Weather has been crazy this entire year. In fact, the Reno/Tahoe area received its first snowfall (in the mountains) of the winter on the very last day of summer. I had already made arrangements to hike with Deanna's Meetup to hike up to 4th of July Lake from the Blue Lakes area on Carson Pass. While we would be above 8000' for much of the hike, we couldn't let a little snow stop us (especially in September).
We met at Sierra Summit as we often do and carpooled the ninety minute drive to Upper Blue Lakes Campground. Upon turning on to Blue Lakes Road, we started seeing the snow that had fallen over the last couple of days. There wasn't a lot, but it was a bit more than a dusting. There was probably 1-2 inches on the ground. The pine trees that adorned the surrounding hills were themselves adorned with pure white snow that almost looked fake like the stuff that people often spray on their Christmas Trees in their homes.
The trail starts out trudging through the snowfall, but this early in the morning, the ground was still frozen and it didn't amount to much difficulty. Luckily, others had already trekked in on the snow, which made finding the trail a trivial matter. As usual the group tends to splinter into smaller sub-groups. All of us are pretty strong hikers, but everyone has their own pace.
Whether from the current snow or from other sources who knows, but the trail crosses a couple of small creeks as make our way into the valley below the lake. The first two are nothing more than a trickle, but the final one, which is probably responsible for carving the valley, is a bit more substantial. It requires carefully making our way down a steep incline and then rock-hopping across a creek that is no more than 6 inches deep, but stretches about 10 feet wide. Everyone makes the crossing with minimal incident.
From the creek crossing the trail sneaks up the mountainside with little to no cover from the cold wind. I've certainly hiked in colder weather, but not in September. The trail leads another mile or so as it slowly makes it's way to the bowl that holds 4th of July Lake.
Arriving at the lake, we pause for a short lunch break. Snow covers the shores and surrounding areas and the mid-30 degree temperatures make it a bit chilly once we stop moving. We encounter a couple of campers who had been on the lake shore for a day or two - nice folks, who must have endured some really cold nights the last couple of days.
After our snack, we begin to make our way back to the trailhead. I don't remember there being quite so much unrelenting uphill, but apparently there was. As it approaches noon and the sun moves directly overhead, the snow has begun to melt and makes for a bit of mud - nothing serious, but more than we hiked in on.
Finally reaching the cars again, we break out the cooler and the thirteen of us park in the sun and enjoy some beer, cider, and various snacks. In total, we hiked about 8.6 miles through some gorgeous country, especially with the light snow covering. It's always a great time hiking with these folks and I look forward to our next adventure.
For my final stop of this long weekend, I decided to visit a spot my friend, Erik, had told me of. A long windy and narrow forest road leads through the lush forest of the Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park to a popular parking lot. From the lot, one trail leads into the rich forest to a narrow slot canyon known for the sheer green walls that are covered with five different species of ferns.
Fern Canyon appears to be a popular destination. A small trickle of a creek runs from the canyon, but a number of small primitive bridges (no more than some planks nailed together across a base) have been placed along the way to keep visitors from getting completely soaked.
The walls of the canyon rise anywhere from twenty to fifty feet straight up and out of the creek bed. As far as the eye can see, green ferns carpet the walls. A number of fallen logs have been washed down the creek, making for a few obstacles to be crawled over. Eventually, I reach a point where the effort involved is likely not worth the reward, as progress would require some jungle-gym like antics to maneuver through the debris. I decide to turn back.
Upon returning to the parking lot, I realize I'm hungry and decide to take advantage of the long stretch of undeveloped beach just a few yards from me to refuel. A second trail pass through some grasses and opens up onto the find gray sands of this Northern California beach.
Just as the beach comes into site, I'm caught off guard to see a large elk bull feeding on the rich grasses. I'm only a ten or so yards away from him, but he doesn't seem to care as he continues to take his fill of the local smorgasbord. I take a few shots as he makes a few different poses.
Finally, I head out onto the beach and find a washed-up log to sit on and enjoy a snack. The waves roll in one after another to infinity. As I dine on my clif bar, a lone seal swims and leaps into and out of the incoming waves. All along the shoreline, the remains of seagulls, crabs, and other creatures find their final rest. The beach extends in both directions as far as the eye can see and there is no sign of human development. I can't help but think of all of the 'life' that's has, is, and will goes on here every day since the dawn of time. It truly makes one realize how small and insignificant we are in this great big world.
I've often wondered how many coastal redwoods and giant sequoias are off the beaten path, hidden from the prying (and damaging) onlookers that would love them to death if their locations were revealed. I value our natural world as much as anyone and I will fight to protect it from those that would do the beauty around us harm. Some time ago, I read of a newly discovered grove of old-growth redwoods near Crescent City, CA. I've visited the Redwoods State and National Parks before, but the location of this grove is a well-kept secret. Luckily, I found some information on its whereabouts.
Heading down the described series of forest roads through the park, I look for a a bridge crossing Mill Creek. Once finding it, I look for the nearest area to park the jeep. The road is narrow here and difficult for two passing cars to not collide in some sections. Luckily, I spot an unmarked trail heading into the lush forest and an area to park the jeep nearby.
Hitting the trail, I make way through the rich ecology of this coastal forest. Tall, lean redwoods densely populate the area in all directions. The tall trees provide a canopy hundreds of feet above, while green ferns and other foliage carpet the forest floor.
The trail leads uphill further into the forest parallel to the the creek, fifty or so feet below. As I get deeper into the forest, the redwoods grow in size. Many of them 12-15 feet in diameter and well over two-hundred and fifty feet tall.
I'm hoping the 'titans' for which the grove is nicknamed, will be obvious and as I round a corner, my hopes are realized. Just below the trail, a rugged and mighty redwood dominates everything around it. It's gnarled and gigantic. I believe this is the Chester Puller Titan. It's truly enormous. Alongside the trunk, another mighty titan has fallen and lies resting on the forest floor.
Further, along the trail, I find other titans, including the Lost Monarch Titan, the El Viejo del Norte Titan, and finally the Screaming Titans. The screaming titans, as the pluralized version of the noun implies, are not a single tree, but a number of trees (probably five or more) that have merged together at the base to form what must be the largest trunk of any tree I have ever seen, including the largest tree on earth, General Sherman. It's an amazing amalgamation of life.
I encounter a couple of younger explorers and we share information about the trail and titans. We discuss the need to cross the creek to reach the Del Norte Titan, but I decide to forego this final giant, as I have lots of miles yet to drive. I wish them luck in their adventures.
Returning to the jeep, I check my mileage. I've covered about 2.7 miles through this secret forest. I feel lucky to have seen these mighty giants and I hope that all future visitors will tread lightly, as I have tried to do, and preserver these living monuments for generations to come.
While chatting with the photographers at Thor's Well, I asked about any other destinations in the area or on my planned path that might be worth a visit. One gentlemen mentioned a spot he had visited the day before - a hidden gem along the Southern Oregon Coast and luckily, right along my path.
Secret Beach can be found on a Google search, but there is no real signage to indicates the trail to it. I allowed my phone GPS to guide me and then made an educated guess as to where the trailhead might be. Luckily on a nearby pull-out, someone was nice enough to sketch a general map of the local trails. Using that map as my guide, I found a trail heading west from a small pull-out.
The trail heads steeply downhill with a small creek alongside. I can't see the creek, but I can hear the running water making a break for the Pacific. I follow for approximately a quarter of a mile before it opens up to the single most beautiful beach my eyes have ever witnessed. A small waterfall drops 15 or so feet before the creek reaches its final destination. As I climb out on to a precarious finger of rock overlooking the beach, I'm am truly in awe of what I am seeing.
The sunlight is just right as it bounces off of the small rocky islands in this tiny bay. Each tall rocky island has a number of trees crowning it. The setting is like something out of the movie, 'Avatar'. The beauty of this place is truly unreal. My heart and soul somehow leave my body as I survey the awe-inspiring landscape I'm surrounded by. I don't often think about such things, but when my time has ended and my ashes are ready to be returned to Mother Earth, I think this is the place I want to spend my eternity.
On my drive into Yachats last night, I noticed an interesting "tourist trap" a few miles south of Cape Perpetua, the Sea Lion Caves. As I'm technically a tourist on this trip, I decided to check it out.
As I park, I note a number of people leaning on the wooden rail and looking (some with binoculars). Curious, I decide to take a look and I'm gifted my first view of a whale in the wild. The spouting water from the California Gray Whale's blowhole leaves no doubt. I'm already happy with my choice to stop at this diversion. I had hoped to see some whales on this trip and luckily I just did. While I'm a long distance away from the majestic creature, it doesn't diminish the moment. I hope some day we are able to communicate with these intelligent creatures, but until then, I will just marvel at them.
After purchasing my ticket, I walk out onto the observation deck and note a party of sea lions playing in the waters far below. While they may not be lounging in the cave below, I at least got to see them having fun.
I then take a elevator down some two-hundred feet into the cave. The elevator empties into a developed section of the cave, complete with educational placards about the geology and ecology of the cave, as well as numerous paragraphs about the two species of sea lions that generally inhabit the cave in the winter and spring. In the center of the area, the remains of an ancient sea lion have been roped off for posterity. Apparently, this skeleton was found by the human discoverers of the cave.
To the left from the elevator, the cave opens up into a huge chamber, which from pictures around the facility, appears to be the primary 'hang out' for the sea lions when the season is right. However at this time, the auditorium-sized room is empty of the playful marine-mammals, save one. On a small, but rocky island in the middle of the room, a lone sea lion lies resting. I'm forced to wonder if the lonely occupant is suffering in some way. While she moves around a bit, she remains on the rock the entire time of my visit. Perhaps she is ill or injured and unable to join her friends. Perhaps she is old and simply wants a quiet rest. Whatever her story, I hope she is okay. I'm saddened to think of this being her final resting place. Get well, my friend - get well soon!
The area around Yachats, including Thor's Well, is part of the Cape Perpetua Scenic Area, as designated by the National Forest Service. Before leaving the area, I had to explore the area a bit. While the town and area does have a slight feel of "touristy", the natural wonder of cannot be denied.
Leaving Thor's Well, I head up to the visitor's center only to find it closed until 10:00 AM (an hour from now). With that disappointment, I next head just up the road to the Devil's Churn. I park the jeep and head down a short trail and long flight of stairs to arrive at another feature of ancient lava flow hitting the cold, salty sea. Here a long channel has been carved by the waves into the volcanic rock. As each wave rolls in, the briny sea water splashes through the narrow channel with a demonic roar. I maneuver on the uneven surface, fully aware that a fall into the cold channel would likely be the end of me, as there is no visible way to escape.
I make my way around the cape arriving at the other side, which opens up into a small cove. Here an army of seagulls scour and quickly devour any sea-life that is washed upon the rocky and sandy shore.
After driving a bit South on highway 101, I stop for a view of a beautiful lighthouse. I had passed this lighthouse, fully ablaze, last night on my drive into Yachats. It was quite a site to behold and as I read, can be scene for up to 21 miles out to sea, warning passing ships of the rock coast.
As I continue to explore, I can't help but think of how beautiful the town of Yachats and the surrounding area are to my eyes. There's a small-town beauty to this place and I could easily see myself retiring here or somewhere like it.
After getting a good night's sleep in a quaint little coastal hotel in the town of Yachats, Oregon, I woke early and started searching for a nearby natural wonder known as Thor's Well. The curvy road follows the shoreline and overlooks the Pacific Ocean. This early in the morning, thick fog rolls in and blankets the area.
I park my new jeep and take in a deep breath of the briny sea air. While the trail is labeled Spouting Horn and Cook's Chasm, I'm pretty sure by my maps that my destination is here as well. In this section of the coast, ancient volcanic lava flows met with the cold sea and formed a number of interesting rocky terrain. The feature I was looking for is a product of this meeting.
Thor's Well is reported to be a deep cylindrical hole in the lava flow that hollows on the bottom. As the waves role in slightly before through slightly after high tide, the well empties and fills with each surge of blue sea water. As I walk out onto the lava flow, I note a couple of photographers and once I see their subject, I know I'm in the correct place. They quickly confirm my suspicion. They further mention that high tide is approaching in just a few minutes, which prompts me to wait.
As I watch nature in action, I'm amazed at the feature. It seems all sides of the inner cylinder are covered with mussels. The timing of the undulating sea seems crucial in determining how high the water will splash above the well. If the timing of the wave is just right, it will not break before hitting the shore, which will cause a much higher rise in the well.
I stay and observe for thirty minutes or so, before walking back to the jeep and heading for my next destination. This is truly an amazing site and I'm lucky to have been able to witness it.
For some time, I have been planning to visit the Oregon Coast and take in some of the wonders, but on the way, I decided to revisit a cave tour that I had taken several years ago to the Lake Shasta Caverns. It's a commercial operation, but the caverns, as I recall, are magnificent and so I decided to take the slight detour to see them again.
Purchasing my ticket shortly before the next tour, I had time for a quick bite from the gift shop snack bar. Soon, though, the boarding call came over the intercom and I along with the other dozen or so tourists stepped aboard the small ferry. The trip to the cavern requires a ferry road across the McCloud Arm of Lake Shasta and then a shuttle bus ride up the steep mountainside to the cave entrance. It's a harrowing journey for anyone scared of heights, but the cave makes it all worth while.
Once in the cave, our tour guide took us through the man-made passageway to the first chamber, the Discovery Room. There she began to describe many of the calcite and limestone formations that would be found in the cave. This first chamber has examples of most types, including helictites, which are made when water pressure forces the mineral deposits out of fissures in the rock in small explosions.
The tour continues into the Cathedral Room, with the ceiling towering far above us and each of the walls covered with numerous formations, such as curtains and cave bacon. Apparently, discover of the cave was made through a small passage near the top of a side chamber way back in 1878.
From there, we head down to the basement room, which lakes many calcite deposits and appears dry compared to the rest of the cave, apparently, this section had been sealed off for eons and little to know ground water seeps into this section.
As we visit the final room, we note a number of small brown bats fluttering around once the lights are turned on. In the distance, we can see the top of the ladder that early cave explorers used to enter this room. The guide describes a story related to several names written on the cave wall near the ladder. Apparently, the named individuals were successful in an antiquated initiation ritual for a local fraternity over a century ago. Their success marked for posterity on the cave wall.
After exiting the cave through the originally entrance, we make our way down a number of steps back to the shuttle bus. We thank the guide and make our way down the mountain and then again across the lake. While far from the largest cave system I have visited, it is an interesting stop and worthy of your time should you ever find yourself in the area.
My buddy Nick and his family recently moved back to Reno after a couple of years in Austin, Texas. He's told me several times that during his time in Texas he wasn't able to get much hiking in and so I decided to take the opportunity to get him out this morning. We wanted to start with something relatively easy and he suggested hiking to and around the Angora Lakes near South Lake Tahoe. Never having visited these small, but popular alpine lakes, I was excited to see something new.
When we hit the trail a bit after 9:00 AM, the trail head parking lot was already nearly full. This appears to be a really, really popular area. The trail leaves the lot and starts quickly uphill. We soon see the first of the three lakes to our left, followed quickly by the larger Lower Angora Lake. Finally after 3/4 of a mile, we reach the jewel of the set, Upper Angora Lake.
The lake has a number of cabins constructed around it and the beach below us and to our right is crowded with people enjoying the final days of summer. Nick and I, along with his four-legged friend Sam, make our way around the left side of the lake through the cabins area. The trail quickly disappears in and among a hillside covered with large granite boulders. Normally, I would look forward to finding a path through the scramble, but the extra consideration of Sam makes it a bit more challenging. He's a very active and fit pooch, but at 35ish pounds and on four legs, he's not able to navigate over boulders of this size very easily.
We eventually reach a point where we are unable to see a path for Sam (our ourselves) to continue safely and decide to take a rest before heading back the way we came. We choose a slightly different path for our return. On the way we we notice a number of old campsites, one of which is littered with a number of tin beer cans (which ceased production in the late 70's or early 80's). This has obviously been a popular get away for a long time. After reaching the car, I check the distance on my app and find that we covered a bit over two miles. Not a bad start to getting my friend back into the trail life.
