The Flyswatter Chronicles (snowy version added Feb 2017)

[Chip Down]

Three day trips exploring the Flyswatter area. Names have been changed because I know some people want some of this to be semi-secret, even though it's right there where people (like me) can stumble right into it.

Warning: It's a Sunday, and I have nothing better to do, so this three-trip report will be looooong.

I've been wanting to take a stab at the infamous Ridge of America route, but wanted to wait until I knew it would be snow free. If I'd known routefinding was so easy, I might have gone sooner. Yeah, the upper loop would have been tricky, but the well-defined ridge portion would have been fun. (incidentally, also wanted to do Punra Moint in full winter conditions on my first attempt, but it's so low, and I didn't want to do it with just a couple inches of snow/ice, which would be super scary)

DAY ONE: DISTRACTED BY JOLLY RANCHER WAY AND LOWER FLYSWATTER RIDGE

On a warm sunny spring day, I headed up from Flyswatter Falls at dawn. A few minutes later, at Little (upper) Flyswatter Falls, I was distracted by a social trail on the other side, leading down to the creek. Didn't want to go there later when it was crowded, so continued on the main trail to loop behind the 'swatter over to the west side, and enjoyed the view at the bottom of the social trail. Back on the main trail, I noticed an outrageously steep "trail" going right up a gully. Hmmm. Didn't want to mess with that when the flip-flop crowd was around, and also from the standpoint of efficiency it was better to do it right then, since I was there. Weighed my options, thought about it too much, then just did it. I figured it just went to the top of Little Flyswatter Falls, or to a viewpoint. Came back down hours later! What fun!

The gully was easier than expected, due to lots of little handholds that exceeded my expectations. At the top was a fork to the right/west that ascended steeply at the edge of a cliff. Kinda unnerving. Maybe later, but to start out I stayed left and followed the lower trail. It was littered with Jolly Rancher wrappers, so I decided to call it Jolly Rancher Way, for lack of a better name (hereafter JR).

JR was steep and rugged, but no big deal, no worse than countless other gorge trails. Blowdown and slides were minimal, but so was the scenery. I could hear, and barely see, Flyswatter Creek to the left/east, but I hoped this trail went somewhere better. It did.

Eventually, I lost the trail rather abruptly when it rejoined Flyswatter Creek. There was a charming rocky mossy island with a half dozen trees. Lovely. There was even a downed log in a convenient place to cross. I knew I needed to get back there, but first I wanted to find the trail. Circled around a bit to no avail. Decided to hoof it XC. Follow the creek, or up a little ridge parallel? Decided on the ridge. Shortly, spotted a possible trail. Went to investigate. Yep, that's a trail, presumably JR. Followed it down to see how I missed it below. At the spot where it met my track, I could see how I missed it. It looked more like a spur trail than main trail.

Before continuing up JR, I went back to visit that island. Oh, hey, that log bridge is either placed by humans, or enhanced by humans. Somebody put some work into this. But wait, there's more: Out on the island, I saw another bridge continuing eastish! It was hidden behind one of the trees when viewed from the west bank of Flyswatter Creek! What a cool bonus. Decided to continue this way, vowing to get back later to follow that spur trail that went up the west side of Flyswatter.

Past the island, I saw more signs of people: A "trail" sign, details lost to the moss and decay. Told it used to say something like Malkovitch Trail, but details are sparse. A firepit or two. A huge blaze with a mysterious little RP carved into the wood. The trail cris-crossed a small tributary of Flyswatter, up to the top of a set of brushy cascades, then cut diagonally up a slope to a ridge which offered a fun steep ascent directly up the bouldery crest. It wasn't steep enough to be considered adventurous or exciting, but it was more fun than a series of dirt switchbacks.

I reached an unmarked junction with another trail. It too came right up a ridgecrest, although I could see some short tight switchbacks below. JR was blocked with a handful of branches, as if to say to travelers on the other trail "this isn't the way". It was kinda subtle though. I have no doubt that some users on that trail walk right past without noticing JR.

I surmised that this new trail must be Ridge of America, and I followed it up until it flattened out, soon meeting the official Flyswatter Creek Trail sign, at which point I was even more certain I'd been following ROA. Funny that the primary trail was marked, but not the ROA trail. It's weird, because the USFS is acknowledging the existence of that junction, but failing to fully ID it. Seems like they'd either fully ID the junction, or refuse to acknowledge it. I can sort of see the logic to their thinking, but it seems more in keeping with their philosophy to just put a "trail not maintained" sign on ROA.

Turned right on Flyswatter and gently descended to the three forks. First one was just a muddy little creek, disappointing, but I eventually learned it's not one of the three, probably seasonal. The next one was verdant, and a huge mossy log parallel to the creek served as my lunch counter. A pair was there, filtering, one of only two parties I would see all day above Flyswatter Falls.

After lunch, I turned and repeated my route, encountering a group of maybe a half dozen ascending the Romance of Argentina. They were surprised, I was surprised, we were all surprised. I guess they were more surprised though, since I heard them from a distance, whereas they only knew I was there when I was right in front of them. I asked if I was on Ratchet of Avoidance, and got confirmation. I was warned it's very difficult, but I explained I was taking JR down, following my ascent route. Was asked if I saw the cabin. Nope. She mentioned a name, a guy well known for a botanical book, "flowers of the gorge" or something. I see it's mentioned in a couple trip reports. Funny, when I reached that spur trail down by the duo-bridge island, it took me to a dilapidated shelter, roof collapsed, rotting away. Aha, found it! But no, it's Steve's Shelter, says the wooden sign. That's not the name I was expecting, so there must be at least one more up here. I chuckled thinking about how close I came to finding the shelter and turning back in the morning. If I hadn't gone out to that island in Flyswatter Creek and discovered the other bridge, I would have assumed JR just went to Steve's Shelter, and I would have turned back. Of course, then I would have discovered my error when reading TRs, so I'd have to go back again (not that it wouldn't be fun to go back again). I wandered around for any other signs of humanity (trail, outhouse, whatever). All I found was a 5-gal pickle bucket.

I was maybe 1:30 from TH, but still early in the day. Follow Flyswatter creek up? To the trail? No, could take hours, terrain unknown. Oh, down to the top of Upper Flyswatter Falls, perfect. Started out fun: verdant, not too steep. Slightly challenging, but just in a nice interesting way. Steepened, hit slides, blowdown, brush. Terrible. An hour below the island I gave up. I knew if I headed west I should hit JR trail that runs parallel to the creek, but could it be on the other side of that ridge? Hmmm. Unlikely, but better play it safe and go back up to the island, then take the trail down. When I was back on trail looking down into that canyon, I was glad I had given up. It was steep and brushy down there. Would have been miserable. Even if I made it, getting back up to the trail would have been awful (although I now realize it's easy to manage the corresponding exit on the east side, if you can get across the creek).

Nearing the main trail, with the adventure almost over but daylight remaining, I explored the labyrinth of social trails upslope in the final 1/4 mile of JR. Ugh, super steep, fading in and out, never knew which way was best. Painful. Finally hit a easy traverse trail near the top of the ridge heading north. Open, nice view to the east. Then the ridgecrest, where I could comfortable drop my pack and sit for a bit, then continued packless up the easy trail southward until I hit a ... holy crap, look at that ... a big-ass arch in a rocky prominence. My jaw dropped, and when I recovered, I muttered things I wouldn't want my mother to hear. I was stunned. It was so crisp and rectangular, as if it had been blasted. It looked like the trail went through it, but sadly, no, deadend. This was a good place to turn back, but I had to know if there was more above, so I traversed around this rock on a bushwhack that seemed unlikely to yield anything good. When I regained the ridgecrest, it was delightful, mossy and clear and easy traveling. I couldn't turn down such a polite invitation, so I continued up the ridge a ways until I was convinced I wanted to come back (it was about 6:30, so not today). On the way back down to the end of the ridgecrest where I left my pack, I encountered what I figured was poison oak. Snapped a pic and confirmed later. Damn. Let's see, it's been 6 days now, so I guess I'm okay. I've never had a reaction. Maybe I'm immune.

DAY TWO: FLYSWATTER RIDGE UP, JOLLY RANCHER WAY DOWN

For the first time in 30 years, I had a hiking partner, a friend who had been asking to join me. I warned him it would be tough, carried most of the weight, provided a pole for him, went slow and easy, stayed ahead to watch for best routes when it got tricky...should turn out fine.

Started out the same as day one, but shortly above the chute leading from the main flipflop trail we veered right and found a good route to the ridgecrest. It was partly memory, partly luck, and it went much better this time, mostly because we stayed on JR to gain elevation going south until a stable rockslide offered easy ascent, and then worked our way north to catch the traversing trail. As we approached the arch, I watched my partner to catch his reaction when he saw it. It didn't disappoint. Later, he told me it was the highlight of his day. I wish now we had left it at that, because the day didn't end well for him (and for me, by association).

Above the arch, I never really knew for sure where my previous turnaround point was. I knew this was a viable route, because I had researched the day before. We followed the well-defined crest. It got a little fuzzy in spots where the ridge faded out, but never to the point that I was worried about veering off route if we had to descend this way. Eventually though, the ridge faded into the hillside, and then everything went almost-flat. From the map, and from TRs here, I knew the primary mistake was to go too far south/east. The Flyswatter Creek Trail is just to the right, through the woods. But was I too low to veer right? If so, I'd be in for quite an adventure looking for the trail. Better to continue south until it got unbearably brushy and then veer right. I dropped my pack, left my partner behind, and flagged a route. I was being extremely cautious. Even though I had great info telling me what to do, assuring me the trail was nearby, I never go forward without an escape route. It's like rappelling and then pulling your rope down. If you aren't 100% positive you can keep rapping down after your first pitch, you can get stuck. So with extreme caution, I fanned out over and over, gathering my flags on the way back (partly as a courtesy to other travelers, and also so I didn't get confused). I was very close to giving up when I saw what looked like a blade-cut branch, and that gave me the confidence to investigate a little more...and there it was, a long narrow depressed strip of dirt cutting through the brush, as far as I could see in both directions. Eureka!

Went back to retrieve my pack and partner, and continued up the Flyswatter Creek Trail. I knew there was a junction nearby. What is it, Liberty Creek Trail or something like that. But were we already above that junction? Probably not. On the way, encountered a downed tree, and discussed options. I said left, he said right. I clambered over and investigated. Hmm, no trail. Circled wide and found it, shouted back, we continued. A bit later, I said "hey, wait...it's unlikely, but what if that tree fell right at the junction...are we sure we didn't end up on Liberty?" I was pleased with myself for thinking of that. While my partner waited, I ran up the trail in hopes of finding Liberty junction, at which point I'd run back until I was in shouting distance. I didn't know how far I'd go before giving up. What if I didn't hit the junction? Would that mean we were on Liberty, or would it mean we hit Flyswatter above the Liberty junction? Crap. I hoped for the best, hoped I'd encounter Liberty junction soon. Ha! It was like 40 yards later, and I shouted back down, and we were on our way. Crossed the three forks, and the ugly fourth, and turned left at the Round of Absinthe junction to descend the Ridge of Aardvark trail.

Before it even got steep, my partner complained of knee pain. It got much worse very quickly, and by the time we reached (and nearly passed!) the JR cutoff, he was using both poles (I had brought one for each), and I was offering advil, and carrying all the weight, staying ahead to scout the best possible descent, providing rope for the steepest and rockiest stretches. But it was too little too late. The damage was done, and it was soon apparent that we were in for an ordeal. We were constantly checking the time, worried about being caught in the dark. I was fully prepared for that, but his descent would be that much trickier. I started to wonder about evacuation. It occurred to me that a place like this is probably harder for a medical evacuation than the summit of hood would be (no aircraft options, no phone reception, no roads or good trails nearby, no smooth snowy slopes). Slowly, we picked our way down the trail. Creek crossings were a bitch, as were slides and scramble zones. As we neared Flyswatter Creek, I watched for possible shelter sites (not for us, I mean I kept an eye out for the old cabin I knew was nearby). Finally, the descent down the gully at the bottom of JR, and the last 1/2 mile or so to the TH, arriving after sunset, but with no need for headlamps.

DAY THREE: FINALLY GOT TO MY ORIGINAL PLAN FOR DAY 1, "RETURN ON ASSETS" AND "SATAN'S SPINE"

Started out from Flyswatter Falls TH at dawn, and found the Rugelach of Amsterdam trail at the distinctive tree that I had a screenshot of. I knew exactly where it was, because I researched and scouted a week ago, traveling the first few yards just to be sure. But now I chuckle at that. There's no trail here. It's a maze of bullshit, and no matter how hard you try to be responsible and stay on route, it's probably not possible. Would be a fun project to build a schematic of the "trails", then add notes regarding condition and pitch of the various sections, and then put together a plan for what the "official" route should be. I wonder if multiple teams would reach a consensus. Anyhoo, I reached the arch sooner than expected, and found it to be smaller than expected. Combined with the annoying trail situation, I was a bit disappointed in the whole experience.

I set off for Satan's Spine, which was actually my main anxiety for the day. I'm very nervous about razor-sharp ridgecrests with fatal exposure. Turns out it was easier than expected, and there's a parallel trail for the timid, so I needn't have worried. It was a nice spot, but like the arch, it was smaller and less dramatic than I'd expected. I was picturing something awesome, and what I got was something neat. But neat is still worthwhile. From there, I watched for the trail split, with one side deadending at a viewpoint to the right. Didn't see it. Backtracked and looked again. Supposed to be right at the top of Satan's Spine, with views to Mt YeeHaw and St Dick. Nothing. Not even any indication there could be a viewpoint over there. Well, whatever, I've heard it's not that great anyway, so up the main trail I went.

Trail got much much better above Satan's Spine. Straight up a well-defined semi-bouldery ridge, with sparse forest that allowed a bit of a view but no sun. The OH guide says it undulates, but that's a stretch. It's almost entirely uphill. But it's pleasant, more than just a trail to suffer on as you get to your next goal. I wish the trail from Flyswatter Falls to the arch was this nice. I knew there were switchbacks near the Jolly Rancher Way junction, but even with that tip I nearly passed it. No big deal, if I had gone too far there's a very distinctive outcropping just past JR on the Regulation of Attendance trail.

Although I was prepared to descend JR if necessary, the way I came wasn't nearly as difficult as I feared. I dreaded the below-arch section, but looked forward to the nice ridgecrest above the spine. On the way down, I spotted a steep rocky spur ridge and followed it down until it dropped so steeply that it wasn't worth it anymore. I knew it would end somewhere down in the Flyswatter Creek area, which I could hear (or a tributary perhaps). To get back to the RoA trail I traversed east and north, rather than ascending back up to the ridgecrest where I dropped down.

At Satan's Spine, I encountered a couple who were on their way to complete a big loop up to Flyswatter Creek Trail and down that trail that I never remember the name of, something weird like Threeonta I think. You know the one, right? I wondered if they knew they were going to pass two opportunities to follow shorter loops that were more along the lines of what they were presently on. Probably for the best though. They both require a descent of Jolly Gully, and I wouldn't advise that for somebody who hadn't even seen it yet. If I got to the top of that and realized I had no choice but to go down it, I might wet myself.

There was plenty of mossy semi-flat ground here at the high end of Satan's Spine, some sun and some shade, nice views, so even though it was breezy, I took my longest break of the day here, and enjoyed a beer, because what's the point of a descent from the arch if you're not a little buzzed? I jest, of course. That's like drinking before an IRS audit. Why spoil a good buzz on something so unpleasant? [I really did have a beer, and although it was 12%abv (coincidentally the same as my last two trail beers), it was a dainty 8oz can, so not enough to compromise my safety] I inadvertently kicked a rock over as I enjoyed lunch, unleashing a swarm of big-ass ants. Stood, brushed, whimpered like a little girl, and moved all my stuff to a new spot, careful not to upset any more rocks.

After another trip to the arch to dig through the geochaches (disappointing, but the logbook was neat, although awfully cliched) I started down the maze of trails, trying to stick to the main routes, which took me through some tough rootballs/blowdown. Reached a mystery side trail which I followed a bit to the east. I wondered if maybe it was the lower end of Enigma Trail, but it seems the top of that route is better documented than the bottom (not surprising, considering folks generally travel it down). It faded at a rabble/slide area. I was tempted to go up, but it was extremely unstable, like a sand dune but scary. It was littered with bones, so I'm calling it...ummm...abattoir alley. Or wait, maybe carcass couloir. Anyway, I wasn't going to fight my way up this thing. Angle wasn't bad, and it looked easy, but everywhere I stepped it started a mini slide. So back the way I came. But wait...is that a trail down below? 400? Hmm. Gotta be. Hey, look, do I see tourists? So down I went. I couldn't see the entire route, but I was confident I'd encounter no hardships. Heck, even if there was a mini cliff down there, there were plenty of trees, and I was packing 40'. I was below the unstable area, in more of a dirt gully, so I was surprised when a little slide preceded me. I shouted "rock, rock", which was followed by a faceless "thanks!" As you can imagine, I felt really bad about that. Moved over to the side, where it was brushy and not as fun, but safer for those below. By a miracle, I emerged right at the junction with #400. I've had really good luck that way lately.

FOLLOW UP PLANS
I feel compelled to descend Flyswatter ridge, just to see it going the other way. Also, now that I know exactly how to find Flyswatter Creek Trail from the area where Flyswatter Ridge fades out and flattens, I feel a strange compulsion to go explore, trying to find the best possible route, and discovering how bad it gets if bad route decisions are made. That's a bit neurotic though. And I want to clean up my sloppy trail tape that I left, just splattered everywhere, in the careless way you do when it's just for a couple hours. I wouldn't feel bad if it was carefully placed along the best possible route, but it looks like I just spewed trail tape as I stumbled through the woods, like a drunken fratboy vomiting his way across the quad at 3am. Anyway, it's paper, so not quite as noxious as poly streamers.
Oh, and if I have a convenient opportunity, I might look for Flowerman's cabin again.

Too many pics to post. Here are a few.

edit: Looking at the arch pic juxtaposed with the pillar pic, it's striking how similar the rock looks, as if it was all in the same area, but those sites are on two different ridges, running parallel, with Flyswatter Creek running between them.

[Bosterson]

Clever re-names. I may have to appropriate them for future discussions on here.

JR was blocked with a handful of branches, as if to say to travelers on the other trail "this isn't the way". It was kinda subtle though. I have no doubt that some users on that trail walk right past without noticing JR.

Ben and I covered that junction with branches we found lying around the last time we were up there. As you note, you wouldn't want someone to go down that trail who doesn't know what they're getting into, and with all the crowds converging on the Ridge of America these days, it seemed prudent to keep people from accidentally ending up lost on Jolly Rancher (which has happened and has been TR'd here). BTW, the trail going up the hill to Ridge of America from Jolly Rancher is actually the Malkovich trail.

There's no trail here. It's a maze of bullshit, and no matter how hard you try to be responsible and stay on route, it's probably not possible.

It is now, but it used to be a single trail from the top of Little Flyswatter Falls (with some braiding and side paths out to the arch) before it was destroyed by the recent winter storms. The current situation down there is pretty bad, because rather than people taking a single "best" route around all the rootballs and downed trees, there are a million new eroding paths heading every which way up that hill. Note that after the Spine of Satan, that nonsense stops and it becomes a normal "trail."

Surprised you and your friend continued down Jolly Rancher with his knee in bad shape. Descending the normal Flyswatter Creek trail is longer but much easier, even if you had to backtrack uphill to the junction. And descending Ridge of America never makes your knees feel good.

[Koda]

I think this type of TR is a creative way of sharing the adventure responsibly by leaving no trace virtually. Well done Chip Down

[RobinB]

As usual, just a fantastic TR. And I propose that we all call it Ridge of America for now on.

[Chip Down]

"Ben and I covered that junction with branches we found lying around the last time we were up there."
Oh, how interesting to observe something and then find out who did it. Really makes a guy aware of what a tight-knit community it is.

"...you wouldn't want someone to go down that trail who doesn't know what they're getting into, and with all the crowds converging on the Ridge of America these days, it seemed prudent to keep people from accidentally ending up lost on Jolly Rancher (which has happened and has been TR'd here)."
Strange. The trail is pretty clear, at least it is now, and it dumps right down on the main trail. And it follows a creek that ends up at a touristy set of falls. Hard to imagine getting lost. Of course, there are people who get lost when they hike up to the top of Multnomah, so I guess there's no such thing as a risk-free trail.

"Surprised you and your friend continued down Jolly Rancher with his knee in bad shape. Descending the normal Flyswatter Creek trail is longer but much easier, even if you had to backtrack uphill to the junction. And descending Ridge of America never makes your knees feel good."
I suppose if some specific abrupt condition occurred, one might evaluate options. But a knee problem, in absence of a specific traumatic injury, is a little different. Do you turn back at the first sign of distress? By the time it became a serious problem, it was probably too late to prudently turn back. Besides, returning to the official maintained trail would have meant traveling unknown terrain w/o map. I know in theory you just stay right at every junction, but I also know there's at least one tricky stream crossing, with a weird off-trail bridge, if I understand the situation correctly. In retrospect, I wish I had turned back at the top of Flyswatter ridge. Recognizing how tired he was, I was careful to let him know what was ahead, so he'd be an informed participant. But maybe I should have made the decision to turn back. Better yet, a loop up Regurgitation of Antithesis and down Jolly Rancher would have been a good intro for a newbie. It was only later, looking at Lurch's map, that I realized it would have been maybe half the distance we traveled, and less elevation to boot (although stats can be hard to judge from an oblique GE image).

"leaving no trace virtually"
There's an interesting way of expressing it. Not a new concept, but the wording is something I hadn't considered.

"As usual, just a fantastic TR."
Awww, how sweet. Thanks.

[miah66]

lol @ "Malkovich Trail".

Malkovich Malkovich...

[bobcat]

a big-ass arch in a rocky prominence

It has always intrigued me that this one has a beaten path up to it (on a fragile, steep, mossy slope) off of the Merry Botanizer's footpath even though, unlike the Romance of Argentina's double annulus, it does not appear in any guidebook, geological paper, or even the humble Field Guide . . .

[Chip Down]

Forecast was soggy, so I wanted a quick easy hike that didn't offer views. Decided to go back to finish up the Flyswatter. I wrote above:

I feel compelled to descend Flyswatter ridge, just to see it going the other way. Also, now that I know exactly how to find Flyswatter Creek Trail from the area where Flyswatter Ridge fades out and flattens, I feel a strange compulsion to go explore, trying to find the best possible route, and discovering how bad it gets if bad route decisions are made. That's a bit neurotic though. And I want to clean up my sloppy trail tape that I left, just splattered everywhere, in the careless way you do when it's just for a couple hours. I wouldn't feel bad if it was carefully placed along the best possible route, but it looks like I just spewed trail tape as I stumbled through the woods, like a drunken fratboy vomiting his way across the quad at 3am.

Set off from the trailhead (first one west of Flyswatter Falls) unusually late, at 8:40, because weather was supposed to get better as the day went on. Everything was dry, so I had reason to believe I lucked out and it would be dry all day. Still, played it safe and carried the bare minimum, packed to avoid water damage. TH was busy, almost crowded.

There was a notice posted. Trail washed out 1.5 mi ahead. Drat. Weather was no longer my anxiety of the day. I strolled up the trail, exploring all the little side trails and viewpoints. At the slide, I thought "can that be it, or is there a bigger one ahead"? Decided this was probably what the sign referred to. It was no big deal. Just walked around it, smiling, humming "don't worry, be happy".

I'd started eschewing all the little social trails to the right, down to the creek. None were interesting, so I didn't bother any more. But at a bridge crossing back over to the west side of the creek, there was an enticing trail to the left/east. Branches were tossed across it. I followed (10:30 am), and discovered it was once maintained. This wasn't a social trail. Before long, it switchbacked to the north, and east. This went on for quite some time, and I started to wonder if it was Flyswatter Creek Trail, although my map didn't show it started at that bridge. I liked the mystery, the uncertainty, wondering what trail I was on. I felt like I had discovered a lost trail, even though I knew that wasn't really possible.

At 11:30 I took a short spur to a rocky viewpoint with a great view of...well, mostly just clouds and trees. After that, loads of switchbacks, which should have tipped me off that I was getting close to that section of Flyswatter Creek Trail where it flattens out before Liberty Creek Trail. Sure enough, I soon reached a familiar downed tree mentioned in my earlier report, and then the Liberty junction at noon, where I heard, and then saw, a big party of very loud hikers. I think I had heard them on the switchbacks, where their straight-line distance from me was short, even though a lot of trail separated us.

Turned back at the junction and descended Flyswatter Creek Trail looking for the trail tape I left last time. Nothing. Went all the way to the highest switchback, and came back looking for the first opportunity to go looking for Flyswatter Ridge. Another large party passed by, going downhill. One asked how far it was to the bottom. How the heck should I know? Anyway, headed towards Flyswatter Ridge and planted my first yellow tape, and then was surprised to spot my red tape from last trip. Wow. That means on my last trip, I very nearly went too far north and missed the switchback, which means I could have bushwhacked for a very long time without finding the trail. I headed to the ridge, cleaning up my old tape on the way.

At the top/end of the ridge, I considered exploring above, looking for more alternate routes from end-of-ridge to trail. Lost interest though, partly because my trips back and forth on that trail (partly looking for my tape, and partly examining route options) made me realize how long of a bushwhack I might be setting myself up for. So I headed down at a leisurely pace, enjoying the scenery.

At 1:30 I lost the route. The ridge crest dropped off at a rocky outcropping and veered left/west, but there was no sign of a boot track, and the ridge didn't look familiar. It looked like a spot that I identified as a possible descent problem when I was here last. I struggled to find the trail, wandering around the hillside, flagging my route so I wouldn't get lost. Finally found something that resembled a trail. Followed it down until I was certain I was on Flyswatter Ridge (3:30). Then I headed back up to ascertain where/how I lost the trail, and to clean up my flagging.

Back down again, eyeing a nice mossy ridge across the valley to the east. Looked narrow, but essentially level. Looked like a worthy goal. Thought about what trails over that way might take me close. Oh, duh, it's Satan's Spine, already been there. Cool to see it from this perspective.

Finally to the traverse on the west side of the ridge, a little above the arch. Worst part of the day. Unstable and slippery. Ducked under the grotto for a break (5:30 - 6:00), and it started raining harder than it had all day. Great timing. Sat on a nice dry mossy rock and watched it rain.

Reached Jolly Gully, which was a nightmare (it's slightly unnerving under ideal dry conditions). At 7:00 I reached trail 400 and headed off to hike a nice maintained trail to my car. More side trips and viewpoints than expected. Passed a memorial plaque for a guy who fell off a cliff. Didn't think much of it until I noticed he was just 14. Damn, tragic. Poor kid.

Reached my lonely car at 8:00 with just enough light remaining to get cleaned up and changed before dark. Funny, I hadn't even been thinking about sunset. Guess I was still operating under the mindset that this was a quick easy hike. Amazing how little food I took. By the time I hit civilization, I was so hungry I settled for the Troutdale Arby's.

This was one of those rare trips where I took everything I needed, and used everything I took. If I piled up everything I took but didn't need, it might add up to to a pound or two.

[Eric Peterson]

Steven Shelter has really gone down hill fast, not much longer until it's like Gorge Rats Cabin!

[Chip Down]

This time I went back to the gully just east of RoA to see if was safer as a snow hike. It was, huge improvement. Passed a fresh deer carcass, torn open and bloody. Abattoir Alley was living up to its name. There were a few sketchy moments on the snow, but none were as bad as the wet drippy mossy exit chimney out of that gully.

Hit the trail, explored down a bit, then up to Satan's Spine. Spotted an interesting objective up to the east. Headed up RoA trail until I hit a faint brushy spur ridge on my left. Took it, and found myself at a clear saddle, up the other side, to a semi-clear summit with a bare mossy landing just below the top, where I fought the wind and scanned for other possible explorations to the east.

Too windy to hang out here, so returned to RoA trail and continued up to the junction with the Jolly Rancher (aka StolenDomain) trail. Tried to follow it down, partly relying on memory because it was mostly buried, but didn't go well, so just followed my gut. Found the rotten mossy trail sign bolted to a tree, at a creek that cascades down to join Flyswatter Creek. From here I knew I had it made. Worked my way down to Flyswatter, looking for the island with two bridges. Never found it! Maybe I just needed to keep going downstream more, but when I reached a fairly straight section and didn't see an island downstream, I gave up. I tried following this creek once, last spring, and it got a lot tougher than you'd think. Possibly I could have found a way across Flyswatter and gone looking for Stephen's shelter, which would have provided a good landmark, but I wasn't sure it was worth the effort at that point.

Took a chance on a lower traverse back to RoA ridge, so I wouldn't have to go all the way up to the junction and back down. Worked out well.

If you've hiked the RoA trail from Satan's Spine to the Jolly/stolendomain trail, you might remember a particularly prominent rocky outcropping. That was the best opportunity to sit down on bare ground with a windbreak, so I gorged myself there before continuing.

Back at the main Flyswatter trail, I passed behind the falls, and ascended the steepish slope leading to JollyRancher Gully. Rounded the corner to enter it and was crushed when I saw it was mostly melted out. Last time I saw it, it was filled with snow, but I didn't go up because freezing rain was on the way, and I had to get back home soon. Looks like I missed my chance. Okay then, I climbed up the muddy gully. At the top, I followed the first trail to the right, along the cliff edge. It had spooked me before, but I was less timid today. Arrived at a lovely mossy/snowy/rocky viewpoint that would be a fantastic place to linger, but not on a February day when you can't even set anything down for fear of it going all Dorothy on you. Continued up until the trail hit a nearly-vertical step, which was scary going up, terrifying coming back down. Above the step, the trail was clear for a few yards, but dead ended at a cliff that I would never consider scaling, even on a good day. So back down I went.

Wanted to follow JollyRancher Trail and see if I could find the Flyswatter island, but time was short. Instead I decided to see if I could get to the arch (not the RoA arch, we're on the west side of Flyswatter now, pay attention) directly from below, straight up the slope. Easier than expected. I was shocked at how simple it was. Descended by what I consider to be the standard route from the arch: followed the crest of Flyswatter Ridge to the north until it drops steeply, then switchback and traverse a grassy slope, heading south, then drop down a talus slope to the Jolly Rancher trail.

I think I had GPS in my pack. I wish I had checked my location where I gave up looking for the island, and at the viewpoint I discovered east of the RoA trail (I think I know where I was, but not completely certain).

Two sets of pics will follow.