Misery Ridge Made Us Do It -- A No Pain, No Grain Smith Rock Adventure

Remember when I said Central Oregon's weather was the best? Well, scratch that. It's officially a scorcher, and what better way to beat the heat than by clambering up a massive rock formation? Still on a mission to show Sam & Ryan the best local spots, Smith Rock… here we come!

We arrived in Terrebonne to a scene straight out of a Star Trek episode: towering rock spires, jagged cliffs, and a landscape that looked more like Mars than Oregon. If aliens ever decided to touch down, this would be their welcome mat. 

The parking lot was packed – on a Monday, no less! Apparently, half of Oregon had the same bright idea to escape the heat by climbing a giant rock. Go figure.

The Climb

Our adventure began with a deceptively steep descent, followed by the sinking realization that what goes down must inevitably come up. Thanks, gravity, you jerk. We crossed the Crooked River (gorgeous, by the way), followed the signs to the ominously named Misery Ridge, and braced ourselves for the ascent.

The climb was short but brutal, gaining over 1,000 feet in a mile. The trail itself was a patchwork of surfaces, jam-packed with hikers, each with their own pace and style. Some breezed past us, others huffed and puffed in the shade. Let's just say the air was thick with the symphony of exertion – grunts, groans, and the occasional choice word.

We stopped midway to catch our breath (and silently curse the sun god) while soaking in the view. Below us, the Crooked River snaked through the sun-baked landscape, a ribbon of jade against the warm hues of the high desert. In the distance, the road we'd have to climb back up to our car loomed like a final boss battle.

Near the top, we crossed paths with two women making their descent. One had generously lent a hiking pole to the other for the slightly treacherous climb down. Their conversation cracked me up, and, unable to resist the urge to insert myself into a stranger's conversation, I jumped in "So, you’re saying two poles are ideal, but one is better than none? Help me with that math..." The woman laughed and quipped, "Hard to believe I'm an algebra teacher, right?!" We chuckled and continued our upward trek.

Moments later, I muttered to Sam, "I always loved algebra, but despised geometry." Unbeknownst to me, the women were within earshot on a switchback below. Suddenly, a voice floated up from the depths: "I hated geometry too! That's why I'm an algebra teacher!" Brilliant!

The View (and the Descent)

When forever had finally passed, we reached the top and holy cow, was it worth the climb! The view was out of this world. We caught our breath for a minute, chatted with fellow hikers at the top, then took off for a secret viewpoint. If possible, this view was even more spectacular! We enjoyed the beauty for a solid two minutes, then Ty (aka Mr. "Wrap It Up Team!") hounded us to get back on the trail.

The climb down was less steep, but the loose soil turned it into a game of "Who Can Stay Upright the Longest?” We gawked at Monkey Face (nature's Picasso, I guess?), which somehow managed to look both terrifying and hilarious at the same time. There were climbers of all ages and abilities clinging to rock faces. We observed a young girl about 30 feet up a rock, frozen in fear, while the rest of the kids (and her instructor on the belay line) cheered her on.

Eagle Eye and Emergency Rescue

From here, the hike was a lovely stroll alongside the river. We saw the famous Smith Rock eagle's nest, with two majestic birds perched nearby, probably judging our clumsy human antics from their lofty vantage point.

As we crossed back over the river, we noticed an unattended Terrabonne Fire Rescue vehicle. That was definitely not here when we started this hike. Uh oh. Moments later, we saw firefighters assisting an elderly woman back down the Misery Ridge trail. Since she was walking with their help, our best guess is the climb was just a bit too much for her. They assisted her into their vehicle and drove her up that crazy steep road we had been dreading. We were actually a little jealous!

Belgian Bliss

Grungy, sun-kissed, and with a newfound appreciation for algebra, we sought refuge at Monkless Belgian Ales. Just like the monks who dedicate themselves to their craft, we had poured our sweat and determination into conquering Misery Ridge. Now, on this sun-drenched patio, the clinking of glasses and the aroma of Belgian brews were our well-deserved reward.

Each sip of the complex, flavorful beer echoed the challenges and triumphs of the hike. Just as the monks transform simple ingredients into something extraordinary, we had turned a grueling climb into a day filled with laughter and shared memories. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we raised a glass to the monks, to the mountain, and to the simple joy of a hard-earned beer.

Michelle Eidam is a freelance writer with a thirst for adventure – exploring mountains, trails, breweries, and everything in between.