Saturday, August 31, 2019

Phantom Ship (Crater Lake National Park, Oregon)


It's been a few years since I've visited the magnificent flooded volcanic crater known as Crater Lake in southwestern Oregon, but on road trip to Bend, it seemed like the perfect diversion. I had originally planned to do a couple of hikes, but with one trail closed and the other trail overwhelmingly crowded, I opted to forego those hikes and just focus on the views. One of the most amazing of which is the overlook for the Phantom Ship.

Crater Lake has two islands within it, the larger Wizard Island on the western side of the lake is a newer, smaller volcanic cone growing from the crater and the Phantom Ship, which is simply a rock outcropping that was high enough to rise above the crater's flood waters. The interesting and photo-worthy characteristic of phantom island is it's uncanny resemblance to an ancient sailing ship. Large spires of stone reach out from the unworldly blue waters of the lake to resemble the masts of those great vessels. With the steep crater walls surrounding it, the tiny island very much resembles some kind of haunted boat from a bygone era. It's quite striking.

Sunday, August 25, 2019

White Rock Lake via Independence Lake (Nevada County, California)

 

Today's hike with the meetup group is a bit of a route-finding exercise, which has been a theme recently, to find a path from the western end of Independence Lake up and over a rugged granite ridge to White Rock Lake a few miles to the west. Knowing this would be a time-consuming hike, we met a bit earlier than normal and with only four of us, it made sense to just meet at the organizer's home. Just after 7:00 AM, we departed for the trailhead and made our way over towards Truckee. The road took us deep into the forest to arrive at the Independence Lake Conservancy Camp, on the eastern end of the lake.


After strapping on our packs, we headed out along a dirt road that follows the northern shore of the medium sized lake. It's very easy hiking and we make good time for the first three miles. We note an abundance of snow plant here, to which someone comments about it being protected now due to some people harvesting it for food. At least at this early start of the hike, the temperature couldn't be much better. It's hovering around 55 degrees, but I can't imagine that will last long.


I had expected to see some development here, perhaps predating the conservancy's ownership of this land, but I'm surprised and grateful to be disappointed on this matter. The lake is pristine with no cabins in sight. In fact, the only notable sign of civilization beyond the dirt road we are walking is a strangely place electric fence. With no signs of cattle here, we're all a little unsure of the need for such a barrier. We grab the yellow rubber handles of the two spring sections and pull it back to allow our party to pass through and then return them to their hooks (luckily without getting a shock).

As we approach the end of the road on the western end of the long narrow lake, we head off trial and into the forest. We know the general direction we must go and simply find the best path through the dense forest and underbrush. There is a huge amount of fallen timber here that would fuel a serious forest fire. It's probably good that this is a seldom-visited area. I can see a tossed cigarette wrecking havoc in this remote area.

After about a mile and a half in the forest, we emerge at a large meadow, which is essentially a bowl between masses of granite. We skirt around side of the wet meadow on wide sheet of flat granite that sits at about a 30-degree incline to the plane of the meadow. After making our way around, the real challenges begin. Here we encounter one climbing challenge after another, which I find quite fun. Unfortunately, one of my comrades is recovering from surgery three weeks ago and another bruised a rib or two on a recent hike. We do our best to find a path that will cause the least discomfort to them, but we are still force to make some decent climbs and scrambles as we make our way up the granite face.


Our advance is slow, but with persistence and diligence, we make our way up the mountain. On a few occasions, we are forced to scout for a way up the next section and we do encounter some really challenging sections, but not enough to deter us. On one section in particular, I have to make my way up a 45-degree boulder-field covered with greenery, before pulling myself up about five feet to a narrow ledge also covered with plant growth. From there, I'm able to swing around and carefully inch my way up a steep granite incline that includes a small flow of water, making the climb slippery and even more treacherous. I advise my friends to find a different route, but as I'm committed, I continue on and arrive at the top just before them.


Luckily, they found another route around the side of this obstacle and join me on top a short time later. From here, we can finally see White Rock Lake about a mile distant. It's windy up here with a slight chill on the air. We take some time to refuel with snacks and then discuss our next move. We know the trip down to the lake over more rugged terrain is going to take another hour or so, and after some discussion decide to settle for the wonderful view that we currently have rather than make our way down. Personally, I'm very content with his plan. I really only wanted the view anyway.

After a short break, we start making our way back down the granite face we had just climbed, trying to follow a similar route. Down is almost easier than up, but we do find ourselves in a couple of conundrums when we stray from our previous route. The most challenging of these forces us to carefully slide our way down several cascades of a now-trickling waterfall. A month or two ago, this likely wouldn't have been possible due to the spring melt, but now towards the end of summer, the torrent has been reduced to a tiny stream. I lead the way and carefully slide down from one section to the next, doing my best to point out good hand and foot holds for the others. Thankfully, we make our way down the waterfall and out of the granite without injury.


After another trek through the forested section, we return to the dirt road and begin to make our way back to the car. Entering mid-afternoon, it's hot and unfortunately, we have all used most of our water. I do have a pump filter with me and Independence Lake is just a few feet from me, but we opt to push forward to the car. When finally get back, we crack open a couple of beers and enjoy some refreshing melon. As always with this group, it was a great hike and I'm thankful to be part of this amazing bunch of people. We covered 12.4 miles on and off the trial today, which was a good workout.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Wabena Petroglyphs (Placer County, California)


Today's adventure is not a hike or a run, but a search (mostly in the jeep) for a remote petroglyph panel in the Sierra Nevada range "near" Soda Springs, CA. I learned of the Wabena Petroglyph panel from an archaeological survey book I acquired a couple of years ago. When I mentioned the trip to my friend, Nick, who shares my interest in Native American rock art, he enthusiastically wanted to join.

In my jeep, we departed Reno a little after 7:00 AM with electronic maps and some location descriptions in hand. We knew it was going to take some time to get to the site though. The panel is reported to lay on top of Wabena Point, which is on the far side of the Royal Gorge of the American River. After a 45-minute drive to the Soda Springs exit and leaving the pavement, we traveled on rough forest service roads for about 15-miles. The route takes us down the northern side of the deep valley via a number of long switchbacks. The way is rough and I don't think a car would make this trip, but it doesn't pose much of a challenge for my Rubicon, even with the current need for new tires.

As we drop down to the bottom of the gorge, we pass by something listed as Onion Creek Campground, we're a little baffled to identify anything resembling a campground (even a primitive one) in this thick forest. Continuing on we pass over Onion Creek and then into a remote forest community, which I believe is actually called Soda Springs. We note with some sarcasm the huge number of "No Trespassing" signs we have seen along the way, specifically the areas on either side of the road. Neither of us is sure what could be so valuable here as to warrant all of these signs. A few structures and even what appear to be homes make up the small community, but I can't imagine this being a year-round home for anyone. The winter snows at this elevation would like make it impossible to escape for supplies during much of the year.

Finally reaching the bottom of the valley and crossing over the North Fork of the American River, we begin the climb up the far side of the Royal Gorge. A criss-cross of jeep trails make it a bit confusing, but we planned our route out pretty well and have no real issues. We are caught quite off-guard when we drive past a paved basketball court in very good condition (new nets, no overgrowth, no cracking in the pavement) deep in the forest. Who in the world would have put this here? And who would drive this far on such rough roads to play? The answers will have to remain a mystery as we are focused on another destination further up the ridge.


Reaching a spot in the jeep trail that is near Wabena Point, we continue on foot. This are juts out of the mountain like a peninsula into a sea of vastness. The Royal Gorge opens up before us and stretches for perhaps a hundred miles beyond. Far below (like a couple of thousand feet), the river cuts ever deeper into the mountain. Though it is far distant, we can see a couple of nice waterfalls below the ridge where we currently stand.

The loose scree up here doesn't look like the type of stone that would make for good rock art, but we begin looking around nonetheless. After twenty minutes or so, we are starting to get a little frustrated. The descriptions I found were pretty clear, but for whatever reason, we are just not finding the panel. We decide to return the short distance to the jeep, where surprisingly, we had very good mobile reception. After reviewing some other notes and pictures of the site, we walk back out the quarter mile or so to the point and begin our search again.


After only a short time, Nick spots the panel. How we missed it before is a mystery, but there it is in all its glory. This long panel is very near the edge of the cliff and is approximately fifteen feet long by four feet wide. It lays nearly flat on the ground and has some amazing images pecked into it. The stone itself has begun to crumble around some of the edges and someone has attempted to cement them back together. I appreciate the person's attempt to preserve the rock art, but I'm left not knowing how to feel about this unnatural intrusion. Regardless, the individual had good intentions and I hold them or their work no ill will. The rock art itself includes images of the sun, of bear claws, and even what is possibly a medicine shield. The panel is very reminiscent of the one above Donner Lake, which makes sense as we are only twenty miles or so from there.

Nick and I snap a few more photos and then decide to head out. This has been one of the most remote and difficult panels that either of us has ever visited, but the beauty of the rock art and the cultural treasure it represents makes it all worth while.

Saturday, August 10, 2019

Perseids on the Playa 2019 (Pershing County, Nevada)


Annually, the Friends of Black Rock gather on the smooth, lifeless playa surface of the Black Rock Desert to view the climax of the Perseid Meteor Shower in the vast darkness of this uninhabited region, far from the pollution of city lights. This year is my fourth year taking part with them in this adventure, and I'm joined by my friends Gen, Josh, and Lacey this time.

Originally, we had planned on driving the two or so hours to the playa on Friday evening, but with a combination of clouds and delays in packing our respective vehicles, we decided to delay going out until Saturday afternoon. Gen and I each drive our respective vehicles, while Josh and Lacey, pull a small camper they recently purchased behind their 4-runner. We met near the Wadsworth exit a few miles east of Reno on I-80 and then caravaned up NV-447 towards Gerlach, NV where we will depart the highway and drive out onto the white surface commonly known as the playa. Nearing Gerlach, we encounter some rain. We pull over, discuss our plan, and decide to head on out into the desert, as Doppler radar indicates this is the tail end of the storm system.

As we down 12-Mile "Road", we pass along the border fence of Black Rock City, which in about three weeks will contain the amazing counter-culture event known as Burning Man. I was lucky enough to attend last year, and Gen and Lacey will be going this year. It's also worth mentioning the pure freedom of driving on the playa. Many years ago when I first moved to this region, I took my truck out onto the playa, accelerated up to 100 mph, closed my eyes, and took my hands off the steering wheel. It was a exhilarating experience and while we won't be doing that today, I still remember the absolute freedom I felt that day.

Arriving at the provided coordinates, the four of use find a vacant area among the camp of about seventy-five people. The sky still has a lot of clouds and a moderately strong wind is blowing. We decide to crack open some of the craft beer we brought out to share with each other. This is a fairly common activity among many of my friends. Most of us travel to some extent and share a love of great craft beer. We make it a point to collect unique beers in our travels and then share them when we come together. 


When the winds die down, I start to set up my tent and bedding. Lacey and Josh will sleep in their camper, Gen in her car, and I will relax under my backpacking quilt on top of a couple of sleeping pads. We stay up for a little while and enjoy more beer before deciding to turn in and wait for the moon to set, which should be about 1:40 AM. I set my alarm, but when I open my eyes another layer of thick cloud cover has moved in and obscures our view of the vast star-field. I fall back asleep, but awaken to Lacey stirring nearby about an hour later. Some of the clouds have departed and a large patch of open night sky appears to the northwest. The four of us wake and pull some chairs out to await the show.

During the hour or so, we see a dozen or so shooting stars. A thin layer of clouds seems to partially block our view. It's unfortunate, but it seems this will not be a great year for seeing the meteor shower. Eventually, we all agree to wind down and head back to our respective sleeping arrangements. I quickly fall asleep and awaken with the sunrise. Breaking camp and wishing my friends well, I head back to Reno to start the day.

Sunday, August 4, 2019

Scorpion Hunt at Washoe Lake (Washoe County, Nevada)

*Photo courtesy of Washoe Lake State Park

The Nevada State Park system is a big believer in education and often hosts outings. One in particular caught my attention and I decided to check it out. Starting about 8:30, just after sunset, park rangers were planning to lead participants, including many children out into the sage brush and sand in search of scorpions, which apparently fairly populous here. 

I met up with my friend, Kendall, from a wine education group, which I lead, and her co-worker, M. The three of us listened as the seventy or so participants gathered round a picnic awning and the rangers described the plan for the evening. They even brought out a captured scorpion for the children to see. These desert arachnids glow under black light, and the rangers had suggested in the event description that we should bring any personal black-lights we might have available. Luckily, my wife had one and loaned it to me for the search. Kendall also very thoughtfully brought some bendable glow-sticks that we could easily shape into necklaces. This was helpful in find each other in the darkness.

After the briefing, we wondered out into the sage brush, eyes looking downward a the purplish light cast by our black-lights scanning for the reclusive scorpions. The large group fanned out over a large area as we made our way towards the lake. The really are no trails through here. It's more of just finding the best path that doesn't get one caught up in sagebrush. I found the leg of a deceased deer and a number of rabbit parts, probably dinner for a mountain lion or pack of coyote, but the pincered little demons remained elusive.

We searched for nearly an hour in the darkness, but never found one of the little guys. Finally, about 9:30 PM we turned back and headed for the cars. Talking with some other participants on the way back, it seems there were some scorpions out here, we just didn't find any. That said though, we got in two-miles or so of bushwhacking. So, that counts for something. I may come out and try this again at some point. It would be pretty cool to see the little guys glow under the light.

Truckee Half-Marathon (Nevada County, California)


I've been on a streak so far this year of running at least one half-marathon each month (I ran two in May), but not wanting to end the situation, I started looking for a nearby run for the month of August. Originally, I was considering running the ET Midnight Half along the Extraterrestrial Highway in central Nevada, near Rachel. As I write this, I'm undecided on whether or not, I will run that one. However, I decided cover my bases by registering for the Truckee Half-Marathon, when I saw my friend Miranda had signed up for. Our mutual friend Chris had cautioned about the route being exceptionally hilly and running a bit long, but it didn't deter us.

The morning of the race, Miranda picked me up at my home around 5:45AM and we headed over the hill. Another friend, Sarah, was suppose to run, but she was having some issues with a new puppy she had adopted. Also, Chris was registered for the race, but thought he might have his kids with him and opted to drive separately. It's only about a thirty minute drive between Reno and Truckee, but we needed to pick up our bib's. Additionally, Sarah had asked us to leave earlier to allow her plenty of time to warm-up prior to the race. Sarah and Chris are both extremely capable and competitive runners, often placing or even winning various distances. Miranda and I, while taking our running pretty seriously, aren't quite on the same level and at least speaking for myself, have little desire to be. Though Sarah cancelled on is, we decided to keep our meeting time and so with the crack of dawn, we were headed over the Sierra Nevada.

Arriving at Alibi Aleworks (one of the race's sponsors and the start and finish line) in downtown Truckee, we paid our parking meter, grabbed our bibs and proceeded back to the car. Truckee sits a couple of thousand feet higher in elevation that Reno and its cold up here this morning. In fact, my phone shows the temperature at 47 degrees. Good running weather, but a little brisk to be standing outside for long in running shorts. As the start time approaches, more an more people begin to show up. Luckily, we beat the crowds and got a nice parking spot. A 5k is also being hosted and between the two events, I would estimate about three hundred runners. Not a bad turn out for a small mountain town.

Just a few minutes before the start time at 7:30AM, we hop out of the car and find Chris near the starting line. We chat for a couple of minutes, get stretched, and then await the countdown. One of the race officials tells the crowd that he is just waiting on confirmation of the roads being closed. The delay is nearly ten minutes, but with a countdown from ten, we're off.


As expected Chris is leading the pack out of the gate and for nearly the first two miles. Miranda and I leap-frog each other a bit, especially on some of the early hills, but eventually she pulls away from me. Though I hadn't reviewed the route and elevation profile in great detail, I knew the first part included a fair amount of trail. We had also been warned at the pre-race briefing of a single-file bridge over a seasonal creek. When I finally arrived at the "bridge", I found it was nothing more than two 2x8" planks placed end to end and supported by a log in the middle. Single-file? I'm not sure there was another choice. 

Other than some steep uphills, I feel pretty strong as we proceed through the campground on the eastern end of Donner Lake, but some of the inclines are steep enough that I'm forced to walk up them. The problem with walking is that it gives my mind the time and energy to think and thinking is the enemy right now. Just one week ago, one of my very best friends took his own life and those dark thoughts of loss weigh heavily on me. Perhaps my music choices along the trail aren't helping, but all of this in combination has the effect of slowing me down considerably going into the second third of the course.

As I reach the highest point on the song side of the long alpine lake that, I look out over the water and realize that Miranda is gone and its doubtful if I will be able to catch her at this point. Oh well, I'm here for me and honestly, the stress-relief that running brings is something that I am in desperate need of right now. The loss of my friend will not be easy to get over. Luckily, the road starts heading downhill towards lake level and I'm able to gain some time back. I can start to feel some twinges in my right knee though, especially on the impact of downhill steps.

Rounding the western side of the lake, the course flattens out and will remain so almost the entire northern side of the lake. We are afforded some very nice views from here. The water is still pretty cold, but as we are entering the dog days of summer, the temperatures are getting just to a point that people will dare swim in the clear waters. A number of people are out on the lake on paddle boards, while others sun themselves on the public piers. It's a pretty view and I kind of wish I could join them, but no, I must push on and finish the race.

After reaching the eastern end of the lake, the route breaks away and heads up Donner Pass Road and into Truckee proper. There is a lot of construction going on and combined with the congestion caused by the race, traffic is backed up a bit. I make my way through the small shops until finally reaching the point I have most dreaded. Before me rises a three-hundred foot hill that I must run up. On the elevation profile chart, this particular hill appears as almost a vertical line. This is going to be a challenge for my already-straining knee. I make the turn and begin my ascent. After only a short distance, I'm forced to walk again. I'm not alone though, everyone runner in site has suddenly become a walker for this physical challenge.


Finally reaching the top, I know the course is only a couple more miles and most of it is downhill. That will be good for my time, but not so good for my knee. The pain has gotten worse and it aches with every impact. The trail here is a paved walkway/bike-way through what appears to be a regional park (I'm unsure of the name), but it is a pleasant space and I pass a number of families enjoying a leisurely stroll along the way. Making the left turn, I pass underneath Interstate 80, which I had crossed over the top of before entering Truckee proper. Just ahead, the finish line. Miranda is there waiting for me and cheering me in as I make the final push.


I'm in pain and exhausted both physically and mentally, but what I'm not is stressed. Physical exhaustion has a way of clearing the head, at least for me, and I have been in desperate need of this for a week now. We take a few minutes to hydrate and then head in to enjoy our complimentary beer and some Mexican corn nachos. My track shows the route at about 13.55 miles. Chris was correct. My finishing time was 2:45:15, which is not great, but I wasn't expecting much today. Miranda made her goal and finished with a 2:28. Chris, unfortunately, had to end his race after only about 3.5 miles due to his achilles acting up. He likely would have won the race had it not been for that old injury returning to haunt him.