So – where the hell is Cypress Ridge, you may well be asking. And what’s more – why is Cypress ridge? Weren’t you supposed to be going up Mount Becher via Boston Ridge?
Well yes. And it all started off surprisingly well.
Lisa and I drove up to the parking area and walked to the left as instructed. We found an old road (as described) and followed it for a very short bit. Then, there was a trail that appeared to go in the right direction and then an old road again for a tiny bit and then: hey! The sign! Boston Ridge Trail.
We felt chuffed. We’d found it. And so we went and there was the big old log jam, exactly where it was supposed to be and there – glory be – was the trail edging to the right of the jam. Great – we didn’t have to climb up that horrible monster – just as promised. And then – uh-oh. Just where I thought we ought to descend and then start going up past the jam, a fork in the road. And there was flagging leading down. But there was also flagging going up (and as we know – up is always good) – and a sign pointing up. The sign read “Boston.”
Well. Lisa and I decided that perhaps since Pat had last been on the trail, things had changed. you no longer needed to descend – you now just went up. And so we did that.
I should mention at this point that it was crazy steep.
However, we persevered and finally came to yet another fork. To the right was what looked like an old road. To the left was a single track trail. No flagging. No signs.
We took the left hand trail. We went up and then flat and it got very (very) bushwhacky. I have the scratches to prove it. After about 20 minutes it petered out.
Guess we should have taken the old road.
We headed back, took the road and were immediately rewarded with very steep uphills. I had some misgivings at this point about not going down at the log jam. You see, this was a mountain bike track – no question. In fact, it was a double black diamond track. No need for a sign to tell us this. Given the grade, I might even say a triple black diamond.
We were not about to turn around now. We’d been going for a while.
So we went up, coming to a bluff with views every now and then. And we kept going up. Finally a sign: Cypress Ridge Trail.
Well! Never heard of it. Never knew it existed. No idea. But one thing we were sure of: this was not the Boston Ridge Trail even though the damn sign at the jam had said “Boston” with an arrow pointing us to this very trail.
Still – we were on an adventure, right?
And a workout – sweating? Oh yeah!
And so we went on. The trail lost elevation now and then only to make up for it with crazy steep uphills. Our biggest wish – please let us not have to come back down this way. One way or another, we are going to come down the regular route.
We’d been going for three hours (!) when we finally saw something familiar: an orange chair-lift pylon! Are you kidding?! Are you telling us that we’ve been hiking for three hours and steeply at that and we’ve only managed to get to the top of the old ski hill? Really? On the regular trail, we knock this off in 30 minutes max!
Okay – there was a lot of downhill but still.
And so we had lunch and headed down the mountain and home.
We have gained considerable knowledge of the area. We did some neat exploring. We had the very best conversation.
And the sun shone on us.