Cheryl, Janet, Sandy, and I planned to hike the Wild and Scenic Rogue River trail 40 miles from Graves Creek to trail's end at Illahe Lodge. After a night at the lodge, we would hike the 40 miles back. Eighty miles for my 80th birthday.
We started up the canyon on May 16.
The wildflowers were amazing. Yellow tarweed flowed down the steep canyon walls like water, bringing flotsam of blue gilia and white buckwheat with it. Wild azaleas stopped us in our tracks with their sweet aromas. Wild irises abounded—white and cream ones with purple veins; deep yellow irises and, farther down the trail, gorgeous white ones with deep purple tips. All down the trail, the wildflowers were stunning.
The jewels of the trail, though, were the swimming holes. First stop—a beautiful swim in Whiskey Creek. What could be better? Well, maybe Kelsey Creek, with its deep blue pool, or the swimming hole on Paradise Creek, or the swim under the long waterfall of Flora Dell, but the crowning jewel was the swimming hole on Mule Creek—turquoise water, large rocks, a long pool for swimming. I was in Paradise.
But Paradise is a variable concept. Lying on a river beach, soaking up the sun as the river gurgled over rocks and lapped at the shore, Sandy said, "This is my Paradise."
In other places, mosquitoes blemished Paradise, as did, a bit, the fact that in the confusion of packing, the poles for Sandy and Cheryl's tent got left behind. Ingenuity came to the rescue. At Russian Creek, where there were no trees between which to stretch a rope, Sandy rigged up the tent on the bridge. Hikers who came later had to clamber over the railing and jump onto the trail, at the other end. No one minded.
Other campsites had more convenient trees for setting up a tent using ropes and hiking poles.
When we were on the river beach, we all slept without a tent.
The day after we started our hike, the Forest Service put up a sign at the trailheads warning hikers about a slide on the trail. We, of course, were unaware of the danger. On the third day Sandy and I, hiking ahead of Cheryl and Janet, came to the slide, which was slippery with scree and intersected by a chasm. Sandy, taller than I, leapt the chasm first, then held out a hand to help me across. Done, and on we went. I hardly registered the danger.
A few days later we were at Illahe Lodge.
First things first: showers. Then, wearing the oversized tee shirts on loan from Coleen, lodge owner, we stuffed the washing machine with our trail clothes. My friends Margaret and Bryan were there with supplies for the way back. Janet's husband drove in to join us for the night. We had a real dinner, complete with a birthday cake for Cheryl, who had turned 76 on the trail
We slept well that night, in real beds, and breakfasted well the next morning. Then we packed up and set out for the return trip to Graves Creek.
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