If they wanted us to stay on the trail, they should have made it better.
My parents visited this weekend and we went for a couple of bike rides and a hike.
On our way to the hike, we missed the road that was supposed to eventually take us to the trailhead and instead tried to use the forest roads to come at it from the other direction. This would have worked if not for some flood damage which had closed one of the major roads, which we did not discover until we had already been driving through the forest for half the morning. So we settled for a different trailhead and set off on the only trail that originated from that point.
Despite the fact that almost every trailhead sign is positioned right next to the trail, and despite the fact that there was a trail next to the trailhead sign, it turns out that the actual trail was quite some distance off to the left, and thus we embarked on a Trail of Lies that led us a merry chase through the woods, sometimes a footpath, sometimes a deer trail, and sometimes not there at all. Eventually, while wandering around trying to find the "trail" after it had vanished yet again, we stumbled upon the real trail. Thus reassured, and resolved to follow the real trail on the way back (or so we thought), we began our hike properly at last.
It looks like a trail, right? Please note that the branches across the path were added by yours truly later, in an effort to aid other poor travelers. Dad also scribbled a note in Sharpie on top of that metal post.
'Ware the false trail, my friends. The more people who mistakenly take that route, the more it looks like a real trail. Don't give it any more power.
These granite cliffs around here are damn difficult to photograph. Too shiny. But if you adjust your exposure, the forest is too dark. Wah.
We spotted a waterfall a few miles down the trail. Unfortunately, whoever built the trail did not consider that hikers might want to visit lovely waterfalls up close. I forget the exact logic that led to the decision--probably revenge for the earlier trail blunder--but we decided it was our prerogative to bushwhack down to the falls for lunch. Don't try this at home, kids. Erosion and plant trampling and such. Also risk to life and limb. It was steep.
Totally worth it, though.
The pool at the top
The waterfall
Lunchtime
The boys got comfy.
We climbed to the next pool up as well to see what we could see. Turns out, it was another waterfall.
We got back on the trail and hiked for a while longer. Here again we see the photographer's dilemma: washed-out mountains or dark foreground. I tried the flash, but it was too far away. Ah, well.
I found a fungus
Dan found a giant wisher thingie, as he demonstrates.
So we obediently followed the trail all the way back to... well, it went back down to the creek. Even though the parking lot was well above the creek. Uh oh, we thought, this must be a completely different trail. It has taken us past the parking lot and we see it nowhere. Let's jump back into the bushes and look for it.
Dan and Dad elected to cut up the hill through the brush. I figured, if we had to walk up a hill, we might as well walk back up on the trail and then cut into the brush. Makes for easier going. So Mom and I split off from the boys. As it turns out, they got back to the truck a little faster, but we were less lost.
The boys estimated that they were past the parking lot and therefore, if they went uphill, must find either the parking lot or the road that led to it. As it turns out, they were not past the parking lot and walked until they were actually uphill of it, still vainly looking for the road. Luckily, once up there they had better reception for the panic button on Dad's key fob. Once they set off the truck alarm, they realized their mistake and turned around and found the truck shortly thereafter.
Since Mom and I went back the way we'd come a little ways, I was fairly certain that we were not past the parking lot and, once at the top of the hill, started walking in the correct direction. We came across a tree that looked familiar and realized that we were once again following our phantom trail from the beginning of the hike. We had followed it to an unmistakable landmark when we heard the truck alarm go off (we had tried using Mom's key fob earlier, before we found the phantom trail, but there was a hillside between us and the truck so it hadn't worked). We had a discussion as to whether the boys had found the truck and were trying to lead us to it, or whether they were still lost and pushing the panic button for their own benefit. I was on team panic button, and I won. Although, as we neared the end of the "trail," we heard the alarm go off again, this time indeed set by Dan in an effort to help us out. Not that we needed it at that point.
So all was well and no one was lost and everyone lived happily ever after once we had a couple of beers.
Although, as it turns out, the trail that we were on and decided that it was too close to the creek and was never going to take us back to the parking lot--yeah, if we had followed it for a few hundred more feet, it would've climbed back uphill and we would've been back. It was indeed the One True Trail, and you were supposed to dip down to the creek on the first part of the hike. Oh, well.
Oh, also we made sushi. We did not give any to the cat, despite how politely she sat at the table.
Although the meat was all smoked salmon and cooked shrimp and scallops because, you know, this is Baker and the seafood is questionable. I wonder if trout make good sushi....
On our way to the hike, we missed the road that was supposed to eventually take us to the trailhead and instead tried to use the forest roads to come at it from the other direction. This would have worked if not for some flood damage which had closed one of the major roads, which we did not discover until we had already been driving through the forest for half the morning. So we settled for a different trailhead and set off on the only trail that originated from that point.
Despite the fact that almost every trailhead sign is positioned right next to the trail, and despite the fact that there was a trail next to the trailhead sign, it turns out that the actual trail was quite some distance off to the left, and thus we embarked on a Trail of Lies that led us a merry chase through the woods, sometimes a footpath, sometimes a deer trail, and sometimes not there at all. Eventually, while wandering around trying to find the "trail" after it had vanished yet again, we stumbled upon the real trail. Thus reassured, and resolved to follow the real trail on the way back (or so we thought), we began our hike properly at last.
It looks like a trail, right? Please note that the branches across the path were added by yours truly later, in an effort to aid other poor travelers. Dad also scribbled a note in Sharpie on top of that metal post.
'Ware the false trail, my friends. The more people who mistakenly take that route, the more it looks like a real trail. Don't give it any more power.
These granite cliffs around here are damn difficult to photograph. Too shiny. But if you adjust your exposure, the forest is too dark. Wah.
We spotted a waterfall a few miles down the trail. Unfortunately, whoever built the trail did not consider that hikers might want to visit lovely waterfalls up close. I forget the exact logic that led to the decision--probably revenge for the earlier trail blunder--but we decided it was our prerogative to bushwhack down to the falls for lunch. Don't try this at home, kids. Erosion and plant trampling and such. Also risk to life and limb. It was steep.
Totally worth it, though.
The pool at the top
The waterfall
Lunchtime
The boys got comfy.
We climbed to the next pool up as well to see what we could see. Turns out, it was another waterfall.
We got back on the trail and hiked for a while longer. Here again we see the photographer's dilemma: washed-out mountains or dark foreground. I tried the flash, but it was too far away. Ah, well.
I found a fungus
Dan found a giant wisher thingie, as he demonstrates.
So we obediently followed the trail all the way back to... well, it went back down to the creek. Even though the parking lot was well above the creek. Uh oh, we thought, this must be a completely different trail. It has taken us past the parking lot and we see it nowhere. Let's jump back into the bushes and look for it.
Dan and Dad elected to cut up the hill through the brush. I figured, if we had to walk up a hill, we might as well walk back up on the trail and then cut into the brush. Makes for easier going. So Mom and I split off from the boys. As it turns out, they got back to the truck a little faster, but we were less lost.
The boys estimated that they were past the parking lot and therefore, if they went uphill, must find either the parking lot or the road that led to it. As it turns out, they were not past the parking lot and walked until they were actually uphill of it, still vainly looking for the road. Luckily, once up there they had better reception for the panic button on Dad's key fob. Once they set off the truck alarm, they realized their mistake and turned around and found the truck shortly thereafter.
Since Mom and I went back the way we'd come a little ways, I was fairly certain that we were not past the parking lot and, once at the top of the hill, started walking in the correct direction. We came across a tree that looked familiar and realized that we were once again following our phantom trail from the beginning of the hike. We had followed it to an unmistakable landmark when we heard the truck alarm go off (we had tried using Mom's key fob earlier, before we found the phantom trail, but there was a hillside between us and the truck so it hadn't worked). We had a discussion as to whether the boys had found the truck and were trying to lead us to it, or whether they were still lost and pushing the panic button for their own benefit. I was on team panic button, and I won. Although, as we neared the end of the "trail," we heard the alarm go off again, this time indeed set by Dan in an effort to help us out. Not that we needed it at that point.
So all was well and no one was lost and everyone lived happily ever after once we had a couple of beers.
Although, as it turns out, the trail that we were on and decided that it was too close to the creek and was never going to take us back to the parking lot--yeah, if we had followed it for a few hundred more feet, it would've climbed back uphill and we would've been back. It was indeed the One True Trail, and you were supposed to dip down to the creek on the first part of the hike. Oh, well.
Oh, also we made sushi. We did not give any to the cat, despite how politely she sat at the table.
Although the meat was all smoked salmon and cooked shrimp and scallops because, you know, this is Baker and the seafood is questionable. I wonder if trout make good sushi....