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By Mark Freeman Mail Tribune They live among each other most of the year — often side-by-side — but when autumn rolls around, hunters and hikers want less to do with each other than Duck and Beaver fans on a fall Saturday. Their mutual distrust is irrational, of course, because both camps have more to fear from a swarm of bees or a wet pooch than they do from each other. Yet hikers and hunters traditionally don’t play well together in the public forests of Southern Oregon during the general rifle season for black-tailed buck deer, which begins this weekend. Thousands of rifle hunters will fan out across Bureau of Land Management and Forest Service lands ringing the Rogue Valley, areas that hikers have had mostly to themselves all summer, aside from a smaller and quieter contingent of stealthy archery hunters this past month. Hunters don’t like a bunch of hikers noisily strolling through blacktail country, while hikers often feel like the shy Labrador hiding under the bed during Fourth of July fireworks demonstrations. The tension between the two groups is mainly psychological. Statistics show that hikers have little to fear from hunters. Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife records show no hiker has ever been wounded or killed by a hunter. In fact, the statistics on weapons-related accidents show hunters are far more apt to shoot each other or themselves. Hikers and hunters look for vastly different and competing experiences from the same woods. So that usually means hikers stay home beginning each October. But that doesn’t have to be. There are plenty of places around the Rogue Valley where hikers can commune with nature this weekend without wearing blaze orange and worrying about flying projectiles. The three hiking trails outlined below are within lands where hunting is banned — but that doesn’t make them risk-free. Hikers may face real and psychological dangers even here. Jacksonville Woodlands Association trail system, Jacksonville Real threat: poison oak More than 6 miles of trails snake through 320 acres of public and private property above the Britt Music Festival grounds, zig-zagging through some of Jackson County’s richest mining history. Though the trails apparently are popular among visiting princesses, government attaches and others who believe they have diplomatic immunity from leash laws, they’re still a go-to hike. The trails are well groomed and all-weather, but you better stay on them or face itch and injury. The woodlands are overrun by poison oak — and not your garden-variety stalks of greasy red leaves. We’re talking old-growth poison oak. Some of the stalks rise more than 20 feet off the ground and possess enough resiny firepower to draw puss from a stone. That’s why, during the heat of Jacksonville’s Gold Rush, miners’ two most desired liquids were whiskey and cortisone. Well, maybe. Forest Park, Jacksonville Real threat: Dog slobber This relatively new series of trails on Jacksonville city property off Highway 238 offers an unusual array of hiking choices. Jacksonville volunteer Clayton Gillette has put together a series of hikes of varying length and difficultly laid out on color-coded cue cards with descriptions of the hikes. Follow the colored diamonds and arrows to stay on those particular tracks. That makes each Forest Park hike different. At the same time, however, some can be downright sticky from dog-slobber. Some of the trails are dedicated to off-leash dogs. So around any corner you may find someone’s Hooch with plenty of extra slime to happily share with your face. And arms. And neck. And hair. What those colored cards should tell you is to carry plenty of water, and a slobber towel. Lower Table Rock, off Wheeler Road, Sams Valley Real threat: Class outings This is the other Table Rock, a slightly less popular hike than Upper Table Rock for the roughly 45,000 annual visitors each year to the Rogue Valley’s signature mesas rising up and overlooking the Rogue River. The 1.75-mile trail rises about 800 feet, making it a half-mile longer and a few feet taller than Upper Table Rock, so there’s a little more cardio opportunities here. What’s best about the trail is that it’s solely set aside for hikers. No dogs. No bikes. No four-wheelers. Sure, the occasional pack of ukulele players will descend on the trail, but that’s only in spring. Your biggest worry this time of year will be squealing throngs of grade-schoolers, so be wary. First, scan the parking lot for school buses. Those things are like kiddie clown cars, capable of unleashing a tsunami of fourth-graders who can pose clear and present dangers going up or down the trail. Get stuck behind one of these heading up the trail and 45 minutes can turn into two hours. Heading downstream is worse. They often barrel unchecked, and hikers can be overrun in seconds, threatening injuries from flying water bottles, Taylor Swift backpacks and size-5 skateboarding shoes. That can make poison oak and dog-slobber look like viable alternatives. Reach Mail Tribune reporter Mark Freeman at 541-776-4470 or [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter @MTwriterFreeman.