Originally, I had planned to hike all the way up to Indian Springs Campground, but thought the better of it.  That would have been quite a haul considering the snow level was well below 2000 feet and the campground was somewhere at the altitude of 4400.  Not to mention, I would have to do tomorrow all what I planned today in even more snow.

One of the benefits of hiking in the Gorge while it is raining is all the smaller waterfalls you don't normally see during the drier months.  Another is, of course, the lack of the "swarm" and the increase in solitude.

The trail weaved in and out along the edge of the ravine, occasionally blessing me with views high above.  I was pleased at my decision of not making this weekend a two-day trip as I felt a cold coming on just wanted to ease back into the swing of things.  I took advantage of the stillness and let my mind wander over subjects I have been pondering within the last few months. 

It was easy to think out here as Punchbowl Falls came and went.  My mind and body were at one as the miles rolled by, but not without effort.  Indeed I have been off the trail for some time and I felt it.  I was not hurting, mind you, it just took a bit of conscious effort to maintain a simple three and a half mile-per-hour pace.

Startled, I turned around in amazement thinking no one could catch me given my pace and no one was at the trailhead as I left it.  I stepped aside as six trail-runners zoomed passed me, sweating heavily, all saying a friendly good morning.  While they passed, I gazed at falls on the other side of the creek that are mere trickles in the late summer months.  The mist soon turned to rain as I pulled my hood over my head and sloshed my way along the trail.

As I approached High Bridge, I remembered a moment of my past and how, at one time, this spot held a special memory for me.  The memory holds no value to me anymore, but it is there nonetheless.  What was more interesting to me at the time was a puzzle, formed by some logs, jammed into the narrow canyon's walls far below.

The miles continued to flow by as I was getting closer to Tunnel Falls.  I was enjoying myself, something I have not done in the woods for a long time.  My mind and my body were at one.  They were at peace with my past and my possible future, allowing me to live in the present, undeterred.  

I rounded the last corner to see Tunnel Falls.  Although I felt the distance I had walked, I still had the same energy level as when I started, allowing me to hike on with confidence and to enjoy my surroundings.  Before hiking on, I wanted to stare at the falls as I had never been here without a crowd on the trail making me feel like I was passing on the Hillary Step.

I sat and thought of nothing.  I sat and stared at the falls.  I sat and ate some Oreo cookies in the only dry spot, seemingly, in the whole gorge.  Everything was where it should have been for me, here, today.

After getting up, I wondered how far I would venture on past Tunnel.  There was another spot along this trail that, at one time, also held very special memories.  I thought this the perfect opportunity, while in that very spot which I named Seven Mile Camp, to say goodbye to the memories.

After a small break, I decided that 14 miles would be enough for the day.  Along my return, I spotted a deer consumed by a cougar,  I would imagine, as it it's leg was quite large.  The rest of the carcass rested along the shores of the creek.  Judging by the odor coming from the remains, it was not killed long ago.  These are the first bones I have ever seen at along this stretch of trail.  Given how many people frequent "the most popular trail in Oregon", one would think the wildlife would avoid it altogether.

The last four miles were trying.  Not because I was tired, but because I got closer to the trailhead, allowing everyone and, quite literally, their mother to be out wandering.  Albeit mostly friendly, the swarms of people along with the many dogs, void of leashes, took their toll on the peace I was so spoiled with for most of the hike.  Serves me right for looking for solitude on such a beautiful and easy trail.  Back at the truck, I quickly called Sandra to let her know I was on my way home before changing into dry clothes and speeding off in search of lunch.  A perfect day back on the trail even with the rain.

Home