Yesterday Ron Gould and I visited the North Fork of the North Fork American (NFNFAR). Leaving I-80 at the Blue Canyon exit, we followed the road down towards the tiny settlement until a road forked left near some houses. This quickly loses its pavement and becomes rather raw and dusty; in a quarter-mile a fork is reached, and the right hand leads down to a crossing of the railroad. An almost immediate right turn follows; this is the road to Lost Camp, a hydraulic mining town which flourished briefly in the late 1850s.
For a number of years I have urged Tahoe National Forest (TNF) to try to acquire the private lands at Lost Camp. Old patented mining claims span about 590 acres of ridge and canyon, with many old mines, ditches, cabin sites, and trails. Chief among these last is the China Trail, which leads from Lost Camp down to the NFNFAR. This lovely old trail, graded for mules, once crossed the NFNFAR and climbed Sawtooth Ridge to meet other trails, such as the Burnett Canyon Trail, and the main Sawtooth Trail. However, timber harvests over the past fifty years have made for a welter of roads, log landings, and skid trails along the north slopes of Sawtooth Ridge, and that part of the China Trail has been obliterated.
However, TNF has (as of yet) expressed no interest in Lost Camp or the China Trail, which was once a formal part of the TNF trail system. Those were the good old days. And now, a major timber harvest, verging upon a clearcut, has been approved for Lost Camp, including helicopter logging in Blue Canyon, Texas Canyon, and Fulda Canyon, where the logger's axe has never rung, and giant trees stood safe for centuries. The uplands between these canyons have been logged before, in places, several times over. But the canyons were always too deep and too steep for timber harvests.
The logging has not started, yet. I'm afraid it will be rather drastic in its impact upon the whole area, and upon Lost Camp in particular.
What remains of the China Trail is very nice: a somewhat short trail, little more than a mile long, which switches back and forth within the shelter of a rich forest, down to the river. The forest mixes Canyon Live Oak with Douglas Fir and occasional Ponderosa and Sugar pines. As one descends, the interesting California Nutmeg, Torreya californica, appears. This usually small conifer can easily be mistaken for a fir or a Douglas Fir; it has exceptionally stout, sharp, large needles, and a strong smell, if its needles are bruised.
The NFNFAR has a much smaller flow than the North Fork proper, but for all that is not crossed easily. Well--it can be forded in many places--and boulders sometimes align to offer a series of hops, hops which grade into serious jumps of six feet or more. Our plan was to follow the river downstream, towards a cliffy area we had spied from Sawtooth Ridge last year. Those cliffs promised a gorge, and deep pools.
The route downstream involves crossing the river several times. In the upper reach, near the China Trail, we were amazed by the clumps of Indian Rhubarb, preternatural plants from outer space, which have round, coarsely-toothed leaves fully two feet in diameter, atop raspy stalks three or four feet high. They grow in clumps, from reddish, sinuous rootstocks, a couple of inches in diameter, which cling to the water-scoured rocks at river level, like masses of intertwined snakes.
Large masses of Creek Dogwood lined the banks in places, with some White Alders and willows, and an almost surprisingly uniform forest of Canyon Live Oak and Douglas Fir rising up and up and up on both sides of the canyon. Incense Cedar was present in small numbers, and Torreya (we saw some nearly two feet in diameter, giants in their terms), and more rarely, Ponderosa and Sugar pines. Bigleaf Maples and California Bay Laurel were also present. Springs broke from the bedrock above the river in places, supporting lush eruptions of Giant Chain Ferns, largest of native ferns, with fronds upwards of six feet high, growing in large clumps of many erect fronds.
Tiger Swallowtail butterflies were hovering over the river, all along the way.
Soon the character of the river changed, with gigantic boulders clogging the channel. All the boulders were of purely local origins, the Shoo Fly Complex metasediments into which the canyon is incised, strata tipped up on edge, mainly metasandstone, with some slate, much in the way of slaty structure everywhere, and occasional small folds in evidence.
The river often runs at right angles with the strike of the near-vertical strata, and small variations in the hardness or the massiveness of the rock have lead to attractively ribbed clifflets, bordering the channel in many places.
The gradient of the river steepened considerably, with many small waterfalls among the giant boulders. At one point there was a lovely round pool below a waterfall, twenty feet across, with an active Ouzel nest under an overhang, eight feet above the water. Around a mile down, a castle or pinnacle of stone rears two hundred feet or so from the river; on old winch is bolted to a tree, and a large engine is nearby, and various cables snake along both banks. Gold mining, from the 1960s, or somewhat earlier.
Continuing down, the going got a bit tougher, the boulders, larger yet, and we reached and followed the river around the base of a huge castle-like cliff, absolutely dwarfing the castle upstream. We could see downstream along the west base of the castle. More huge boulders, more steep gradient. The day had grown hot and every scrap of shade was precious. We decided to call a halt and head back up the river.
Steve Hunter, who has been exploring these canyons for fifty years, tells me that we stopped just short of a large mining camp with the remains of several cabins, which dates, he thinks, to the 1960s.
In the afternoon sun, the hopping of a thousand boulders, all tending uphill, was real work, and when at last we turned a corner into shade, beside a long, long, very deep pool, we stopped to swim. This pool is the site of a major camp along the river, on the south bank, where slaty slabs of Shoo Fly have been stacked into an elaborate fireplace surrounded by massive thrones. Seating for seven, at least. Somewhat minor garbage was scattered about; a thing like a tent, and a zippered bag, and some bottles.
After swimming we lazed around and I took photographs of the long pool. I had just put my camera away when Ron exclaimed, "Look! An otter is swimming right towards us!" And so it was, its wet sleek head barely out of the water. As I fumbled my camera back out of my pack, it reached a narrow slate rib jutting into the pool fifty feet away, and rose half out of the water to peer at us. I took numerous photographs, but in my haste, had the camera set incorrectly, and none of the photos came out. It looks as though my shutter speed had fallen below 1/60th of a second, *and* I had inadvertently activated the digital zoom, which I hate and never use unless by mistake.
Well. It was great to see the otter. It messed around the lower end of the pool for perhaps fifteen minutes, occasionally swimming back to its safe little slate rib to peer at us, then turning back to its diving and circling farther down. Finally it dove, and we saw it no more.
The hike up the trail was slow but relatively easy. It had been a great day on the NFNFAR.
Showing posts with label North Fork of the North Fork American. Show all posts
Showing posts with label North Fork of the North Fork American. Show all posts
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Sunday, May 2, 2004
Lost Camp THP approved
At long last, CDF (CA Department of Forestry) has concluded its evaluation of the Siller Bros. lumber company Timber Harvest Plan (THP) at Lost Camp.
Near Blue Canyon, and south of the railroad, is the historic townsite of Lost Camp. An Eocene-age (ca. 55 million years old) river channel is preserved here, with a body of gold-bearing gravels, similar in age and nature to those at Dutch Flat and Gold Run. In the late 1850s, miners swarmed to the place, a town was built, and Allen Towle of Dutch Flat built a sawmill, anticipating brisk demand. However, the boom swiftly subsided, and but a few miners remained. One of these was Gold Run's Osmyn Harkness, who patented a claim on hydraulic mining ground there in 1872. Later, a hard-rock claim was patented on a quartz vein in adjacent Fulda Canyon, and was worked as the Red Rock Mine. Also, a "tailings claim" was located in Blue Canyon itself, below the Harkness mine.
Trails led away from Lost Camp west into Blue Canyon, east to Monumental Creek, southwest down the Lost Camp Divide (between Blue canyon and the North Fork of the North Fork American River (NFNFAR)) and south, across the NFNFAR, to Sawtooth Ridge and Texas Hill. This last became known as the China Trail.
These several patented claims eventually came under the ownership of Auburn's Wendell Robie, who wished to preserve the historic trails of Placer County. Later, Robie, or his estate, sold to Siller Bros. lumber company. This company is headquartered in the Marysville-Yuba City area, and owns lands scattered across this part of the Sierra, including one or two parcels in Green Valley, on the main North Fork.
In 2003 Siller Bros. filed a THP on its 590 acres at Lost Camp. Since Lost Camp lies within odd-numbered Section 23, I had mistakenly thought it belonged to Sierra Pacific Industries, another lumber company, and had written letters over recent years to Tahoe National Forest (TNF), asking them to try to purchase Section 23, to protect the townsite and the China Trail.
The Lost Camp THP took me by surprise. I went to CDF offices in Auburn and obtained a copy of the lengthy document. The public comment period had already obstensibly passed, but CDF itself had raised some objections to the THP, and while these were being addressed, public comment was still allowed.
Several of us on this email list wrote letters to CDF about the Lost Camp THP. Ron Gould and I explored the more easterly parts of the 590 acres, in Fulda Canyon. Some letters were also sent to Siller Bros., asking them to defer timber harvests there while attempts were made to get the lands there into the TNF "queue" of land acquisition targets. Siller Bros. did not reply.
The Lost Camp THP calls for a rather severe timber harvest. Three canyons cross the 590 acres: Blue Canyon, Texas Canyon, and Fulda Canyon. Within these canyons, broadly speaking, timber has never been harvested, and some truly gigantic Douglas Fir grow in Fulda Canyon, for instance. The THP called for helicopter logging of these three canyons, while ordinary tractor (bulldozer) logging would take place on the intervening uplands, as, for instance, the site of Lost Camp itself.
The severity of the THP is such that, in the upland areas, it amounts to a virtual clearcut, with two to three "overstory" trees per acre left uncut.
It should be noted that within the canyons, where helicopter logging will occur, there will be relatively little disruption of soils. These areas of old-growth timber are too steep for bulldozer logging and are essentially pristine. The steep slopes make for thin soils and the occasional pockets of deeper soils support pockets of heavy timber. Since, individually, these stands of old-growth Douglas Fir etc. are less than 20 acres in extent, they do not fall under CDF's definition of old-growth timber. Hence the extra protections afforded old-growth timber cannot apply here.
Our comments about the THP were rendered less effective, because we had no access to the confidential archeological assessment of the area. However, the concerns we raised, about the townsite, the mining ditches, and the China Trail, caused CDF to make its own on-site evaluation of the archeological resources there.
CDF's Official Response to our concerns is a 24-page document. It also comprises official approval of the (slightly modified) THP.
The main change to the THP is that plans for a major road and stream crossing in Texas Canyon have been dropped. Also, to preserve esthetics, care will be taken to lop logging slash down to within 18 inches of the ground in a zone extending 100 feet to either side of the Lost Camp Road. And finally, care will be taken to remove slash from the course of the China Trail.
The bottom line is that the Lost Camp THP has been approved, and that Siller Bros., by not replying to our letters asking whether they would be willing sellers of the 590 acres, seem, at this point, to *not* be willing sellers.
The Official Response and the THP itself make for somewhat difficult reading, difficult, and frustrating. I raised the issue of the destruction of historic trails by logging, for instance, and in response, CDF provided the pertintent portion of the Forest Practice Rules, which essentially ignore historic trails. However, it looks as though the China Trail itself will be protected from undue damage in this timber harvest.
Siller Bros. owns various lands which are important to the future of our trails and our wildlands. They were on the verge of helicopter logging their Green Valley lands in 1976. They also have minor holdings in the Bear River canyon along the line of an old narrow-gauge railroad which makes a fine trail. I wonder whether we might not make a better effort to engage Siller Bros. in a dialogue about these lands. Perhaps they might become willing sellers, in some cases.
Near Blue Canyon, and south of the railroad, is the historic townsite of Lost Camp. An Eocene-age (ca. 55 million years old) river channel is preserved here, with a body of gold-bearing gravels, similar in age and nature to those at Dutch Flat and Gold Run. In the late 1850s, miners swarmed to the place, a town was built, and Allen Towle of Dutch Flat built a sawmill, anticipating brisk demand. However, the boom swiftly subsided, and but a few miners remained. One of these was Gold Run's Osmyn Harkness, who patented a claim on hydraulic mining ground there in 1872. Later, a hard-rock claim was patented on a quartz vein in adjacent Fulda Canyon, and was worked as the Red Rock Mine. Also, a "tailings claim" was located in Blue Canyon itself, below the Harkness mine.
Trails led away from Lost Camp west into Blue Canyon, east to Monumental Creek, southwest down the Lost Camp Divide (between Blue canyon and the North Fork of the North Fork American River (NFNFAR)) and south, across the NFNFAR, to Sawtooth Ridge and Texas Hill. This last became known as the China Trail.
These several patented claims eventually came under the ownership of Auburn's Wendell Robie, who wished to preserve the historic trails of Placer County. Later, Robie, or his estate, sold to Siller Bros. lumber company. This company is headquartered in the Marysville-Yuba City area, and owns lands scattered across this part of the Sierra, including one or two parcels in Green Valley, on the main North Fork.
In 2003 Siller Bros. filed a THP on its 590 acres at Lost Camp. Since Lost Camp lies within odd-numbered Section 23, I had mistakenly thought it belonged to Sierra Pacific Industries, another lumber company, and had written letters over recent years to Tahoe National Forest (TNF), asking them to try to purchase Section 23, to protect the townsite and the China Trail.
The Lost Camp THP took me by surprise. I went to CDF offices in Auburn and obtained a copy of the lengthy document. The public comment period had already obstensibly passed, but CDF itself had raised some objections to the THP, and while these were being addressed, public comment was still allowed.
Several of us on this email list wrote letters to CDF about the Lost Camp THP. Ron Gould and I explored the more easterly parts of the 590 acres, in Fulda Canyon. Some letters were also sent to Siller Bros., asking them to defer timber harvests there while attempts were made to get the lands there into the TNF "queue" of land acquisition targets. Siller Bros. did not reply.
The Lost Camp THP calls for a rather severe timber harvest. Three canyons cross the 590 acres: Blue Canyon, Texas Canyon, and Fulda Canyon. Within these canyons, broadly speaking, timber has never been harvested, and some truly gigantic Douglas Fir grow in Fulda Canyon, for instance. The THP called for helicopter logging of these three canyons, while ordinary tractor (bulldozer) logging would take place on the intervening uplands, as, for instance, the site of Lost Camp itself.
The severity of the THP is such that, in the upland areas, it amounts to a virtual clearcut, with two to three "overstory" trees per acre left uncut.
It should be noted that within the canyons, where helicopter logging will occur, there will be relatively little disruption of soils. These areas of old-growth timber are too steep for bulldozer logging and are essentially pristine. The steep slopes make for thin soils and the occasional pockets of deeper soils support pockets of heavy timber. Since, individually, these stands of old-growth Douglas Fir etc. are less than 20 acres in extent, they do not fall under CDF's definition of old-growth timber. Hence the extra protections afforded old-growth timber cannot apply here.
Our comments about the THP were rendered less effective, because we had no access to the confidential archeological assessment of the area. However, the concerns we raised, about the townsite, the mining ditches, and the China Trail, caused CDF to make its own on-site evaluation of the archeological resources there.
CDF's Official Response to our concerns is a 24-page document. It also comprises official approval of the (slightly modified) THP.
The main change to the THP is that plans for a major road and stream crossing in Texas Canyon have been dropped. Also, to preserve esthetics, care will be taken to lop logging slash down to within 18 inches of the ground in a zone extending 100 feet to either side of the Lost Camp Road. And finally, care will be taken to remove slash from the course of the China Trail.
The bottom line is that the Lost Camp THP has been approved, and that Siller Bros., by not replying to our letters asking whether they would be willing sellers of the 590 acres, seem, at this point, to *not* be willing sellers.
The Official Response and the THP itself make for somewhat difficult reading, difficult, and frustrating. I raised the issue of the destruction of historic trails by logging, for instance, and in response, CDF provided the pertintent portion of the Forest Practice Rules, which essentially ignore historic trails. However, it looks as though the China Trail itself will be protected from undue damage in this timber harvest.
Siller Bros. owns various lands which are important to the future of our trails and our wildlands. They were on the verge of helicopter logging their Green Valley lands in 1976. They also have minor holdings in the Bear River canyon along the line of an old narrow-gauge railroad which makes a fine trail. I wonder whether we might not make a better effort to engage Siller Bros. in a dialogue about these lands. Perhaps they might become willing sellers, in some cases.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Burnett Canyon & the NFNFAR
Ron Gould and I drove up to Emigrant Gap and in on Forest Road 19 to the end of the pavement and hung a right onto Texas Hill Road. At the fork one stays left to Sawtooth Ridge and right to Texas Hill and the Burnett Canyon Trail.
This trail no longer shows on the "Big" TNF map and for good reason: it has been obliterated by logging, entirely on TNF lands in sections 20 and 29, T16N R12E, at both the north and south ends of the old trail.
Ron and I decided to check on the north-side trail. The trail crosses Burnett Canyon--a fairly major tributary of the NFNFAR-- on a nearly north-south line. Here gold miner/photographer Isaac Tibbetts Coffin resided from 1858 to 1864, in two cabins, one near the trail on the north side of Burnett Canyon, the other, to the west and north at Texas Hill, where a lode claim, tunnel, and blacksmith shop were located. Coffin and friends dug a ditch several miles long which winds down Burnett Canyon, high above the creek, in fact, the road on to Sawtooth Ridge crosses this little ditch.
We followed the ridge down to the south through an area which had seen two or three selective harvests, going back to the Towle Bros. lumber company, around 1900, and then the entire ridge-crest had been swept over by an army of bulldozers and other equipment in a classic "fuel load reduction" project. Every last little trace of the trail is gone. Well, on the way out, we did see one line of boulders, maybe ten feet long or so, red with age, suggesting the line of the trail.
Eventually we reached the edge of the "inner gorge" of Burnett Canyon. Here an old narrow-gauge railroad roadbed likely dating to the Towle Bros. contoured along. Below the railroad line there was no fuel load reduction, and suddenly the old trail appeared. It had survived at least two selective cuts on these steeper slopes, apparently without difficulty. Old blazes scarred many trees, and we even saw signs that TNF had maintained the trail, in the olden days of perhaps thirty years past, before timber harvests won out over nearly every other use of the Forest.
We dropped on down to the creek in light rain showers and admired the huge masses of gigantic-leaved Indian Rhubarb. The trail was easily seen across the creek, climbing up the far side, to where it was obliterated by a clearcut.
We struggled back up the steep trail to the fuel load reduction zone and found that we could actually follow the trail a full 100 feet north, before it disappeared beneath the general welter of the fuel reduction. When we at last topped out on the road, we stumbled upon the line of Coffin's ditch, just above, and figure that this was exactly where the Burnett Canyon Trail met the ditch. Coffin likely followed the ditch itself west to the Texas Hill cabin, whenever he went there from Burnett Canyon.
We drove on out to Sawtooth Ridge, far far out on the maze of logging roads, into the clearcuts in Section 35 near Helester Point, and were at last stopped by a fallen tree, and walked the rest of the way to there the steep descent to the NFNFAR is made. The day was cloudy and cool, but muggy, and we broke a good sweat picking our way down the steeps. At the river, we hustled on down to the Rawhide Dam, and then on beyond to the cabin site, and the wagon road. While lopping away in a snarl of deerbrush and small Douglas Fir, I was about to clear a mass of dead branches caught in the Douglas Fir I was lopping, when I realized in an instant of pure terror that my loppers were one inch from the head of a rattlesnake, a large snake which made the better part of the "dead branches" I was about to attack. The snake was moving its head and staring right at me. In the space of about one-tenth of a second this all dawned upon me and with a screech I jumped back a foot or two, and then, the enormity of it taking hold, I screamed profanities and made an all-out Superman-like dive into a mass of rotten oak branches another six feet back, right at Ron's feet. I smashed the dead branches with a satisfying crunch even as I examined them for the likelihood of still more vicious snakes.
The rattler stayed put and never rattled, except for the whisper, the ghost of a rattle, which sounded more like someone shuffling cards in the next room, or rather less than that. We duly photographed the healthy thing, partly wrapped around the little Douglas Fir at about two feet above the ground.
After that, there was a great swim in a large pool, no more lopping by the way, and then the long intricate scramble up the beautiful river, and the insanely steep climb up "the gully" to our logging road, 800 feet above the river, and then at last the truck, and the long long drive out. We were back down to Dutch Flat a little after sunset.
It is quite a shame that the North Fork of the North Fork never got Wild & Scenic River designation. Ron and I saw trees at river level marked with blue spray paint, and a lot of fresh flagging along the logging road above, so, there's every sign that the timber harvest on the SPI lands in Section 35 are not over let. And I am puzzled that they are allowed to log right down to the river. That area will be helicopter-yarded, so, that may be what allows them to do what is ordinarily not permitted, i.e., to harvest trees right from the banks of streams and rivers.
Maybe we should fire some letters off to William Schultz at CDF, asking that there be a buffer zone of no harvest, along this lovely river.
This trail no longer shows on the "Big" TNF map and for good reason: it has been obliterated by logging, entirely on TNF lands in sections 20 and 29, T16N R12E, at both the north and south ends of the old trail.
Ron and I decided to check on the north-side trail. The trail crosses Burnett Canyon--a fairly major tributary of the NFNFAR-- on a nearly north-south line. Here gold miner/photographer Isaac Tibbetts Coffin resided from 1858 to 1864, in two cabins, one near the trail on the north side of Burnett Canyon, the other, to the west and north at Texas Hill, where a lode claim, tunnel, and blacksmith shop were located. Coffin and friends dug a ditch several miles long which winds down Burnett Canyon, high above the creek, in fact, the road on to Sawtooth Ridge crosses this little ditch.
We followed the ridge down to the south through an area which had seen two or three selective harvests, going back to the Towle Bros. lumber company, around 1900, and then the entire ridge-crest had been swept over by an army of bulldozers and other equipment in a classic "fuel load reduction" project. Every last little trace of the trail is gone. Well, on the way out, we did see one line of boulders, maybe ten feet long or so, red with age, suggesting the line of the trail.
Eventually we reached the edge of the "inner gorge" of Burnett Canyon. Here an old narrow-gauge railroad roadbed likely dating to the Towle Bros. contoured along. Below the railroad line there was no fuel load reduction, and suddenly the old trail appeared. It had survived at least two selective cuts on these steeper slopes, apparently without difficulty. Old blazes scarred many trees, and we even saw signs that TNF had maintained the trail, in the olden days of perhaps thirty years past, before timber harvests won out over nearly every other use of the Forest.
We dropped on down to the creek in light rain showers and admired the huge masses of gigantic-leaved Indian Rhubarb. The trail was easily seen across the creek, climbing up the far side, to where it was obliterated by a clearcut.
We struggled back up the steep trail to the fuel load reduction zone and found that we could actually follow the trail a full 100 feet north, before it disappeared beneath the general welter of the fuel reduction. When we at last topped out on the road, we stumbled upon the line of Coffin's ditch, just above, and figure that this was exactly where the Burnett Canyon Trail met the ditch. Coffin likely followed the ditch itself west to the Texas Hill cabin, whenever he went there from Burnett Canyon.
We drove on out to Sawtooth Ridge, far far out on the maze of logging roads, into the clearcuts in Section 35 near Helester Point, and were at last stopped by a fallen tree, and walked the rest of the way to there the steep descent to the NFNFAR is made. The day was cloudy and cool, but muggy, and we broke a good sweat picking our way down the steeps. At the river, we hustled on down to the Rawhide Dam, and then on beyond to the cabin site, and the wagon road. While lopping away in a snarl of deerbrush and small Douglas Fir, I was about to clear a mass of dead branches caught in the Douglas Fir I was lopping, when I realized in an instant of pure terror that my loppers were one inch from the head of a rattlesnake, a large snake which made the better part of the "dead branches" I was about to attack. The snake was moving its head and staring right at me. In the space of about one-tenth of a second this all dawned upon me and with a screech I jumped back a foot or two, and then, the enormity of it taking hold, I screamed profanities and made an all-out Superman-like dive into a mass of rotten oak branches another six feet back, right at Ron's feet. I smashed the dead branches with a satisfying crunch even as I examined them for the likelihood of still more vicious snakes.
The rattler stayed put and never rattled, except for the whisper, the ghost of a rattle, which sounded more like someone shuffling cards in the next room, or rather less than that. We duly photographed the healthy thing, partly wrapped around the little Douglas Fir at about two feet above the ground.
After that, there was a great swim in a large pool, no more lopping by the way, and then the long intricate scramble up the beautiful river, and the insanely steep climb up "the gully" to our logging road, 800 feet above the river, and then at last the truck, and the long long drive out. We were back down to Dutch Flat a little after sunset.
It is quite a shame that the North Fork of the North Fork never got Wild & Scenic River designation. Ron and I saw trees at river level marked with blue spray paint, and a lot of fresh flagging along the logging road above, so, there's every sign that the timber harvest on the SPI lands in Section 35 are not over let. And I am puzzled that they are allowed to log right down to the river. That area will be helicopter-yarded, so, that may be what allows them to do what is ordinarily not permitted, i.e., to harvest trees right from the banks of streams and rivers.
Maybe we should fire some letters off to William Schultz at CDF, asking that there be a buffer zone of no harvest, along this lovely river.
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Lost Camp CDF Inspection
Rich Jenkins, CDF archeologist at Redding, called today, with questions about the exact location of the China Trail. He said a CDF field review of the Lost Camp project is imminent, that quite a few letters have been received, and, furthermore, he intimated that some highly placed political forces had been brought to bear, and that (as a resul) unusually high-echelon CDF personnel would attend the field review.
I have no idea what highly placed political forces were at work.
Rich also verified that the fascinating ore-cart runs out in Fulda Canyon are already in the RPF's archeological survey. He thought they were well within the helicopter-yarding zone, hence, relatively well-protected; for tractor yarding is notoriously disruptive of things like trails (and ore-cart runs).
He also asked about the location of the Chinese artifacts we saw out there at Lost Camp last Sunday.
My impression is that the CDF will require that care be taken to protect the China Trail. However, when I mentioned the flagging we saw, marked "trail," Rich thought that might have only marked a proposed bulldozer skid trail!
I offered to attend the CDF review and show the team the China Trail and all archeological sites I was familiar with, but he said that could not happen without the invitation of the landowner.
I have no idea what highly placed political forces were at work.
Rich also verified that the fascinating ore-cart runs out in Fulda Canyon are already in the RPF's archeological survey. He thought they were well within the helicopter-yarding zone, hence, relatively well-protected; for tractor yarding is notoriously disruptive of things like trails (and ore-cart runs).
He also asked about the location of the Chinese artifacts we saw out there at Lost Camp last Sunday.
My impression is that the CDF will require that care be taken to protect the China Trail. However, when I mentioned the flagging we saw, marked "trail," Rich thought that might have only marked a proposed bulldozer skid trail!
I offered to attend the CDF review and show the team the China Trail and all archeological sites I was familiar with, but he said that could not happen without the invitation of the landowner.
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Lost Camp THP
Tim Lasko sent this excellent letter to CDF re the Lost Camp THP:
*******
August 13, 2003
William Schultz
CDF
6105 Airport Road
Redding, CA 96002
Timber Harvest Plan 2-03-040-PLA
Dear Mr. Schultz,
I am very concerned about the Timber Harvest Plan 2-03-040-PLA. My concerns
are as follows:
á Many are unaware of this plan and have not had an opportunity to comment.
I ask that he public comment period be extended until the end of September.
á Historic sites, such as the town of Lost Camp and historic trails, such as
the China Trail may be destroyed or lost forever during this timber harvest.
I ask that a CDF archeologist, such as Dr. Garrett Fenenga conduct a formal
site survey to identify and protect these important sites and trails. More
information on these sites and trails is available from Russell Towle (Box
141, Dutch Flat, CA 95714, 530.389.2872)
á The erosion caused by the removal of timber and the construction of roads
and skid trails, particularly in the small tributaries of Blue Canyon and
Texas Canyon, may have a negative effect on the immediate area and the wild
and scenic qualities of the North Fork American River, located downstream.
The effects of sedimentation on the trout and the endangered Foothill
Yellow-legged Frogs are of great concern to me. I ask that all-new road and
skid trail construction be eliminated, or kept to an absolute minimum in
this harvest plan. I ask that all harvest east of the main Lost Camp Road be
yarded by helicopter.
á The removal of the larger trees forming the forest canopy will promote
future fuel loading. I ask that the larger canopy forming trees not be
removed in this harvest plan.
á I ask that all old growth trees, particularly on the East Side of Fulda
ridge not be disturbed.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely
Tim Lasko
*******
Let's hope that CDF will require modifications of this plan, which as it stands now is a virtual clear-cut (almost all large trees removed; many new roads, skid trails, landings). More letters would be a good thing. Joel Baiocchi wrote another good one.
*******
August 13, 2003
William Schultz
CDF
6105 Airport Road
Redding, CA 96002
Timber Harvest Plan 2-03-040-PLA
Dear Mr. Schultz,
I am very concerned about the Timber Harvest Plan 2-03-040-PLA. My concerns
are as follows:
á Many are unaware of this plan and have not had an opportunity to comment.
I ask that he public comment period be extended until the end of September.
á Historic sites, such as the town of Lost Camp and historic trails, such as
the China Trail may be destroyed or lost forever during this timber harvest.
I ask that a CDF archeologist, such as Dr. Garrett Fenenga conduct a formal
site survey to identify and protect these important sites and trails. More
information on these sites and trails is available from Russell Towle (Box
141, Dutch Flat, CA 95714, 530.389.2872)
á The erosion caused by the removal of timber and the construction of roads
and skid trails, particularly in the small tributaries of Blue Canyon and
Texas Canyon, may have a negative effect on the immediate area and the wild
and scenic qualities of the North Fork American River, located downstream.
The effects of sedimentation on the trout and the endangered Foothill
Yellow-legged Frogs are of great concern to me. I ask that all-new road and
skid trail construction be eliminated, or kept to an absolute minimum in
this harvest plan. I ask that all harvest east of the main Lost Camp Road be
yarded by helicopter.
á The removal of the larger trees forming the forest canopy will promote
future fuel loading. I ask that the larger canopy forming trees not be
removed in this harvest plan.
á I ask that all old growth trees, particularly on the East Side of Fulda
ridge not be disturbed.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely
Tim Lasko
*******
Let's hope that CDF will require modifications of this plan, which as it stands now is a virtual clear-cut (almost all large trees removed; many new roads, skid trails, landings). More letters would be a good thing. Joel Baiocchi wrote another good one.
Monday, August 11, 2003
The China Trail, and the NFNFAR
Two adventures:
Saturday some eight of us met at Alta, drove up to Lost Camp, and descended the China Trail to the North Fork of the North Fork American River (NFNFAR).
We took a look around Lost Camp first, examining some few of the 590 acres to be logged. Lost Camp was a boom town in 1858, but declined rapidly. Old house and cabin sites are common, and mining pits are everywhere. The THP specifically states that not all trees to be cut are marked, so it is a little strange, to drive past tall Sugar Pines, and know their death sentence hangs over them, even tho not marked with blue paint.
At the trailhead, many trees *are* marked, including one middling large Incense Cedar which escaped the last round of logging, only a couple decades past, and which holds a rare blaze marking the trail. We were surprised to find a bit of flagging marking the trail, although it is never mentioned in the THP.
Something near a mile of walking over a descent of 1300' brings one to the confluence of Texas Canyon and the NFNFAR, the Ladybug Capital of the Universe, where, true to this strangely special place, even tho it is not the time of winter hibernation, many thousands of ladybugs cover rock surfaces and tree trunks in tightly-packed almost motionless masses, while others more or less scamper about everywhere.
A ramble up the river led us to the Pool of Cold Fire, where the amazing Gorge of Many Gorges may be said to begin, and a few of us swam up the long, deep, cliff-bound pool of crystalline, cold water; I nobly swam with one arm above the water, camera in hand, determined to at last photograph the remarkable waterfall and pool in Fulda Canyon, a ways above. I fought against the rippling, ever-strengthening currents and finally dragged myself from the icy grip of the narrow pool, and, quite naked, made the somewhat perilous climb up angling ledges into the Fulda Gorge. Arriving at the great round pool, I raised the camera, clicked the shutter release, and--found that my batteries had expired.
We saw ouzels and heard wrens and there were flowers and cute little garter snakes and the renowned Foothill Yellow-Legged Frogs and the giant Indian Rhubarb with leaves larger than dinner plates, and it was a fine day if rather tame so far as gorge-scrambling goes, and then up the trail we slowly went, and home.
Sunday, I met Steve Hunter for a foray into the NFNFAR, some miles downstream from the China Trail. Last Friday I had visited the good offices of Tahoe National Forest in Nevada City and enjoyed a brief tour of their very remarkable collection of old maps. While leafing through an enormous volume of maps devolving upon the Lost Camp area, I saw several maps of patented mining claims. One of these caught my eye, a lode claim, on a gold-bearing quartz vein, since the map showed a foot trail descending from Sawtooth Ridge to the NFNFAR, crossing a bridge, and at least starting up the north canyon wall, towards Lost Camp Ridge (the divide between the NFNFAR and Blue Canyon). I called Steve to ask him about this trail, as he is the ultimate authority on this canyon, and, not knowing it, he felt, as I did, that it must quickly quickly be known. Hence our foray.
Steve and I drove up to Emigrant Gap and in Forest Road 19, stopping briefly to say hello to geologist Allan James at Tunnel Mills campground, and then continuing past Texas Hill to Sawtooth Ridge. A maze of logging roads was negotiated, past horrendous clearcuts in Section 35 near Helester Point, on SPI lands, and eventually we trundled down a switchbacking jeep trail which had some exciting sections, very jeep-ish, until we were stopped by a ravine. However, our tortuous course had worn away much elevation; we were deep within the canyon, and only about 700 feet or so above the river. We parked at 3150' elevation; the river was somewhat below 2400'.
A steep descent over slippery slopes in a mixed forest of Canyon Live Oak, Douglas Fir, and California Nutmeg, that yew-family conifer with the stiff stinging needles, brought is to the sparkling river about three-quarters of an air mile from the east boundary of the lode claim. The canyon here, as at the China Trail, is incised into almost vertical strata of the Shoo Fly Complex metasediments. They are wonderfully shaped and polished and threaded everywhere with quartz veins, large and small. Trout darted about or hung lazily in the current, facing upstream, easily seen in the clear cold water.
We had a good scramble downstream over the polished rocks, sometimes crossing the river, and admiring soaring cliffs of slate-like rock, with blade-like eminences hundreds of feet above us. We began to sense that we must be nearing our goal, and examined the cliffs and ramparts of rock for old iron pins or bolts, marking the site of our bridge, and thus, our trail. Eventually we set the packs down and struck out more swiftly downstream. Almost immediately we saw a cable stretched across the river, well downstream, and hurried towards it.
Terraces of glacial outwash deposits appeared along both banks, the flat tops about fifty feet above river level. These would date from the Tioga glaciation, around 12,000 years ago; the ice itself did not reach this far down-canyon, but sediments disgorged by the glacier were of such a quantity as to overwhelm the river's ability to transport them, and a kind of narrow floodplain developed. Then the ice melted away, the sediment load diminished, and the river carved quickly down to bedrock, leaving these terraces, wherever topography conspired to protect them.
We saw some small scars and hollows left by ground-sluicing, long ago, in these terrace deposits, and then a 6" riveted iron pipe, used in that ground-sluicing, and then, a chunk of concrete--the bridge! We had found the bridge! And we were directly below the old cable!
However, as we scanned the banks on both sides, what we found was no bridge, but a dam, a low dam, of concrete, reinforced with much odds and ends of iron and steel, including narrow-gauge railroad track, said dam breached by flood events and their tumbled boulders, in the center of the stream, but intact on both banks. Crossing, we found that the dam had diverted the river through a short tunnel, and soon all became clear.
What we had found was the "take" for the water supplying the powerhouse at the Rawhide Mine. There, twin Pelton wheels were fed by twin penstocks. I had always wondered where the water came from. It could only come from the NFNFAR, but, where? Usually Pelton wheels are set up with high "heads," so the water can drop a long ways into the turbine. If the Rawhide wheels were typical, well, a rather long ditch was implied, high on the canyon wall, and "taking" the waters of the NFNFAR far far upstream.
Yet, here were were, not an air mile from the powerhouse, and with utterly no question that this very dam was the one and only "take." Thus there was no very great "fall" to the Pelton wheels, perhaps as little as 100 feet, surely less than 200 feet. We were inordinately pleased by all this and sped downstream, past places where the iron penstock, around four feet in diameter, had been anchored to the very cliffs, past benches blasted out of the solid solid rock, and down to a meadowy area where the NFNFAR bends sharply to the south. There we called a halt. We found a cabin site, with a rather strange and ornate cast iron artifact nearby, and, just above the ditch-line--for here, at least, they had switched from a pipe to a ditch, to move the water along--just above, we found a sort of wagon road, badly overgrown, but suggesting that it was the way all these many materials had been brought upstream to the diversion dam.
So, it was all very good, and shows that, from the Rawhide, an excellent trail could be opened up to the old dam. This is all the more reason to try to secure the passage across private property at the Rawhide, for all this area (except the patented lode claim), like the trail from the Rawhide up to Sawtooth Ridge, is, thank goodness, Tahoe National Forest. But these old trails, open to our grandfathers, are closed to us.
While returning upstream to the dam site, Steve and I noted some large bolts let into the polished rock flanking a little inner gorge, and realized it was a bridge site, and very likely, the very bridge site, with its associated trails, which had lured us down into the magical canyon. But the sun was westering and a long hike led up to the jeep, so we did not take time to look for the trails.
In the fullness of my extreme genius I left the camera in my pack and obtained no photos of the dam or bridge site or wagon road.
I should say that in the vicinity of the dam, up and downstream, are some very nice pools. We swam one of them. They are deep and broad and cold and clear.
We swam one last time before making the steep climb to the jeep, and soaked our shirts in the cold water, and it was not too bad, and not too long, and not too hot, and not too buggy, and so, then, having arrived, it only remained to depart, and make the very long drive back to civilization, at Emigrant Gap.
Such were two great days in the NFNFAR.
Saturday some eight of us met at Alta, drove up to Lost Camp, and descended the China Trail to the North Fork of the North Fork American River (NFNFAR).
We took a look around Lost Camp first, examining some few of the 590 acres to be logged. Lost Camp was a boom town in 1858, but declined rapidly. Old house and cabin sites are common, and mining pits are everywhere. The THP specifically states that not all trees to be cut are marked, so it is a little strange, to drive past tall Sugar Pines, and know their death sentence hangs over them, even tho not marked with blue paint.
At the trailhead, many trees *are* marked, including one middling large Incense Cedar which escaped the last round of logging, only a couple decades past, and which holds a rare blaze marking the trail. We were surprised to find a bit of flagging marking the trail, although it is never mentioned in the THP.
Something near a mile of walking over a descent of 1300' brings one to the confluence of Texas Canyon and the NFNFAR, the Ladybug Capital of the Universe, where, true to this strangely special place, even tho it is not the time of winter hibernation, many thousands of ladybugs cover rock surfaces and tree trunks in tightly-packed almost motionless masses, while others more or less scamper about everywhere.
A ramble up the river led us to the Pool of Cold Fire, where the amazing Gorge of Many Gorges may be said to begin, and a few of us swam up the long, deep, cliff-bound pool of crystalline, cold water; I nobly swam with one arm above the water, camera in hand, determined to at last photograph the remarkable waterfall and pool in Fulda Canyon, a ways above. I fought against the rippling, ever-strengthening currents and finally dragged myself from the icy grip of the narrow pool, and, quite naked, made the somewhat perilous climb up angling ledges into the Fulda Gorge. Arriving at the great round pool, I raised the camera, clicked the shutter release, and--found that my batteries had expired.
We saw ouzels and heard wrens and there were flowers and cute little garter snakes and the renowned Foothill Yellow-Legged Frogs and the giant Indian Rhubarb with leaves larger than dinner plates, and it was a fine day if rather tame so far as gorge-scrambling goes, and then up the trail we slowly went, and home.
Sunday, I met Steve Hunter for a foray into the NFNFAR, some miles downstream from the China Trail. Last Friday I had visited the good offices of Tahoe National Forest in Nevada City and enjoyed a brief tour of their very remarkable collection of old maps. While leafing through an enormous volume of maps devolving upon the Lost Camp area, I saw several maps of patented mining claims. One of these caught my eye, a lode claim, on a gold-bearing quartz vein, since the map showed a foot trail descending from Sawtooth Ridge to the NFNFAR, crossing a bridge, and at least starting up the north canyon wall, towards Lost Camp Ridge (the divide between the NFNFAR and Blue Canyon). I called Steve to ask him about this trail, as he is the ultimate authority on this canyon, and, not knowing it, he felt, as I did, that it must quickly quickly be known. Hence our foray.
Steve and I drove up to Emigrant Gap and in Forest Road 19, stopping briefly to say hello to geologist Allan James at Tunnel Mills campground, and then continuing past Texas Hill to Sawtooth Ridge. A maze of logging roads was negotiated, past horrendous clearcuts in Section 35 near Helester Point, on SPI lands, and eventually we trundled down a switchbacking jeep trail which had some exciting sections, very jeep-ish, until we were stopped by a ravine. However, our tortuous course had worn away much elevation; we were deep within the canyon, and only about 700 feet or so above the river. We parked at 3150' elevation; the river was somewhat below 2400'.
A steep descent over slippery slopes in a mixed forest of Canyon Live Oak, Douglas Fir, and California Nutmeg, that yew-family conifer with the stiff stinging needles, brought is to the sparkling river about three-quarters of an air mile from the east boundary of the lode claim. The canyon here, as at the China Trail, is incised into almost vertical strata of the Shoo Fly Complex metasediments. They are wonderfully shaped and polished and threaded everywhere with quartz veins, large and small. Trout darted about or hung lazily in the current, facing upstream, easily seen in the clear cold water.
We had a good scramble downstream over the polished rocks, sometimes crossing the river, and admiring soaring cliffs of slate-like rock, with blade-like eminences hundreds of feet above us. We began to sense that we must be nearing our goal, and examined the cliffs and ramparts of rock for old iron pins or bolts, marking the site of our bridge, and thus, our trail. Eventually we set the packs down and struck out more swiftly downstream. Almost immediately we saw a cable stretched across the river, well downstream, and hurried towards it.
Terraces of glacial outwash deposits appeared along both banks, the flat tops about fifty feet above river level. These would date from the Tioga glaciation, around 12,000 years ago; the ice itself did not reach this far down-canyon, but sediments disgorged by the glacier were of such a quantity as to overwhelm the river's ability to transport them, and a kind of narrow floodplain developed. Then the ice melted away, the sediment load diminished, and the river carved quickly down to bedrock, leaving these terraces, wherever topography conspired to protect them.
We saw some small scars and hollows left by ground-sluicing, long ago, in these terrace deposits, and then a 6" riveted iron pipe, used in that ground-sluicing, and then, a chunk of concrete--the bridge! We had found the bridge! And we were directly below the old cable!
However, as we scanned the banks on both sides, what we found was no bridge, but a dam, a low dam, of concrete, reinforced with much odds and ends of iron and steel, including narrow-gauge railroad track, said dam breached by flood events and their tumbled boulders, in the center of the stream, but intact on both banks. Crossing, we found that the dam had diverted the river through a short tunnel, and soon all became clear.
What we had found was the "take" for the water supplying the powerhouse at the Rawhide Mine. There, twin Pelton wheels were fed by twin penstocks. I had always wondered where the water came from. It could only come from the NFNFAR, but, where? Usually Pelton wheels are set up with high "heads," so the water can drop a long ways into the turbine. If the Rawhide wheels were typical, well, a rather long ditch was implied, high on the canyon wall, and "taking" the waters of the NFNFAR far far upstream.
Yet, here were were, not an air mile from the powerhouse, and with utterly no question that this very dam was the one and only "take." Thus there was no very great "fall" to the Pelton wheels, perhaps as little as 100 feet, surely less than 200 feet. We were inordinately pleased by all this and sped downstream, past places where the iron penstock, around four feet in diameter, had been anchored to the very cliffs, past benches blasted out of the solid solid rock, and down to a meadowy area where the NFNFAR bends sharply to the south. There we called a halt. We found a cabin site, with a rather strange and ornate cast iron artifact nearby, and, just above the ditch-line--for here, at least, they had switched from a pipe to a ditch, to move the water along--just above, we found a sort of wagon road, badly overgrown, but suggesting that it was the way all these many materials had been brought upstream to the diversion dam.
So, it was all very good, and shows that, from the Rawhide, an excellent trail could be opened up to the old dam. This is all the more reason to try to secure the passage across private property at the Rawhide, for all this area (except the patented lode claim), like the trail from the Rawhide up to Sawtooth Ridge, is, thank goodness, Tahoe National Forest. But these old trails, open to our grandfathers, are closed to us.
While returning upstream to the dam site, Steve and I noted some large bolts let into the polished rock flanking a little inner gorge, and realized it was a bridge site, and very likely, the very bridge site, with its associated trails, which had lured us down into the magical canyon. But the sun was westering and a long hike led up to the jeep, so we did not take time to look for the trails.
In the fullness of my extreme genius I left the camera in my pack and obtained no photos of the dam or bridge site or wagon road.
I should say that in the vicinity of the dam, up and downstream, are some very nice pools. We swam one of them. They are deep and broad and cold and clear.
We swam one last time before making the steep climb to the jeep, and soaked our shirts in the cold water, and it was not too bad, and not too long, and not too hot, and not too buggy, and so, then, having arrived, it only remained to depart, and make the very long drive back to civilization, at Emigrant Gap.
Such were two great days in the NFNFAR.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)