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Benson Plateau,
Columbia River Gorge |
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For a week, I have been reading about this rather difficult, little known hike up Ruckel Ridge. This is a hike along the ridgeline, paralleling the Ruckel Creek Trail, far below. Leaving from work a couple hours early, I embarked on the stupid mission of choosing a freak 90 degree day to start my ultra light backpacking practices. With only a liter platy bottle in my pack, I set out after arriving at the Eagle Creek Fish Hatchery.
Climbing rapidly and sweating profusely, I arrived at Buck Point quickly. Not knowing what lay ahead, I took a breather gazing at the beauty around me, although the views without the wires would have been much better.
Continuing on found me at a large 30 degree scree field. This would not normally be difficult, but it was hot out and already I had only on half a quart left in my bottle. I slowed my pace as I made it to the root ladders that make up a bit of this difficult trail.
Now on the ridge, I could see Eagle Creek far, far below me. After consulting my topo, I set out again, now down to my last drops of water. I figured I could fill up at Ruckel Creek, after arriving.
The trail snaked it's way over spires and through trees, following closely to the edge of the ridge. I paused for a while in the shade and made a quick call to my wife, letting her know that I was okay.
I snapped a lot of pictures as the wild flowers were quite numerous. Unfortunately, so was the poison oak. I did not get any on me this trip, but people unaware of it's constant presence may not be so lucky. A little further up, the trail reentered the forest and began climbing further. I was very hot now as I was out of water and starting to feel the effects. I stomped my way up the ridge to what is known as the catwalk. The Catwalk was a "trail" at the top of the ridge about six inches wide and very dangerous. Considering my strength was just about gone, I declined and took the safer route around it instead.
I was really starting to feel the effects of dehydration. With my heart rate at a resting 150 beats per minute, I was almost in panic mode. Cursing the ridge, I wondered how much farther the thing went up. It seemed like I had climbed for 10 miles, but was only 3.5. As soon as I thought that, I hit the edge of the Benson Plateau. I could not believe how steep the trail had been only to flatten out so abruptly. While stumbling forward, I heard it. I heard the sweet sound of water. Things I take for granted at home, almost on a daily basis, meant everything to me out here. I drank and then drank some more. Over an hour later, I sloshed my way up the trail, eventually merging with the Ruckel Creek Trail.
It was getting dark fast due to my slow progress, so I just found a flat spot in the woods somewhere and set up the tent, not even caring if it was pitched right. I rolled myself inside my small shelter, drinking more water. I dozed and soon awoke with incredible cramps, lasting until two in the morning. After vomiting up the Cliff Bar I had eating while climbing the ridge, the cramps went away and I felt great. I did not even have enough water for digestion as this was the most dehydrated I have ever been in my life. A lesson learned. I went back to sleep peacefully.
Awaking at 7:30AM, I fumbled out of the tent feeling fine. I made a quick breakfast and struck camp. It was a beautiful morning with mostly clear skies and a slight breeze. I did not especially want to go down what I had come up yesterday, so I chose the Ruckel Creek trail as my retreat instead. The trail dropped gradually, but that ended soon as the elevation fell rapidly after a mile. Even though I was not on the ridge, I still had some great views. One of them was of the ridge itself. While looking at it, it did seem rather steep compared to the trail I was currently on.
Down the trail went, bobbing and weaving, sometimes straight and other times utilizing switchbacks. I was losing elevation quickly as I stopped to have a snack. A couple hikers passed by asking if I was on my way up. After telling them a little of my chosen route, a "No Thank You" was said. Ultimately, the elevation was the same with the only difference being about a mile less in distance, making for the steeper grade. It was really not that hard, if one was to bring enough water...
Thumping my way through the woods, I came out again into the open and stopped again to have a think. This was an especially beautiful place with open meadows and fields filled with grass and wild flowers. The breeze made contemplation easy and productive. Close by, there were a few Indian pits like those found on Wind Mountain, Silver Star Mountain, and Table Mountain. I ended my thinking prematurely to have a look at them.
Closer to the trailhead, there was a gap in the trees where I could see the Bridge Of The Gods and stopped to look at the surrounding landscape. Indeed, I could see where the landslide took place some 800 years ago as this seemed to be the best spot to cross without the dam.
Still 1800 feet up, I stopped and took long breaks, forcing myself to enjoy the hike more than setting goals and time limits. With views of Hamilton Mountain, Table Mountain and Wauna Lake right in front of it, just to name a few, there was a lot to gaze at. Gazing over, I tromped my way to the trailhead, bisecting trail 400. A quick half mile jaunt got me back to my truck, a weekend older, but much more experienced.
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