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Myself, I’ve visited Forest Park, usually to hike, once or twice a week since I moved to Portland after college twenty-odd years ago. I wondered: What if city councils across America decided that wildlands and hiking trails were just as important as parking garages and correctional facilities? BACKPACKER editors just named the Four Pass Loop one of our favorite trips ever—and Rockies readers agree, voting this their #1 hike. Today we’re looking at the main types of zombies and how much of a thread these really are. Our mission is to be the voice of the independent zombie community and bring awareness and uncensored entertainment to the zombie loving masses. On hot summer days, when the sidewalk downtown is baking and the air feels dead and still, I think of the leaves on the maple trees up there in Forest Park–in the hills just west of the center of Portland, Oregon. It covers more than 5,000 acres, stretching on for eight miles along the cragged and steep northeast-facing slope of the Tualatin Hills.
I’m familiar with certain small rocks on the Wildwood Trail, and I know which knobby tendrils of tree roots have been worn shiny by footsteps. It’s a second-growth forest set within a metropolis of 2 million people who engage in an intricate, daily dance with the wilds. We’ll be looking at how the infection spreads and how dangerous the zombie itself is.
We appreciate it that you take the time to read our site, and have come this far in preparing yourself for the apocalypse. They’re almost iridescent green, and veiny, and bending in the breeze amid the evergreens. I’ve been in the park in a blizzard and when the trees were veiled in a thin fog that glided along, ghostlike, through the canopy.


Go counterclockwise, starting at Maroon Lake (1), where the purple-streaked Maroon Bells dominate the sky. I wanted to venture off the well-trodden paths close to downtown and just wander–into, say, a little stretch west of town where there are no paths, only a fire lane through tawny grass awash in the sound of nearby trains. Follow the north shore on the West Maroon Trail, then turn right at the signed junction (2). Combining their speed, herd mentality and the fact they can only be killed by destroying the brain, makes them one of your worst enemies ever.
You’ll feel the pine needles underfoot on the hiking trails, and it will feel like the world is suddenly breathing again.
Maybe Forest Park is the sort of place we all need, just like we need the glamour hikes caught in our screensavers. Switchback .2 mile to Crater Lake (3) and a showstopping photo op of the Bells (see next page).
This creates a very hostile and dangerous environment, because you never know who dies and at what time, the dead can be anywhere. Imagine the dead waking up and running after you and the only way to kill them for good, is by destroying the brain. Rather, there are 70 miles of hiking paths and one route, the Wildwood Trail, which winds along for 30 miles. Continue on West Maroon Trail 3.7 miles, then choose one of the established campsites edging the meadow (4). Given the number of people who die on earth every day, the initial outbreak will leave a good 153,424 zombies in the first day. Because of their very limited brain activity and rigor mortis, they’ll probably be clumpsy as hell and keep falling over everything.


Lets say every zombie bites at least three people before being put down, that gives us 460,272 zombies on the first day. Sword ferns often grow profusely under the trees, and in some places you can entirely escape the sound of automobiles. I would give them a danger rating of 10 out of 10, but their clumsiness gets them a 9 out of 10.
Turn right again at a three-way junction (7) and gain 400 feet to the crest of 12,415-foot Frigid Air Pass (8). By that time most people and governments will know about it and will find out that the only way to kill them (again), is by destroying the brain. Continue west for 1.3 miles to your second campsite, one of several spots scattered among ponderosas 150 feet from the North Fork of the Crystal River (10). We either work together to put them down and learn to live with death, or the shamblers will slowly take over the world.
Because they’re slow, but extremely persistent and need a headshot, I give them an 8 out of 10.
On your final day, turn right at the junction (14) and hike beneath sheer, red-rock cliffs and across Snowmass Creek before powering up to 12,462-foot Buckskin Pass (15).



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