the the trail sign. And their company instantly made me feel safe again. I glanced over my shoulder one more time back toward the forest. Still no crazy lady stalking me. So who knows. Perhaps she’d just been an ordinary hiker after all (and I was the crazy lady)!!
DEER LEAP
With the D&T and Hot Springs Segments behind me it was time to assess my options. I’d hiked 15 miles thus far today and the next segment was 9.6 miles long. I probably wouldn’t make it the entire was through this stretch, so I needed to keep my eyes out for somewhere good to camp for the night.
As I approached the Deer Leap Trailhead, I could see there was a flyer was stapled to the sign. What was this?? Once I was close enough, I could see it was a warning from the Forest Service that the Medicine Creek bridge was out ahead. Well, that was 9 miles down the trail, so it’s probably not a problem to deal with today. But, it was still good to know.
The trail climbed quite a bit for the next few miles, and before I knew it, I was weaving my way between basalt boulders and up onto a high ridgeline. I couldn’t see or hear the river anymore, and it was easily several hundred feet below me somewhere in the valley to my left. That didn’t bode well for finding a campsite by the water. But maybe I’d find a nice creek flowing down toward the river and could use that as my evening water source instead.
I could hear some road noise from the North Umpqua Highway (Hwy 138) below as it paralleled the river, I but still couldn’t hear or see any water. And so I trudged onward looking for a suitable spot. I now had a blister on my heel from trying to be a speed demon and ditch the crazy lady on the last segment. And the demands of the day were starting to catch up to me. I was getting more and more tired, but I needed to keep going until I found water.
MEDICINE CREEK
Despite my hopes to the contrary, the first water on this segment of trail wouldn’t come until I got to Medicine Creek. I didn’t see or hear any streams until I reached the spot where the bridge was out. And when I arrived, I really hoped there would be a bunch of nice flat campsites on one end of the bridge of the other, just like when I crossed the “take that” bridge this morning. But, of course there wasn’t anything suitable.
Instead, what I found was a bridge that was completely destroyed by trees. It was folded nearly in half and each end was completely off the abutments. There was no feasible way too cross it, and I spent the next several minutes puzzling how in the world I was going to get to the other side.
The creek cut itself through a narrow canyon, and the trail was nearly 60 feet above the water. Fallen trees were uprooted nearby and the steep slopes down to the water looked like a mudslide had taken place too. Not good. After walking up and down the trail, I finally found a spot that looked slightly less sketchy, It was feasible, if I took it slow. And so I lowered myself down the slope backwards, grasping roots and trying my best not to slide down to the bottom.
After making my way all the way down, there was ample wood and fallen trees to use to cross the creek itself. That wasn’t a problem. The next issue was how to scramble back up to the steep slope to the other side. Luckily, the far side seemed to be a little lower and I could see a path that other hikers had used as a guide. I got fairly dirty in the process, and my legs were all scratched up as I clawed my way back up the slope, but I made it intact.
SODA SPRINGS
Once I passed Medicine Creek, there was no reason not to finish the rest of this segment. It was only 0.6 miles to the trailhead. And by then, I should be back on the banks of the Umpqua once again! The next trailhead was supposed to be right by dam for the Soda Springs Reservoir. That sounded promising!
Unfortunately, the dam here at the end of Soda Springs Reservoir did the same thing that every dam does. It significantly dropped the water level below the river banks. That was not great new for my water access, yet again. But as I made my way to the trailhead, I had to duck under a giant pipe carrying water away from the reservoir. And that’s when I noticed one of seams in the pipeline had sprung a leak. I supposed I could get water there, right?
But first I needed to drop my pack and get the weight off my back. From the trailhead I could see a pit toilet and a parking area. And off to the left there was a picnic area with a nice little tent spot and a metal fire ring nearby. Score! And established campsite for the evening. I could see and hear the river down below me and I have the benefit of a soft, flat spot and a picnic table. Plus, I’d have the luxury of a pit toilet too!!
With my tent pitched for the evening, it was time to head back over to the pipeline to see if I could gather some water. The small gap was spraying water out with a lot of force. It was find of like trying to fill your water bladder from a power sprayer at the car wash. I got wetter than I wanted to in the process, but there was ample water. And beggars can’t be choosers, right.
If only the people I went to law school could see me know. Only two days into this adventure, I was filthy and smelling pretty ripe. I was gathering water from a leaky pipe and getting ready to sleep on the ground. And I was washing myself in a shallow puddle in the grass. I looked like a homeless person and I was happy as could be. Yep, I really am hikertrash!!
COLUMNAR BASALT
Today turned out to be a brutal day. Not only had I hiked a near-marathon distance (25.2 miles), but there were so many other challenges thrown into the mix. All the blown down trees and the giant slugs on the D&T section. The flooded trail that got my socks soaked and led to a blister. Accidentally wandering onto the wrong trail after lunch. Trying to outpace a creepy lady on the Hot Springs Segment. Making my way across Medicine Creek without an intact bridge. It was a big day!!
But the best part was still yet to come. As I wandered over to check out the pit toilet, I discovered the most awesome sight of the day. On the far side of the river, I could see a 30-foot vertical rock wall. But on closer inspection, I realized it wasn’t just an ordinary wall. It was the columnar basalt – a series narrow bands of basalt rising toward the sky.
These vertical columns were formed from molten lava that seemed to end in a cubist pattern. Bright green and orange lichen color the wall, while the river flows below it created a hypnotic pattern that I could seemingly gaze at forever. This remote spot was one of the true highlights of the NUT, in my opinion. It was definitely worth the journey!!
NUT DAY 2 SUMMARY
HIGHLIGHTS
- All the wonderful, unexpected waterfalls along the route today. They are definitely one of the highlights of the NUT!
- The Umpqua Hot Springs – even though it wasn’t as tranquil as I’d hoped and I didn’t actually go in for a soak, the springs are quite beautiful and worth the steep hike to get there
- My trailhead campsite was a unexpected surprise. I didn’t expect to find an established site with a picnic bench and fire ring near the trailhead. And I can honestly say I enjoyed the benefits of having a comfy surface to cook on and eat dinner, and using the nearby pit toilet so I didn’t have more bee drama like last night!
- Columnar Basalt – You just have to see it to believe what magma can do.
CHALLENGES
- At least 100 downed trees to climb over, under, and through on the Dread and Terror section of the trail. I can’t believe it took me close to 5 hours to hike a mere 11.5 miles!! What a chore.
- The giant green “dog turd” slugs on the trail seriously grossed me out. Thank goodness I didn’t accidentally step on or skewer one and get slug guts everywhere!
- Gathering water near my campsite – that was the first (and last) time I want to hold a water bladder up to a leaking flume pipe.