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Rudolph Spur,
Columbia River Gorge |
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I estimated a mere twelve years had passed since my buddy Jim and I were fumbling around the perimeter of St. Helens, inexperienced and filled with enthusiasm. A lot has changed over the years, but one thing has stayed the same; the love for the out of doors. Like myself, Jim has a knack for wanting to challenge himself at times as I was introduced to the suggestion of hiking an abandoned trail I have only heard of in passing.
The Rudolph Spur route, illustrated in one of his older books, was not to be found in any of mine, but sounded like fun, sporting a section that climbed 1300 feet in a scan half mile. A pre-sunlit morning drive lead us to the familiar trailhead of Herman Creek where we set out up the trail up towards the PCT. I had never been on this section of the PCT and rather enjoyed the views it offered.
After crossing the Dry Creek Falls road, we headed up. The sweat dripped continuously in the chilly morning air as the grade steepened and I wondered when the most challenging part would ensue. I did not have to wonder long as we traversed the end of the ridgeline. Before rounding it, we were awarded a small clearing sporting views of the Columbia, a small reward before glancing up at the precipitous rut above us.
I have never gained elevation so fast in the gorge, and thought it quite fun. The path, not really a trail at this point, was reasonable and tractable at times and root ladders at others. At one point, we had come across blow-down with steps chopped out in order to continue along the "trails" route.
Up the ridge we climbed, which, inconspicuous from our topo, was in fact quite prominent. A cool, welcome breeze blew across the small clearing, cooling our overheated bodies. I figured we only had another 600 feet of vertical left in front of us before hitting the edge of The Benson. The beautiful skies overhead lifted our spirits even higher as Mt. Adams, St. Helens, and Rainier came into view.
I took a moment to gulp down some water, following it up with a king sized almond Snickers. I scanned across Gifford-Pinchot National Forest to glance at my seat on Helen's rim from last January. This has been a great year in so many aspects for me, and it seems to be just getting better. Things were good.
After the clearing, the trail tilted downward as I questioned its' accuracy. I could see the edge of the Benson and longed for the climbing to be over sooner than later, but down we went. Jim's notes from the book verified we were on the right track as it was a welcome rest before the final push.
The final push was a steep one as I actually had to kick steps in the pine needles and duff to gain purchase to the ridge that would lead me to Benson's south edge. Jim took a more direct approach as we hit the Benson at the same time. We sauntered around before meeting up with the Ruckel Creek trail, following the way trail to the creek for lunch.
After lunch we scurried our way across the longest part of the plateau, with Jim picking up Mylar balloon trash, to meet the PCT. Along the way, I could not help noticing my nose was rather cold. I had to ask Jim if it was as cold to him. He had brought a thermometer that read a startling 34 degrees that was validated by the ice chucks along the trails edge. Picking up the pace to create some body heat turned into a knee-jarring run that lasted most of the way back to the Herman Creek Bridge, getting back to the car quickly and, me, getting home on time.
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