This beautiful Oregon State Park is a bit on the young side, officially opened in July, 2007. Whether your thing is hiking, biking, horses, relaxing, or disc golf, this 1,500+ acre park has got you covered.

Today was all about National Trails Day at Stub Stewart State Park. The boy and I began the morning bright and early making our way to the park, and upon arrival, eating our breakfast and signing in for a joint trail maintenance venture between Oregon State Parks and REI. We even received some slick volunteer t-shirts with the phrase "Get Dirty" plastered across the front. 

After logging many, many miles upon the state's trails over the past couple of years, the timing felt right to show the lad what was behind the magic of every inch of trail we step upon. A refresher for myself was not a bad thing either!

I couldn't have been more thrilled with how things turned out. Our amazing hosts, Rangers Steve and Brandon, were phenomenal and instrumental in getting the most knowledge parlayed into our little group in a short amount of time, including personal and group safety, the lingo behind cutting trails, a breakdown of tools for the job, and the ecology of the park. 

When it was time to throw on the gloves and start maintaining some of the trails around Matchcutter's Lane, we stood at a crossroads around our instrument of choice: Loppers, a Pulaski, a hoe, a McLeod, or a mattock? Considering the boy is still the tender age of four, we went with the responsible choice of a hoe. I think neighboring volunteers breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing our choice.

Ranger Steve provided really solid lessons around drainage concerns, troubles with switchback cutters, the beauty of Oregon soil, forty-five degree backslopes, how to broadcast our organic materials, and more safety tips throughout the exercise. I will never forget the multiple times when the Ranger stomped his foot on the soil for effect, and the lad followed suit and did the same.

After having lots of experiences running into park rangers on the trails or at lookouts, this time it was definitely having an impact on the little guy. Age? Rapport? Definitely both.

The lad was able to experience a little bit of hard work, but mostly got to enjoy the immediate fruits of the labor: bugs and burrows. In the cutest manner, he would ask Range Steve a question each time he came across something new, be it a termite, an ant, or a vole burrow. 

While we weren't on that stretch for the longest time, the unspoken camaraderie between volunteers was excellent. Everyone filled in where needed, patching missed points or grooming forgotten pieces of the trail. Soon enough, we ventured down the way and past the intersection of Barberchair Trail. This stretch of trail had some good stumps therein, and we set to work maintaining the areas around the stumps. Naturally, our gear wasn't going to be doing any of the heavy work needed to deal with those bad boys.

Ranger Brandon gave us some insights into how that work would be done, and told us about some of his experiences working on the Banks-Vernonia Trail. I can't wait to do that whole trail, and you can bet I'll be thanking that man throughout it.

When the time for the activity wrapped up, we hiked back up to the hilltop day-use area and returned our tools (one-at-a-time of course). Pictures were taken and everyone went their own way, preparing for the forthcoming National Trails Day festivities.

The boy and I grabbed some bites to eat, and made our way through the nearby trails. It is a gorgeous park, and the trails were a blast to traverse, namely because of the varying ages of the surrounding Douglas firs. Some stretches are just a couple of decades old, while others have a little more age amongst them. 

The lupine, in multiple colors, was in full force among the grassy areas, which was a tranquil escape. We passed family after family, which really speaks to the appeal of this area for the little ones.

In a pleasant turn of events, we actually found ourselves returning along the same route that included the areas we had just helped work on. The little guy beamed with some pride when I showed him each area. Score.

When we finally got back to the picnic area, the festivities were in full effect. The lad cashed in on shwag, namely a carabiner (REI) that now lives on his hiking pack, a water bottle (Equestrian Society), and countless stickers. While he got to observe solar flares courtesy of an OMSI booth, I was able to sink my teeth into some amazing GIS work provided by the Upper and Lower Nehalem Watershed Councils. The blast of activities was rounded out by some disc golf, pelt petting courtesy of Rails to Trails, spore prints by the Oregon Mycological Society, and free sandwiches.

While I was pumped up and ready to continue exploring the park, the poor kiddo had definitely done his share for the day and was ready to head home. As I heavily reflected on the previous week's venture to Marys Peak, it was pretty easy to pack up and plan our return to Stub Stewart for another day.

While we did not get the chance to hit some wild and difficult trails in celebration of National Trails Day, I wouldn't have traded the day at all. It was the lad's first experience with true stewardship in an organized fashion, and the fun he had with the educational outreach programs was top-notch.

I want to thank every single person and organization involved with making our day so amazing. Happy National Trails Day, today and every day hereafter.

The original plan today was to hit the Guler Ice Cave, but that destination was scrapped due to the lad's consideration of its spookiness after seeing some ominous pictures. Rather than ruining spelunking forever for the poor boy, Plan B was enacted. The only problem, there was no Plan B. After some quick searching and scanning online, the crosshairs for today's adventure fell on Cedar Butte Trail in the Tillamook State Forest.

I was a little nervous about this hike, and it wasn't because of the 700' gain in .75 miles. That weighed a bit in the back of my mind, but it was the volume of cars this afternoon at every trailhead on Oregon Route 6 that really had me questioning today's choice of locale. That, coupled with the fact that there was a very recent article in Portland Monthly about the same destination. I just knew that we would get to the trailhead and be greeted by thirty Subarus.

Yeah, I was totally wrong about that. By the time we got up the mountainside on some pretty rough and muddy forest roads, there was not a single soul to be found at the trailhead parking. Guys on dirtbikes cruised by, but it turned out that we were on our own for the entirety of the hike.

Starting out in a pretty open harvested area, the first part of the trail was nice and mellow. Every bit of that terrified me, knowing that we initially had three-quarters of a mile to scramble 700 feet up, and that initial mellowness burned about a quarter of the implied distance. Now, we're talking less distance to deal with the same elevation gain. How fun.

Before hitting the switchbacks that announced nearly vertical climbing (whiny exaggeration, but I did have a 35 pound child atop my shoulders), we got to spend some great time looking at the results of previous burns in the area, and I had a grand time pantomiming the great Tillamook Burn.

Cruising through the closed single canopy forest really highlighted the results and timing of replanting in the area after all of the fires. Once we emerged out of this forest and saw Cedar Butte in the distance, the magic really started. Beargrass, wood sorrel, penstemon, and Indian paintbrush just lit up the place.

One last (and steep) chunk of trail led us to the top of the butte, rewarding us with a true prairie fire of flowers and an ocean of green stretching from our position to the Pacific. A couple of rugged benches provided a nice spot to rest, and we enjoyed a fine lunch - peanut butter burritos, apples, sauteed sausage, and the obligatory granola bars.

In one of my favorite moments of the day, the young'un was quite agitated at the sight of some garbage up on the summit. There was some thick glass broken about and a few food wrappers. For background, he has been saying "bad polluters" every time we come across rogue garbage littered anywhere. He asked me if he could talk to them about what they did, and I said, "Sure, Kiddo." He stepped away from me and toward the edge, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Bad polluters! Stop leaving your things on the ground!" as though all of them would hear him from way up there. We picked up what we could, and I was left beaming about the righteous anger he expressed.

All told, that lowly little 0.75 miles took us the better part of an hour to climb. We took lots of pictures along the way, but it is definitely a testament to the elevation gain. On the other hand, the way down may have been twenty minutes or so.

Short and sweet and sweaty. This was a really grand hike that has bitten me with desires to tackle some more of the Tillamook State Forest. I think Elk Mountain is off the table with the lad's presence, but I'm sure we'll figure out some appropriate places to hit