Some hikes just stay with me long after my feet stop treading the soil, much like a book whose characters live within me long after I close the final chapter. Angel’s Rest is one of those hikes.
I knew it was a straight up climb, but it would be worth it. Having Fridays off instead of Sundays gives me the advantage of being able to do walkabouts when everyone else is at work. With some narrow sections of trail and a sheer drop off the cliff, I like lightly trafficked trails. It’s not that Tucker doesn’t like other dogs; generally he does. But dogs don’t naturally walk head on into one another unless it’s to start something. To avoid conflict, it’s best to walk in an arch toward another dog. But with a cliff on one side and a steep hill on the other, it’s tough to do that. Urban dogs who regularly walk narrow, busy sidewalks with dogs coming and going right next to them and headed toward them have lived their entire lives used to this. Tucker is not one of those dogs.
So we were pleased to have to trail to ourselves. At one point a man in his 30’s with wild grey curls came up behind me with such stealth that Tucker and I missed him until he was only five steps behind us. Having like-minded trail-treaders who enjoy the silence is lovely, but it did give me a start.
I knew it was a straight up climb, but it would be worth it. Having Fridays off instead of Sundays gives me the advantage of being able to do walkabouts when everyone else is at work. With some narrow sections of trail and a sheer drop off the cliff, I like lightly trafficked trails. It’s not that Tucker doesn’t like other dogs; generally he does. But dogs don’t naturally walk head on into one another unless it’s to start something. To avoid conflict, it’s best to walk in an arch toward another dog. But with a cliff on one side and a steep hill on the other, it’s tough to do that. Urban dogs who regularly walk narrow, busy sidewalks with dogs coming and going right next to them and headed toward them have lived their entire lives used to this. Tucker is not one of those dogs.
So we were pleased to have to trail to ourselves. At one point a man in his 30’s with wild grey curls came up behind me with such stealth that Tucker and I missed him until he was only five steps behind us. Having like-minded trail-treaders who enjoy the silence is lovely, but it did give me a start.
The trail had a 1400 foot elevation gain in the 2.5 miles it would take to reach the summit. Luckily the beautiful weather (that prime 50-70 degrees) gave me an edge to make it up without dying. A dog with four separate heart issues and a middle-aged overweight woman in questionable health probably shouldn’t give this a go mid-summer. But the last week in October didn’t seem quite so risky.
Around every bend and along every edge was a beautiful vista to behold.
Around every bend and along every edge was a beautiful vista to behold.
Even when we weren't looking out over the river, there was beauty to behold within the forest.
Every now and again, I’d look up to see how close the summit was, and was always surprised that it seemed so close and yet was so far away.
A couple coming down gave me some advise on finding the path once we hit the “field of boulders”. “Just go straight. There’s a human-shaped whole in the shrubbery—that’s where you need to go.”
“Human-shaped hole” made me wonder if at some point someone had crashed through like the Kool-Aid Man.
I ended up not needing to find the hole, as two people were crossing the boulder field in my direction, so I merely headed toward them (because heading directly toward people isn’t the same thing as dogs heading toward one another). Then up we went again, to even more stunning views.
“Human-shaped hole” made me wonder if at some point someone had crashed through like the Kool-Aid Man.
I ended up not needing to find the hole, as two people were crossing the boulder field in my direction, so I merely headed toward them (because heading directly toward people isn’t the same thing as dogs heading toward one another). Then up we went again, to even more stunning views.
The peak was more of a rocky mesa with boulders to climb around on. I spotted one woman sitting in mediation on one of the higher boulders who I had seen at the parking lot. And as we came up over the ridge, there was the man with the wild grey curls. “Welcome!” he said with a smile, and I replied with thanks.
There’s something about being greeted at a summit with someone saying “Welcome” that adds to the magic of the moment.
We walked on to the edge of the boulders. I could see on the app that this wasn’t the end of the trail. So we took some photos and headed into the shrubbery (no human-shaped hole to lead us). We finally came to the bench: the end point that is Angel’s Rest.
There’s something about being greeted at a summit with someone saying “Welcome” that adds to the magic of the moment.
We walked on to the edge of the boulders. I could see on the app that this wasn’t the end of the trail. So we took some photos and headed into the shrubbery (no human-shaped hole to lead us). We finally came to the bench: the end point that is Angel’s Rest.
We sat for a spell, looking over the Columbia River Gorge and to Washington State. There are no states in Nature, no countries, no municipalities. All is one.
It appeared that there was a trail behind us, so Tucker and I ventured further than the little red line on the app told us to go.
It seemed we’d have to bushwhack through some rather defensive shrubs, so I called off the trek. On our way back, the man with the curly hair was headed our way.
“Is there a way back down through there?” he asked.
“I don’t see how it’s possible. Although someone mentioned there was another way by climbing up the hill from the boulder filed, so I imagine it gets you here.”
“That’s what I was told too, but I’m not seeing it. But it’s supposed to be a shortcut.”
“I don’t hike for the shortcuts,” I responded with a smile. “I hike to see and walk every inch of the journey!”
As he headed into the violent shrubs, Tuck and I walked back to the edge to imbue the vista into our souls before heading back down—the long way around.
“Is there a way back down through there?” he asked.
“I don’t see how it’s possible. Although someone mentioned there was another way by climbing up the hill from the boulder filed, so I imagine it gets you here.”
“That’s what I was told too, but I’m not seeing it. But it’s supposed to be a shortcut.”
“I don’t hike for the shortcuts,” I responded with a smile. “I hike to see and walk every inch of the journey!”
As he headed into the violent shrubs, Tuck and I walked back to the edge to imbue the vista into our souls before heading back down—the long way around.
As we got to the boulder field again, the curly-haired man had caught up. We discussed where one might see this supposed trail upwards rather than through the “human-shaped hole”. We thought we spied the make-shift rail, where the smaller rocks had fallen away and it appeared a little more traversed. It looked mighty dangerous going up the steep incline. But he was up for it. As he leaned into the incline and started heading upward to the area without rocks, I yelled out, “Don’t die!”
To which he responded, “That’s my usual goal. So far, so good!”
Tucker and I continued downhill, leaving the man to his own adventures.
To which he responded, “That’s my usual goal. So far, so good!”
Tucker and I continued downhill, leaving the man to his own adventures.
Hiking is a lot like reading books. Despite being in the same place, each of our experiences are unique to us, and how we interpret them might be radically different. Yet, when we find one another on the same trail, as when we find someone who has read the same book as us, there is a connection. There’s an ease between us. I always know avid hikers compared to the tourists or first-timers as the avid hikers smile and say “Hello” when you cross their paths. They may even give words of advice, much like someone who has read a book will tell you, “Oh, no spoilers, but Chapter 11—WOW!”
And in this case they even greet you with a “Welcome”.
Angel’s Rest is one of my favorite hikes, and while I probably won’t do it again while I’m here this time, I will revisit it. Like a well-stocked library of books, Oregon has a plethora of trails to explore, and I want to visit every one before I start to reread the classics.
And in this case they even greet you with a “Welcome”.
Angel’s Rest is one of my favorite hikes, and while I probably won’t do it again while I’m here this time, I will revisit it. Like a well-stocked library of books, Oregon has a plethora of trails to explore, and I want to visit every one before I start to reread the classics.
RSS Feed