Originally, Deanna (the meetup group organizer) had planned to hike the Rubicon Trail today, but with an incoming winter storm, she changed it to Seven Lakes Mountain, which is just a few miles north of Reno. Driving up to our meeting spot, the clouds darkened and freezing rain started to hit my windshield. I went ahead and met the few brave souls willing to rough it in this weather and we decided to move the location once again to Jumbo Falls, south of Reno. Radar showed that the area was clear of precipitation.
Driving down to the trail head, we geared up and started down the jeep trails on foot. Earlier in the spring, I did a fair amount of exploring to find this waterfall and became somewhat familiar with this maze of jeep and dirt bike trails. This time though, we were on foot as opposed to off-roading it. Leaving the trail for a short distance when we discovered we were on the wrong one, we crossed a muddy wash by hanging onto a barb-wire fence. I was lucky enough to find the one soft spot under the fence and as my foot sank six to eight inches into the mud, I grabbed for whatever I could to keep from falling. Unfortunately, I grabbed the barbs and cut my hands up a little bit - nothing serious.
As we continued on, a light sleet began to fall. Undeterred, we bundled up a bit and continued on, but as the precipitation began to come down a bit harder and the dirt trail became more muddy and slippery, we decided to only go as far as Eagle Rock, which is a column basalt formation in route to the falls. Like the much more famous Devils Postpile, south of Yosemite, volcanic activity has created a pile of hexagonal columns rising from the ground. I've seen several of these formations over the years and they are all quite interesting.
Making the turn, we started back towards the trail head. With the mud building up on our shoes and the cold wind blowing through us, we quickly covered the distance and arrived at the parking lot to dry off and warm up. Though not as far as we had intended, the 8.1 miles we covered still provided a decent workout, though the weather made it a little uncomfortable. Not a problem for us die-hards.
Another day, another hike. This time, I joined the meetup group for a trip up Smith Peak overlooking Davis Lake, north of Portola, CA. Meeting the group just north of Reno, we carpooled up to the Davis Creek Recreational Area. Originally, we had intended to circumnavigate a large portion of the lake, but one of the hikers suggested hiking up to the fire tower on top of Smith Peak, which overlooks the lake. We all agreed and after arriving at a pull off area on the forest road, we hit the trail.
The trail itself is actually just a service road, which made for easy going. The incline was noticeable, but not overbearing. As we made our way up the mountain, I noticed some smoke rising from the hillside above us. I left the group to investigate and found a couple of smoldering piles of loose brush. I guessed that the forest service had been doing a small controlled burn in the area yesterday. With little to no risk of it flaming up and spreading, I returned to the trail and double-timed it to catch up to my group.
As usual, the group starts to fragment a bit as some of the faster hikers, including myself, break away from the group. It's not so much about racing up the hill as it is wanting to get a great workout in from the trip. No one seems to mind though and when we reach the top, we all take a few minutes to grab a snack and absorb some of the views. Unfortunately, the fire tower is locked and we are unable to walk around the balcony as I have been able to do at some locations.
To the east, we can take in the full measure of Davis Lake, though years of drought have affected the water level significantly. A view north, gives us a nice view of the snow-covered Lassen Peak. I suspect Mount Shasta would be visible from there too, but looking at the map, I think it is hidden behind Lassen from this angle. Finally, to the west, we are offered an outstanding view of the Sierra Buttes.
After a short time, we make our way back down the mountain, but as we had kept a really good pace both up and down the mountain, we decide that we aren't quite done for the day. After a hike just short of 9 miles to the fire tower, we decide to drive a short distance to the lake to explore the shoreline and visit a bald eagle nest that Deanna had discovered on a recent photography trip to the area.
The drive to the trail head is not much more than a mile and as we park and head across the road, we cross over Lake Davis Damn, which controls flow into the tiny thread of Big Grizzly Creek below. As we enter the pine needle carpeted floor of the forest, we struggle a little bit to find the trail, but eventually do and then start making our way around the fingers of the shrinking lake. In the distance, we can see the large eagle nest in the very top of the tallest tree on a small peninsula sticking out into the lake waters. We make our way around to the area below the nest, hoping to see the majestic residents. Once we arrive, we begin searching the skies and finally spot a pair of our national bird in the distance. They soar over us, most likely looking for food in the lake and forest below, but never actually land in their nest, though we wait for a good twenty minutes or so. As the eagles move onto better fishing grounds (with less spectators), we decide to head back to the cars.
Combing the long hike up to Smith Peak with this short trek around the lake, we put in about 10.4 miles today. Not bad. As we prepare to depart, we discuss the possibility of hiking a much longer hike around the lake in the near future . . . or perhaps a snowshoe adventure.
Hidden Valley is an area on the eastern side of Reno. Tucked away behind Rattlesnake Mountain, a number of neighborhoods have grown up here in over the last few years. The hills above the residential areas are truly representative of Nevada's terrain with a few steep inclines. I have hiked this area many times over the years and even use it as for some training routes to get in shape for bigger trips, but when I saw one of the meetup groups was planning a hike, I thought it might be nice to put some miles in with some friends and maybe even summit a couple of peaks above Hidden Valley that I hadn't visited before.
Eighteen of us met at Hidden Valley Regional Park at 8 AM and quickly hit the trail. Our first destination was Road-to-Nowhere, which I have visited a few times, most recently in the spring. Though, we took a shorter, but much steeper route. There are very few switchbacks as we climb from the valley floor at about 4,200' to the top tall rock cairn at the top of the mountain, which reaches about 6,100'. The view of Reno from up here is always outstanding, with Mount Rose and Slide Mountain in the distance.
Regrouping, we head back down to the trail along the saddle and pass by some wild mustangs grazing nearby. One more reason I love living here. There is such a diversity of life all around us, even here in the high desert.
Following the ridge line, we follow the ups and downs of the small peaks and saddles, some of which are extremely steep, but we eventually reach a jeep trail leading up to another tall peak that overlooks I80 looking East. A few of my fellow hikers slip on the loose gravel and dirt, but luckily no one is hurt. The jeep trail is incredibly steep, but we reach the top to find another tall rock cairn constructed in years past.
Taking a few minutes to rest and get a quick snack, we survey the landscape in front of us. From this elevation, we can see interstate 80 far below us snaking alongside the Truckee River. Soon though, we are back on the trail and head down the mountain. We take a different route on the way back, but quickly loose the trail. Scouting around, we re-find it below us and must scramble down a steep hillside layered with tiny gravel. It's a little challenging, but all make it without incident. The remaining portion of the trail follows a small wash before finally dumping us out in the neighborhoods near the park. A short road walk finds us back at the cars.
As we put on more comfortable shoes, load our cars, and say our goodbyes, I review the mileage of day - just under 8 miles. Not a bad morning.
Early this year, I read about another collection of rock art just above Sparks in the hills above the Pah Rah Range. In the spring, I had done some exploration in the jeep, but I was unable to find any sign of the ancient Native American carvings, but I was not deterred. However with reports of high rattlesnake populations in that area, I wanted to wait until the late fall or winter to take my next shot and finding them, since I intended to do it on foot. When I mentioned to my plans to my buddy, Bill, he was more than ready to join the adventure.
We met up at 8 AM and drove to Golden Eagle Regional Park, which is home to a lot of our local softball tournaments. We parked our jeeps and started up the rocky hills on foot. I was hoping we would encounter some signs of a trail, but unfortunately, we never found one. That's not so much a problem, as we are both pretty capable hikers and navigators, but the lava rock strewn terrain was really hard on the ankles and feet.
Climbing to the first ridge above the park and then the one above that, we make a line for our intended destination, which is at the northern end of the highest ridge, but below a medium-sized peak towering over the local landscape. The rocky grasslands go on as far as the eye can see in all directions and paint the landscape a light golden yellow, with the occasionally orange-brown boulder large enough to stick up higher than the grass.
On the way, we encounter our share of wildlife. The first is an extremely young bull snake stretched out on a rock. I might have missed the little guy in the tall grass, but I nearly stepped on him. As it got below freezing overnight in these hills and has only reached the mid-forties by the time we reached this point, the little guy was still frigid and didn't even move to acknowledge our presence. Almost immediately after encountering the young snake, we raise our heads to see a buck and two doe off in the distance. The look back at us to determine if we are a threat and then continue on up the hillside. As we follow the topography of the hills, we weave around above a small canyon only to see a heard of antelope racing away from us. I can't help but think of the song "Home on the Range", which talks about a place where the deer and the antelope play. Apparently, the songwriter was talking about this place.
One saddle to one peak and then on to the next, we keep searching the rocks for any sign of figures carved into the desert varnish. I convince Bill to keep going for a bit further, and then finally, I stumble across a single panel low on an outcropping. It's fairly typical of most petroglyphs of this region, but a couple of the figures are slightly odd to me. I have to wonder if they were modern additions, but it's impossible for me to tell.
Finding the first panel only inspires us to keep looking, but after a couple of more saddles and peaks, we finally decide to turn back and head for the park. As we aren't looking for more rock art on the way back with any real dedication, we do our best to head straight for the jeeps. The way is somewhat treacherous as we cross rock flow after rock flow, but we eventually make it back covering just over 10 miles on this rocky terrain. Only finding the single panel was a bit disappointing, but at least we found that one and saw some beautiful creatures along the way. Perhaps, I'll return again at some point and look for more.
I always hate winter because of the limited sunlight after I leave work. Since we are still a week or so away from adjusting our clocks, I decided to head out for a little after-work hike. The nearby Huffaker Hills offers a nearby trail system, which have often used for training purposes in the past. I have hiked this network of trails literally dozens of times. By combining various loops in the park, it's easy to knock anywhere between 2 and 10 miles, with several opportunities for some pretty steep climbs. As I only have a couple of hours of daylight left though, I opt for a specific location within the park, but for which the trails only take me a portion of the way - Big Horn Mountain.
Leaving the trail head, I put on my head phones to catch up on a couple of my favorite podcasts. I wouldn't normally wear headphones while hiking, but as I know these trails like the back of my hand the danger is minimal. The trail heads directly for the southern-most of the Twin Peaks, which taking from another angle offers a really great climb, but this is not my path today. Taking the slightly easier trail to the top, I stop for a moment to admire the rock fort that someone has built many years ago for reasons unknown. If nothing else, it always makes for a good wind break when I'm up here.
In the distance, I can see my destination. From this point, I am forced to leave the trail and scramble down the rocky, golden-grass covered hillside and across the saddle to the northern face of the small Big Horn Mountain. Once I reach the saddle, I have to start the steepest part of today's short trek as I scramble up the worn coyote trails along the steep face. It's not terribly far, but it is extremely steep and when I reach the top, I quickly find what I'm looking for. In years past, someone or a group of someones collected stones from the mountaintop and created a large pile in the shape of a big horn sheep petroglyph. For anyone familiar with the ancient Native America rock art of Nevada, the form is unmistakable. While I have never seen one of the magnificent animals in the northern part of the state, I know they are around and I have seen several in other regions of Nevada. Before the settlers populated the vast high desert of Nevada, these sheep were probably far more populous and the Paiutes, Shoshones, and the tribes that came before them chipped an artistic version of the animal into many of the desert stones all of Nevada. Why this particular pile was created, is anyone's guess, but it is quite a site to see due to it's large size. It's approximately 40' tall by 50' feet long. So large, in fact, that it can clearly be seen on Google Earth.
After piling a few rocks and creating a makeshift platform to get above the creating for a few shots, I carefully make my way back down the hill and head back to the jeep. It was only about 2.2 miles this evening, but with all of the steep uphill rock scrambling, it was still a decent work out. If you are interested in finding the image on Google Earth, search for the coordinates 39°27'26.6"N 119°44'56.2"W. Switch to satellite view and zoom in until you see the unmistakable shape.
39°27'26.6"N 119°44'56.2"W
The plan was to hike up Mt. Tallac today with Deanna's Meetup group, but with high winds predicted on the ridge-tops around Lake Tahoe, the decision was made to move today's hike to the Luther-Fay Trail just east of Minden, NV. Surprisingly, I had never heard of this trail, which is unusual since I tend to research all of the nearby trails. That said, the adventure of a new trail with the good folks in this group is always a good time.
After carpooling to the trail head, the fifteen of us started up the network of trails, but luckily there is ample signage, a couple of maps along the way, and all of the trails pretty much rejoin before heading up the final part of the canyon. As always with this group, we make pretty good time. The trail is easy at first, but soon starts some sections of steep uphill across pulverized granite. The company is always good though and makes up for it.
While the group as a whole are all strong hikers, I tend to be among the front of the pack on most trips. In this case, I had to do a bit of trail finding as we moved up a small ridge almost four miles into the trail. The trail somewhat abruptly ends here. While a fellow-hiker and I await the rest of the group catching up, we take in some of the magnificent views of this canyon just ahead of us and below the towering Freel Peak, the tallest peak in the Tahoe Basin. At 10,886' it towers over everything else nearby and the canyon between our current location and the peak itself is full of color at this time of year.
As the rest of the group catches up, we do some rock scrambling a bit further up the canyon and eventually decide to stop for a quick break. While we wait, I snap a few more pictures of the magnificent color pallet spread out before us in this canyon. As the melt of a recent snowfall pours over small waterfalls at the base of the canyon, we watch the moon set behind the high ridge above us.
After our short rest, we head back to the trail head. The trail down is much easier, as downhill on pulverized granite always is. We make it back in about half of the time it took us to get to the top of the canyon. Total distance covered was just over 8.7 miles and the group decides to cap it off with a meal and a beer at Red's Old 395 Grill in Carson City.
A few months ago, I attended a lecture about an endangered fish species that survived in a remote water hole in the middle of the Nevada desert. The water hole is called Devils Hole and is contained within the Ash Meadows Wildlife Refuge Area, a detached portion of Death Valley National Park. The fish is called the Devils Hole Pupfish, and it is critically endangered, as the species only exists in this very specific place. It is closely related to other pupfish in and around Death Valley, but being cut off from their cousins some 25,000 years ago, the specimen here have followed their own slightly different evolutionary path.
As I was traveling from Las Vegas to Reno on my way home from the Wave and as Devils Hole is only a slight detour, I decided to pay these tiny desert dwellers a visit. The drive takes me through the open desert once more before arriving at the heavily fenced site. Apparently, intruders have damaged the hyper-fragile environment in the past and in an attempt to protect the species from extinction, tall barbed wire fences and gates have been installed all around Devils Hole, including the small mountain behind it.
I pull up and start walking towards the site. It's clear that accommodations have been made for the curious, as a tunnel has been built through the fencing, but protected still from anyone entering the area. It allows me to get close enough to get some pictures of the site at least.
From the lecture I heard and from my own research afterwards, it seems Devils Hole is actually connected to a truly massive underground aquifer. Because of the size and interconnected nature of this aquifer, it is highly sensitive to earthquakes - anywhere in the world. There are reports from a few years ago that a large earthquake in Indonesia caused the water in this small pool to splash six or so feet up the face of the rocks. Of course, this is bad news for the tiny inhabitants who live in the top few feet of the water and who are completely dependent upon a small ledge jutting out into the water for both their food supply and nesting area.
Unfortunately, I can only get pictures from a distance and cannot see the fish below. I take a few shots and move on to another section of Ash Meadows, where a closely related species is visible and not in such critical danger of going extinct. I take a few pictures as best I can before heading out. My time here is short and I quickly hit the road again, but I'm glad I stopped to pay the 200-ish remaining members of the Devils Hold Pupfish species a short visit.
