Rogue River Hike - June 2012

Our entire packs for four
days on the trail

What started out as an innocent inquiry between friends, turned into a forty mile hike, over four days, along the Rogue River Trail. Although John initially agreed to go, he soon was tagged: Mr. Reluctant. We physically prepared by walking eight miles a day--day after day--week after week, around our town. (Well, actually, we walked eight miles a day for one week immediately preceding this adventure.) We were ready.

Morrison's Rogue River Lodge 

Adirondacks at Morrison's Rogue River Lodge

Our crazy group

John had me believing we would not make it back in one piece, that we'd become bear bait, that we'd die on the trail. Hours before we started, I wondered, what did I get us into?

Packs contained only what could be carried on our backs. Clothing was minimal--an evening outfit and after the first nine hours--a stinky daytime one. Lots of water. Minimal toiletries.


In reality, we'd be living it up because at the end of each hiking day, we planned to spend the night in a different rustic lodge along our route. The lodge personnel cooked dinner, breakfast, and packed everyone a hearty lunch in the morning.

The day before the big hike began, our group of ten headed south on I-5. First stop: Morrison's Rogue River Lodge, in Merlin, Oregon. We stayed there for two reasons: vehicles could be parked for the duration of our hike and staff promised transportation to the trailhead. Morrison's location is right on the river and has abundant outdoor seating, birdhouses with lots of birds, and a setting so pretty I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

I have to admit, when the big, white van dropped us in the parking lot and drove away, my heart beat a little faster. Was John right? I worried. Was this it? But within the first uphill mile, I knew we'd be fine.

First moments on the trail

Me...the Rogue in the background

Walking the path along the Rogue

Everyone started out at the same pace, but soon friends broke off into clusters, hiking at the pace that worked best for them. One member of our group provided us with walkie-talkies so we could check in with each other every hour. For some reason, my trail name became: Pole Dancer.

Sign to first lodge

The first day, we hiked about ten miles.

It was close to ninety degrees and although I froze the water I intended to drink (I like my aqua ice cold) it didn't melt as quickly as I thought it would.











The trail
wove up and down, up and down,
along steep drop-offs, with impressive river views. When we came upon the sign for Black Bar Lodge,  we figured it was all down hill from there. And it was.  On a steep, rocky, goat-like trail. Black Bar was located on the other side of the river, but the acoustics in the area were amazing. Adam heard us coming and started rowing across the river to pick members of our group up and row them to the other side of the river where a lodge made from logs nestled into a grove of thick fir. Only two or three persons could go at a time. So Adam rowed back and forth until our entire group stood on the south shore of the river.

View of the river in front of Black Bar Lodge

Adam rowed us across the river to get to
Black Bar Lodge

Black Bar Lodge

Scenery at Black Bar Lodge

Our private cabin at Black Bar

Black Bar staff welcomed us with gallons of ice tea, lemonade, and fresh-baked oatmeal cookies.

About ten cabins nestle near the tree line providing a private setting for each couple. The interiors were sparse, the beds lumpy, the shower water: good and hot. We were so exhausted, the accommodations felt like a luxury suite at the Hilton.

Interior of Black Bar Lodge
where we dined and socialized

The scenery along the river changed

Rogue River rafters going over the rapids

Inside the main lodge, dinner--fried chicken, mashed potatoes, homemade rolls, fresh green beans--was served family-style. All meals were included in the price of the lodging.

We relaxed on the front lawn in front of the lodge and watched a deer graze--unconcerned-- within a few feet of us.

The generator stopped at 10:00 p.m. sharp--only light after that, flashlights carried in our day packs. But light was not a problem. Everyone was tired; we all headed for bed.









The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, Adam rowed everyone over to the north side of the river (in small groups), and we hiked up the steep, rocky goat-like trail, and headed west. Terrains varied during this 14.8 mile day: meadows, river views, and lush forests with leafy ferns. The path crossed over many wooden bridges (snow melt gurgled underneath) before we reached our second lodge: Marial Lodge.

For some reason, the (almost) 15 mile day didn't seem as long as the first day (only 10 miles). Maybe we were adjusting to the trail, maybe we had a better water supply, maybe any apprehension we'd felt had faded. We probably wouldn't ever do this hike again, so I treasured every step, every view.

One of the twenty or so bridges
along the forty mile hike

The owner of Marial Lodge directed us to our private rooms that resembled Motel 6 accommodations. Clean, simple decorations, tidy bathrooms. Marial had a honor bar (pay for drinks from the fridge as you go). Beer and soda were fully stocked and taken advantage of by every thirsty hiker. I guzzled a cold beer, then switched to my favorite beverage: diet cola. Dinner was served family style again--all homemade and hearty portions.

The lodges cater to both hikers and rafters. Normally, the lodges would be completely full and we'd share the place with rafting outfitters and their patrons. But our group lucked out, we were the only people at every single lodge so we had extra special treatment (except at Clay Hill Lodge--which I will discuss later).

Hummingbirds at the Marial Lodge--on their deck

Waterfalls on the on the
south side of the river

Another lodge along the Rogue River

Day three was one of our shortest hikes, about eight miles. Mid morning, we came upon Paradise Lodge and enjoyed a cold beverage on the deck overlooking the Rogue. The staff here was friendly and allowed us to use the facilities. We rested in the sunshine for close to an hour--the place so enjoyable we didn't want to leave. I'd love to return here and stay for a night or two.

Sign on the tree at Paradise Lodge

Meadow near Paradise Lodge

   






The scenery and views surrounding Paradise were peaceful; the beauty indescribable--it took your breath away.
















Cows chewed cud in a field, thick forests protected the property, wild flowers rustled in a soft breeze.

Cows in meadow near Paradise Lodge

Clay Hill Lodge signage

King snake that surprised
me on the path

We arrived at Clay Hill Lodge in early afternoon. The owner wasn't ready for us. I'm not including a link for this lodge because I wouldn't recommend it. For several reasons. I realize our group arrived a head of schedule, but we were content to sit on the deck, drink, chat, and enjoy the river views.

However, this owner acted stressed out at our early arrival, his words short, cutting off our questions. Some questions were ignored. I asked if there were any reading material or games at the lodge. He curtly answered,  "No." Later, I happened upon a bookcase in the hikers area with plenty of loaner books.

But we stayed out of his way for the two hours until the official check-in time. When it was time to be assigned rooms, he lead two couples to an area where they'd have to share a bath. Our reservations were for rooms with private baths. The only occupants of this place were the members of our group. There were unused rooms, with unused private baths. Three couples asked about relocating but the owner was adamant, "Can't be done." The food (compared to the other two lodges) was disappointing.

This was the only lodge where we had a black bear sighting. The sun was setting when I suddenly noticed movement in the bushes on the hillside. Out ran a small bear, heading for the river. He disappeared into shrubery. Thirty minutes later, he hightailed it from the brush, bounded up the hill, and disappeared into the forest. That was the extent of our bear sighting. I was giddy.

Once home, we reviewed our reservation documents and found that we had been mis-assigned rooms. We'd paid for ones with private baths. One hiker wrote about this and the mediocre meal (for the price paid at this lodge compared to the other ones on the Rogue). No response. Therefore, we would never return to this lodge in the future. We initially picked it because it had been featured on a national TV show. But it certainly did not meet our expectations.

View of the river from Clay Hill balcony

Linda and John on the last section of trail

Last days trail: lush

Sunshine heated the trail the first three days. The last day we woke to gray skies, and hoped the rain would hold off until we'd finished all forty miles. But that was not to be. An hour into the morning, sprinkles brushed our cheeks. A steady downpour soon drenched our clothes. Water ran down my pant legs, into my shoes. Every step made a squishy sound. The Rogue River trail had poison oak throughout, (lots of warnings on-line about this). On the last day, foliage heavy with rain, draped across the trail. We wore the zip-on pant legs (the kind that turn shorts into long pants) on this day to prevent the irritating oil from getting on our skin. If anyone experienced an outbreak, it was minor. Several hikers carried poison ivy wash--just in case. The rain did not dampen our opinion of this adventure. John turned out to be the most vocal about his experience. 

"Great experience!" he said. "A real feeling of accomplishment."