Running A Hidden Gem In Oregon’s Coast Range

Nobody likes a 4AM alarm. Not even me, who has set hundreds of them before big adventures.

Alpine starts, as they are affectionately called, are a test every time. Can your brain will your body out of the warm bed? Can you make a pot of coffee while nearly asleep? Will you remember to pack snacks, layers, and the right gear for the day ahead? Fortunately, good things come to those who set early alarms. They are the table stakes to epic days, even if they never get easier.

Such was the case for us before the Rogue River Trail. My iPhone rang at 4AM, pulling me out of a weird dream about pirates and mutiny. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and shuffled out the back of the truck, throwing on my sandals and headlamp to stick the landing below me. Although it was completely dark, I could feel a light drizzle, making for a moody start to the day. Trying not to think much about it, I lit the camp stove and sliced a bagel, forcing myself to consume calories before we hit the trail. My partners in crime, Reed and Heidi, soon crawled out of their beds as well, to join the unceremonial pre-run breakfast.

Hidden in the southwestern corner of Oregon in the overlooked Coast Range, the 40-mile Rogue River Trail follows the river through its deepest canyon and most remote section, offering an ideal escape from the rest of the world. The trail was originally built by miners and homesteaders over a century ago, as a way in and out of the massive gorge, without having to float the dangerous river. Today it is mostly used by hikers and backpackers, and occasional trail runners like us.

After making sure we had all the necessities for a long day out, we took off into the night. We planned to run end-to-end in one shot, getting the full experience in a much condensed timeline. The trail traverses a variety of terrain, from lush forests with ferns and mossy trees, to rocky cliffs, and open meadows with old maples, which in early November were in full autumn color. After a few miles of running, the sun started to rise, opening up views of the river and the forest around us, which greatly improved the dreary mood.

The first 23 miles of the Rogue River Trail are only accessible by foot, making the first half of our day a real wilderness adventure. With the mist moving in and out and temps floating around fifty degrees, we made quick work of those early miles, stopping only briefly to snap photos and eat snacks, but not long enough to get too cold. For the entire first half we saw just one other hiker, exemplifying how unknown the Rogue is – the phrase “hidden gem” is very overused these days, but this trail truly is one.

The second half of the trail is similar, with a few more houses and lodges sprinkled along the way. These allow guests to experience the river at a slower speed than we did. The fishing on the Rogue River is world-class, with ocean-run steelhead and a variety of trout, not to mention plentiful whitewater for experienced kayakers and rafters. Even if you just like to swim and read books, these remote outposts offer a unique type of experience.

We continued to tick off miles quickly, as the second was flat and flowy. I often found myself in awe of the construction of the trail, much of it is cut directly into the cliffside. By mid-afternoon we made it to Big Bend, the terminus of the Rogue River Trail, sore, soaked, and so happy. There’s nothing better than a long day of shuffling, snacking, and exploring a new place with friends. It was a good reminder that alpine starts aren’t easy, but they are always worth it. Sitting on the tailgate, I couldn’t help but appreciate the place around me. What a gift to have vast wilderness areas, like the Rogue River, to explore.