Solo Backpacking Trip Report: Collins Gulf

Car problems and two false starts resulting in U-turns home to retrieve forgotten items had this trip on life support from the beginning. The third time is a charm, and once I actually made it out of the city the odds for survival began to improve. The early fumbles, however, meant I didn't set foot on the trail until 11:45, or about 2 hours later than originally planned.

The trail experience was worth the wait and, as it turned out, the delays didn't affect the hike. From the Collins West access, I headed east, opting to hike the loop counterclockwise. Descending into the gulf across a boulder field, I flashed back to last December's trek across the Connector Trail, in which the hiker is unmercifully tormented by the rocky slope that just won't quit as he approaches Hobbs Cabin up on the plateau. Thankfully, the boulder crossing in the Collins Gulf was shorter and easier to navigate. When I spied the suspension bridge that would take me to the east side of the gulf, I knew the hardest part of the day was over.

 

   Large boulders near bridge

Once across the bridge, you must climb out of the gulf. And I mean literally climb. I thought at first the trail dead-ended. Then I hoped that maybe I'd made a wrong turn. But then I saw the marker and remembered seeing a picture of this rock wall. I knew the trail was above.

The trail marker doesn't lie

I managed to get myself up on the landing without taking off my pack. And much to my relief, the footpath resumed here; scaling the remaining wall would not be required. The trail then eases up and offers the hiker an excellent opportunity to make up lost time. There are a lot of overlooks, but most of the views remain obstructed this time of the year by the trees. I heard some voices up ahead of me, so I knew I wasn't alone. I spotted a couple of guys sitting at the end of a spur trail on a rocky overlook, so I ventured on to the next overlook. This spot offered what was decidedly the View of the Day:

View of the Day

The two individuals - evidently a grown son and his father - soon made their way to this overlook to snap the mandatory pictures required of all hikers. We chatted for a while and discovered we were all headed to the same campground. As they proceeded back down the trail, the father mentioned I would likely be passing them up. Sure enough, about a mile or so later, I heard their voices. I'm thinking in my head about trail etiquette. I hadn't packed my bicycle horn, and I'm wondering if I will just call out, "Beep, beep, coming around on your left." As I'm pondering this, I hear a loud buzzing sound straight ahead. I stop immediately, as this wasn't a sound I immediately recognized. The first thing that came to mind were bees, but I didn't see anything buzzing about in the air. Then I saw it: the tail of a rattler, pointed skyward and standing at attention. Much like how Tommy Lee Jones took control of Central Park in The Park is Mine, the rattlesnake made it clear this was his trail.

 

Rattler between the logs warning me the trail is closed

Giving the snake a wide berth, I made it around the roadblock and got the heck out of Dodge. Remaining on the lookout for snakes, I arrived at the campground at 3:25, right behind the father and son, who had also treaded lightly in the presence of the rattler. There were other campers there, too. I found a secluded site and proceeded to make preparations for the night. Hanging a bear bag in the Savage Gulf Natural Area is required. Not so much because of bears, although there is that possibility, but mainly because of raccoons. My bag was draped across the entry to my site, not quite 6' above the ground. No challenge for a bear, but high enough for coons.

 

  "Raccoon" bag

The evening was tailor made for camping. Clear skies and a bright moon, not to mention the comfort my new camp chair features, was the right formula for relaxation in front of the fire. At one point I knew I had been working in maintenance too long when I looked at the moon and thought it had a Sylvania cool white fluorescent glow about it.

On the return trip the following morning I walked over a lot of rocks. And more rocks. I saw a lot of rocks. I saw some really big rocks:

Really big rock

In fact, the Stagecoach Road Historic trail is nothing but rock since it is, as its name implies, an old stagecoach road dating back to the 1840s. After 1.6 miles of pure foot punishment, I was relieved to join up with the Connector Trail for 0.3 miles of easy hiking. The next 4.5 miles took me through Collins Gulf, where I saw Fall Creek Sink, Horsepound Falls, and Suter Falls. The falls, though still pretty, are a notch below spectacular this time of year due to lack of rain. The trail has a few places sure to get your heart pounding, but the final climb out, in the vicinity of Suter Falls, will have you huffing and puffing. At Suter Falls I crossed over a bridge made out of two extension ladders and followed the trail under a huge rock shelf. From here it's a quarter mile to close the loop and mabye another quarter mile or so to the trailhead.

Near Suter Falls



This was a great hike. The map describes it as a "long, difficult trail . . . designed to accommodate extended trips," and I would concur. Besides the Connector Trail, this is probably the most challenging trail in the park. Total miles hiked ~ 14.3.