Smith Rock: Hiking in a Heatwave
It wasn’t until earlier this month that I learned one of our neighbors in Terrebonne is a movie star.
I recall my dad telling me about seeing it in some of his old-timey western movies, but nothing recent and certainly nothing starring actors like Kevin Costner and Reese Witherspoon. And yet, there on a plaque I read while listening to my sister puke was a list of contemporary films shot on location at Smith Rock State Park, including The Postman in 2000 and, more recently, 2014’s Wild. (No, Smith Rock isn’t on the Pacific Coast Trail, but Hollywood has never been a stickler for accuracy.)
The Oregon state park is by distance less than a mile from the house we purchased once my parents both passed. But the drive takes about 10 minutes because of less direct roads and speed limits. Still, its presence is huge – for the town and for me personally. I came here regularly to heal from some pretty traumatic events. Yet the place triggers only good feelings, maybe because of its therapeutic impact.
That’s why I make a point to visit every time we fly or drive up to visit family and take care of house business. This month was no exception, even if the weather was exceptional. It was between 101 and 107 degrees Fahrenheit that entire week we were there, with overnight temps in the mucky 70s and low 80s. That’s unusual for the high desert, which usually sees sharp declines once it’s dark and days, not weeks, of furnace-like heat.
Still, I let everyone know we were going to hike one of the trails and, as a concession, it wouldn’t be Misery Ridge. That’s the really hard trail in the photo above. It lives up to its name not just in elevation and grade but a heart-stopping descent with loose soil and no barrier should you lose your balance and fall to your death (sadly, it happens more often than it should).
Getting there
Driving, you take Smith Rock Way off Highway 97 in Terrebonne and turn left at a sign (this is 1st Ave., which becomes NE Wilcox Ave.) just after what locals call The Pumpkin Patch. Right now, it’s an alfalfa and corn field. Eventually you’ll see a brown state park sign to signal a left turn onto Crooked River Drive. That road leads to the park, which includes a campground, bathrooms, mini climbing rock for little ones, kiosk to pay for parking (if you don’t have a state parks placard), and parking spots. All are on your left.
If you end up parking all the way down at the road’s end (there are houses on your right), be sure to bring binoculars and check out the enormous golden eagle nests cliffside. Just look for white patches that represent generations of bird poop and the nests will be nearby.
A lot of people are content to walk around the rim and take in the entirety of Smith Rock. We are the type to head down to explore. Well, my husband and I are, anyway.
Getting down
You must go down to reach the main trails. I repeat: You must hike down, which means you also will come back up and hit the hardest part at the very end of your journey. Hikers (and climbers) have two choices: The Chute, which is steeper but shorter, or beginning of The Canyon Trail, which is longer but shallower.
Have hiking shoes and poles to do The Chute, which is more popular because first timers don’t realize there’s a gentler alternative. Both trails will take you to a green patch and narrow bridge (single file only!).
Getting around
Once across the wooden bridge, you have three choices: left on the River Trail; straight ahead for Misery Ridge Trail; or right to the Wolf Tree Trail. Most people go left, where the trail is flat, often covered by trees and providing access and views of rock climbers. The aforementioned (and recommended) Canyon Trail also parallels the Crooked River from the other side and will take you to Rope-de-Dope, a giant granite cube for those just starting out in rock climbing. Beyond that site the trail is not as well traveled and, therefore, not as well maintained. Still, back in the day, when my mood called for solitude, the deeper portion of Canyon Trail was my go-to.
This time I recommended we take the Wolf Tree Trail since I’d never gone far on it. Until you hit the namesake tree, the trail is exposed. But it’s flat and offers exceptional views and far fewer people. Beyond this ginormous Ponderosa pine with branches thicker than any palm tree I’ve seen, there is a raptor nesting area that, if you’re lucky, will have some activity – hawks and eagles on the hunt for food for their young. It was closed to rock climbers when we were there. The trail eventually connects to other trails on the backside of the park.
Or so we were told. We never made it that far because three of the five of us were out of shape and pretending they weren’t. Flushed, sweaty faces. Heavy breathing. Cursing under breaths. The rising temps were taking a toll.
Did I mention the hardest part is at the end of all trails? It’s like hiking the Grand Canyon, like a mountain climb in reverse. But less than a mile uphill, not 10. One of those complaining abandoned us to walk as fast as he could to get it over with (then lorded his “first place finish” over the others for the next two days). The other two requested frequent stops and refused our waters. I’ve been in their shoes, so I said little, other than “almost there” whenever we made some progress.
Once we were level, one of my sisters – the one who forgot to eat and drink anything ahead of time -- said she didn’t feel well and went around an enclosed structure to throw up. That’s when I noticed the Oregon Film Trail plaque and wondered if Reese Witherspoon would have been so stupid. Afterall, I read the memoir the movie is based on, and that was a big point of it: author Cheryl Strayed (a symbolic surname she made up) was ill prepared to through-hike the PCT and made a lot of rookie mistakes before finding her footing.
My sisters are no Cheryl Strayed. Or Reese Witherspoon, for that matter.
