This morning, early, I made a dash up to Blue Canyon and drove through Lost Camp to the top of the China Trail. There is no obstruction on the road, contrary to the report I received yesterday. So, that's the good news.
The bad news is that many trees are marked for a timber harvest in the vicinity of the townsite, and that some private parcels in the area are "for sale," and that there is no immediate prospect for Tahoe National Forest or the Placer Legacy to step into the breach and try to acquire these private lands, near the townsite and trailhead.
For those who do not know of Lost Camp and the China Trail, well, Lost Camp was a hydraulic mining town established in 1858. It is roughly south of Blue Canyon, and is on top of the ridge dividing Blue Canyon, the stream, from the North Fork of the North Fork. Lost Camp is in Section 23, T16N, R11E. Directions to reach Lost Camp and the China Trail are as follows.
From the Blue Canyon exit on eastbound I-80, set your odometer to zero, and turn sharply right onto a paved road leading back to the west. This is Blue Canyon Road.
In ~.4 miles, pass paved Airport Road on the right, leading to the Blue Canyon airport. Blue Canyon Road descends steadily, crosses the creek, and at ~2.0 miles, a paved road forks left, towards and past some houses. The pavement ends shortly and a dirt road continues. In another ~.5 miles a road forks left; stay to the right. The railroad is reached at approximately 2.9 miles. The road crosses the tracks near where the old Bradley & Gardner Ditch, or Placer County Canal, itself crossed the tracks, on its way to Dutch Flat and Gold Run. This major mining ditch pre-dates the railroad.
Immediately after crossing the tracks, a road forks left, which has been recently widened. Stay right. At ~3.0 miles a log deck is passed and at ~3.1 miles another road forks left--stay right--, while on the right is a small cabin-like structure with "no trespassing" signs. At ~3.5 miles a wrecked car is on the left. Roads fork to left and right, and a group of larger, older Ponderosa Pines is on the right, with a hunters' deer-dressing pipe embedded between two pines. The road to the right leads past the west part of the townsite to the largest hydraulic pit. That to the left leads to the east part of the townsite, where an old orchard still exists.
The main road goes straight. At ~3.6 miles a gulch is crossed and hydraulic mining banks are visible nearby. At ~3.8 miles the main Lost Camp Divide Road breaks away to the right, while the road to the trailhead goes straight. At ~3.9 miles, a small road forks steeply down to the left to the trailhead, which is just out of view. There is a parking area about fifty yards or so back to the north. There are no signs.
This trail descends to the North Fork of the North Fork American, and not too long ago, crossed the river and climbed up Sawtooth Ridge to the south. However, on the Sawtooth Ridge side it has been obliterated by logging. I published the diary of a man named Isaac Tibbetts Coffin who lived over near Texas Hill and Burnett Canyon from 1858 until 1864, and he often used this trail to walk to Dutch Flat, by way of Lost Camp, and also, mule trains used to bring provisions to Texas Hill and Monumental Camp, from Dutch Flat, on this trail.
Coffin always refers to it as the "trail to Lost Camp." I do not know when or why it became known as the China Trail, or the China Bar Trail. Coffin does mention that, in 1864, Chinese miners from Dutch Flat were scouting the entire area, and looking to buy mining claims.
The China Trail begins in the private lands in Section 23 but quickly passes into Tahoe National Forest lands, in Section 24 to the east.
This trail shows on the 1866 General Land Office map, as does the road to Lost Camp. As it descends to the river it roughly parallels a ravine marked "Texas Ca–on" on my 1866 map. This map also shows a trail leading east from Lost Camp, marked as "Trail to Monumental Camp," and another trail leading west, from somewhat south of Lost Camp, into Blue Canyon.
After driving to the trailhead, I turned back, drove to the townsite, parked near the wrecked car and old pines, and tried to find the "Trail to Monumental Camp."
Monumental Camp would seem to have been near the confluence of Monumental Creek and the East Fork of the North Fork of the North Fork. Coffin mentions several residents of Monumental Camp, who would come and visit him at Texas Hill or at his other cabin down in Burnett Canyon.
At any rate, scouting east on the small road, I passed the old orchard and reached the remnants of a cabin. Some mining occurred at Lost Camp during the Depression, but I have been unable to discover anything about this era. The structure I saw probably dates from that time. In the vicinity are a number of old mining ditches, mining reservoirs, and deep gullies left by minor hydraulic mining, of the sort they called "ground sluicing." The area has been logged again and again and no old trees remain which might have held blazes.
Unfortunately, the larger 3rd-growth trees which are there now are all marked with blue spray paint, and all kinds of flagging is scattered through the forest.
I struck the line of one of the many old mining ditches and followed it through a ravine, then saw an old human trail leading down, followed it, struck another ditch, in this case, with flagging marking it as a skid trail, and finally broke out onto an ugly bulldozed skid trail thing, with a bulldozed flat just above me. This I took to be a building site on one of the parcels now for sale. The ditch had been erased, and I was far from my car.
The route I had followed seemed a plausible fit for the Trail to Monumental Camp, but to determine the issue I would have to cross to the ridge between Texas Canyon and Fulda Creek, a ways east, and pick up the trail over there, and follow it back to Lost Camp, if possible.
The China Trail is quite special. A descent of around 1300 feet brings you to the river. Several old camping terraces are in the area. I almost always see tremendous numbers of ladybugs there, in fact, I call it the Ladybug Capital of the Universe. The river is lovely. However, the most wonderful, the most incredible thing, is the gorge which is hidden from view just a little ways upstream.
This is a Gorge of Many Gorges, riddled with waterfalls, a Confluence of Canyons, I don't quite know what to call it, but in a very short distance many streams are joined: Texas Canyon, Fulda Creek, Sailor Ravine and the North Fork of the North Fork itself, which is a hanging valley with respect to the main gorge, said main gorge aligning more closely with the East Fork of the North Fork of the North Fork. And add to all these streams Burnett Canyon and Wilmont Ravine.
The main gorge is awesome, with cliffs of the Shoo Fly Complex metasediments soaring above, in many blocky overhangs, so that, sitting on some outcrop or boulder down on the river, and looking up, I often get dizzy and disoriented. It is fairly difficult to ascend the river into the gorge. Some of the waterfalls, some of the best and highest waterfalls, are just off the main gorge, in the side canyons, and they too are difficult to reach.
It is really one of the most beautiful places in Tahoe National Forest.
We must find a way for Tahoe National Forest to purchase some of these private inholdings. However, TNF does not seem to appreciate the importance of this area, and the China Trail. I cannot help but think that, for the TNF staff in Nevada City, this area is far out of sight, and therefore far out of mind.
Friday, August 1, 2003
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Re: Public Access: Lost?
Hi Bill, you wrote,
The historic trails can and should be protected from project effects under
NHPA. Do you have any particlar concerns within the Blue Canyon Project
area?
Yes, as mentioned in my recent letter, to District Ranger Vivian Kee, of about May 15. I mentioned the China Trail, the Bradley & Gardner Ditch, etc.
As to historic trails not in project areas, but that are being impacted by
various agents, we do have a responsiblity to address those situations. I
would like to get map locations of the trails you are concerned with and
work w/David Michaels to try and address the problems you are bringing to
our attention. From a heritage resources persprective it would be
important for me to get the historic trails on our hertitage resources
atlas as a first step in trying to protect them. David might be able to
get out in the field with you.
Most of these trails are depicted on your own TNF maps! This partly why my friends and I are so amazed and horrified by the *complete obliteration* of one trail after another! And, so far as timber harvests on private lands, you guys at TNF review and sign off on every such harvest plan within the broader outlines of TNF, right?
I would be more than happy, I would be ecstatic, to help identify these absolutely precious, historic trails. My friends and I sometimes GPS these trails. I can draw many of them in on maps. Heck, many are already on the TNF special 7.5 minute topographic maps. These once formed a large interconnected network of trails. Don't forget, among all these many historic trails is the one which goes through the Rawhide Mine up to Sawtooth Ridge. Suppose this one trail was still open to the public, as it should be. One could walk from Iron Point to Big Valley Bluff, Loch Leven Lakes, Devils Peak, and on to Cascade Lake and Soda Springs--that is, if the intervening trails had not been obliterated.
Currently we are working on trail development in Burlington Ridge area. We
are developing RR grades and ditches as trails. What has happened is that
members of the public have pioneered bike and motorbike trails, some of
which have impacted the grades and ditches, or are poorly engineered, and
we are trying to get the situation under control. Also we are planning
alterations to Loch Leven Trail. If you have concerns in these areas let
me know. I realize this is a different issue than the one you raise about
historic trails.
I absolutely hate the new Loch Leven Trail! What was wrong with the old one? The new one is in extremely bad repair, and is even dangerous to walk on in places; I was on it Monday, to my regret. I refer to the section between old Hwy. 40 and the railroad.
Thanks so much for taking the time to consider these issues, Bill, I greatly appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Russell Towle
The historic trails can and should be protected from project effects under
NHPA. Do you have any particlar concerns within the Blue Canyon Project
area?
Yes, as mentioned in my recent letter, to District Ranger Vivian Kee, of about May 15. I mentioned the China Trail, the Bradley & Gardner Ditch, etc.
As to historic trails not in project areas, but that are being impacted by
various agents, we do have a responsiblity to address those situations. I
would like to get map locations of the trails you are concerned with and
work w/David Michaels to try and address the problems you are bringing to
our attention. From a heritage resources persprective it would be
important for me to get the historic trails on our hertitage resources
atlas as a first step in trying to protect them. David might be able to
get out in the field with you.
Most of these trails are depicted on your own TNF maps! This partly why my friends and I are so amazed and horrified by the *complete obliteration* of one trail after another! And, so far as timber harvests on private lands, you guys at TNF review and sign off on every such harvest plan within the broader outlines of TNF, right?
I would be more than happy, I would be ecstatic, to help identify these absolutely precious, historic trails. My friends and I sometimes GPS these trails. I can draw many of them in on maps. Heck, many are already on the TNF special 7.5 minute topographic maps. These once formed a large interconnected network of trails. Don't forget, among all these many historic trails is the one which goes through the Rawhide Mine up to Sawtooth Ridge. Suppose this one trail was still open to the public, as it should be. One could walk from Iron Point to Big Valley Bluff, Loch Leven Lakes, Devils Peak, and on to Cascade Lake and Soda Springs--that is, if the intervening trails had not been obliterated.
Currently we are working on trail development in Burlington Ridge area. We
are developing RR grades and ditches as trails. What has happened is that
members of the public have pioneered bike and motorbike trails, some of
which have impacted the grades and ditches, or are poorly engineered, and
we are trying to get the situation under control. Also we are planning
alterations to Loch Leven Trail. If you have concerns in these areas let
me know. I realize this is a different issue than the one you raise about
historic trails.
I absolutely hate the new Loch Leven Trail! What was wrong with the old one? The new one is in extremely bad repair, and is even dangerous to walk on in places; I was on it Monday, to my regret. I refer to the section between old Hwy. 40 and the railroad.
Thanks so much for taking the time to consider these issues, Bill, I greatly appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Russell Towle
Public Access: Lost?
For several years now I have been urging Tahoe National Forest to try to acquire the private lands at the head of the trail from Lost Camp down to the North Fork of the North Fork American. This trail, in Section 23, T16N, R11E, quickly passes onto TNF lands as it proceeds south to the river. It is sometimes called the China Trail, or the China Bar Trail. It used to continue up the other side of the North Fork of the North Fork to Sawtooth Ridge, with one branch bearing east to Burnett Canyon, the other south to Helester Point, I believe, but over the past thirty years that area has been heavily logged, and that part of the old trail destroyed.
It is still intact on the Lost Camp side of the river.
This trail is depicted on the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. It is also one of the sixty-odd trails declared to be public trails in the famous 1953 Placer County Board of Supervisors' ordinance. The Lost Camp part of the trail is also shown on the USGS 7.5 minute Westville quadrangle.
I am not aware that Forest Supervisor Steven Eubanks has ever responded to my letters regarding this trail.
Today I learned from someone who hiked the China Trail last year, and tried to reach the trail today, that the road down to Lost Camp and the trailhead is now gated closed.
This, if true, is intolerable.
I wonder whether, when CDF approves timber harvests, or TNF plans and approves timber harvests, which absolutely ruin and obliterate historic trails,--I wonder in what way such actions can be considered consistent with NEPA or CEQA.
It is still intact on the Lost Camp side of the river.
This trail is depicted on the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. It is also one of the sixty-odd trails declared to be public trails in the famous 1953 Placer County Board of Supervisors' ordinance. The Lost Camp part of the trail is also shown on the USGS 7.5 minute Westville quadrangle.
I am not aware that Forest Supervisor Steven Eubanks has ever responded to my letters regarding this trail.
Today I learned from someone who hiked the China Trail last year, and tried to reach the trail today, that the road down to Lost Camp and the trailhead is now gated closed.
This, if true, is intolerable.
I wonder whether, when CDF approves timber harvests, or TNF plans and approves timber harvests, which absolutely ruin and obliterate historic trails,--I wonder in what way such actions can be considered consistent with NEPA or CEQA.
Public Access: Lost?
For several years now I have been urging Tahoe National Forest to try to acquire the private lands at the head of the trail from Lost Camp down to the North Fork of the North Fork American. This trail, in Section 23, T16N, R11E, quickly passes onto TNF lands as it proceeds south to the river. It is sometimes called the China Trail, or the China Bar Trail. It used to continue up the other side of the North Fork of the North Fork to Sawtooth Ridge, with one branch bearing east to Burnett Canyon, the other south to Helester Point, I believe, but over the past thirty years that area has been heavily logged, and that part of the old trail destroyed.
It is still intact on the Lost Camp side of the river.
This trail is depicted on the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. It is also one of the sixty-odd trails declared to be public trails in the famous 1953 Placer County Board of Supervisors' ordinance. The Lost Camp part of the trail is also shown on the USGS 7.5 minute Westville quadrangle.
I am not aware that Forest Supervisor Steven Eubanks has ever responded to my letters regarding this trail.
Today I learned from someone who hiked the China Trail last year, and tried to reach the trail today, that the road down to Lost Camp and the trailhead is now gated closed.
This, if true, is intolerable.
I wonder whether, when CDF approves timber harvests, or TNF plans and approves timber harvests, which absolutely ruin and obliterate historic trails,--I wonder in what way such actions can be considered consistent with NEPA or CEQA.
It is still intact on the Lost Camp side of the river.
This trail is depicted on the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. It is also one of the sixty-odd trails declared to be public trails in the famous 1953 Placer County Board of Supervisors' ordinance. The Lost Camp part of the trail is also shown on the USGS 7.5 minute Westville quadrangle.
I am not aware that Forest Supervisor Steven Eubanks has ever responded to my letters regarding this trail.
Today I learned from someone who hiked the China Trail last year, and tried to reach the trail today, that the road down to Lost Camp and the trailhead is now gated closed.
This, if true, is intolerable.
I wonder whether, when CDF approves timber harvests, or TNF plans and approves timber harvests, which absolutely ruin and obliterate historic trails,--I wonder in what way such actions can be considered consistent with NEPA or CEQA.
Glaciers; Another Abandoned TNF Trail
On Sunday I joined a field trip led by geologist Allan James ("AJ") as part of the INQUA 2003 conference in Reno. INQUA stands for INternational QUAternary Research Association. Members are engaged in active research bearing upon Pleistocene glaciations and climate fluctuations. The Pleistocene is considered to have begun around 1.75 million years ago, and to have ended a scant 12,000 years ago. Quite a number of glacial advances and retreats occurred. Then the climate warmed, the glaciers receded, and all this warmer period down to the present time is called the Holocene. Since there have been many such warm spells during the Pleistocene, there is nothing to suggest that the cycles of glaciations have actually ended; we are likely just in one more "interglacial" period.
At any rate, AJ has been mapping glacial moraines and till deposits in the upper Bear and South Yuba river basins for the past ten years. He is a professor back East and comes out here every summer to camp up in Rattlesnake Canyon, north of Cisco Grove, and wander the hills, GPS unit in hand, recording glacial features. The most easily recognized of these features derive from the last major glaciation, which in the Sierra is called the Tioga episode.
Around thirty-five people from all over the world were on the field trip. We began at Big Bend, then stopped at a hilltop overlook near Nyack, with fine views of Bear Valley and the Yuba Gorge. From there we drove west to Drum Forebay and caught the old Pacific Turnpike, a road from Dutch Flat to Virginia City, and followed it east into Bear Valley, stopping to examine a moraine deposit which AJ considers to predate the Tioga.
Now, I happen to disagree with AJ about the extent of the Tioga ice; he imagines Tioga ice to be smaller in areal coverage, and thinner, while I see it as somewhat larger and thicker. At every stop we would pile out of the vans and SUVs and AJ would explain this or that. Then I would sidle forward and disagree with most of what he had said. He tolerated this with amazing good grace.
We visited the Yuba Gorge, where the divide between the Bear and South Yuba has been reduced to a low ridge of polished rock of the Shoo Fly Complex. Here, as in many other places, ice from the South Yuba basin overflowed to the south, and broke down the dividing ridge. We then drove up to Rattlesnake Canyon and on to Fordyce Summit, where we visited a moraine AJ regards as especially significant. I offered my usual rebuttal, and then a thunderstorm drove us into the cars. It evolved into a knock-down, drag-out storm of epic proportion, lightning striking everywhere, deafening thunder following immediately after the brilliant flashes, and a truly torrential downpour of rain and hail, which made instant rivers of the dusty roads.
We waited it out and found another high vista point as the skies cleared a little and sunshine broke through. We could see the Sierra crest from Castle Peak down to the Crystal Range, Devils Peak, Snow Mountain, Duncan peak, Cisco Butte, Black Mountain, etc. etc.
We then enjoyed a picnic of wine and beer and crackers and cheese, high on the slopes of Red Mountain; conversation intensified, and debates ripened. I met many geologists, from Germany, Sweden, China, and elsewhere, and was able to learn a little about their own special areas of research. It was a great day.
On Monday I met Ron Gould for an attempt to find and follow an old Tahoe National Forest trail, from Big Bend to Devils Peak and Snow Mountain. We were hoping for a repeat of Sunday's rain, but, although cumulonimbus clouds did blossom, rain was confined to the crest and points east.
We popped into the Big Bend Ranger Station for a quick look at a 1916 map of Tahoe National Forest, which shows many but not all of the historic trails, and marks out areas as "Good Camping Ground" or "Deer" or "Grouse." Among the trails is the historic public trail from the Old Soda Springs Road down the North Fork to Heath Springs.
We had great difficulty, in fact, we failed, in locating the line of the trail on the north, Big Bend side of the railroad. We stumbled along, sweating, on a possible route, littered with logging slash, on an eastward bearing, and as we drew near to the tracks a lone duck appeared. We climbed to the tracks, crossed into a valley leading to a pass we saw as the most likely route, and began scouting back and forth, high and low, for the old trail. After perhaps twenty minutes we found it, marked by blazes on the trees. Soon it became quite well-defined, with many blazes and ducks, and the occasional brushy areas were usually easily passed.
The trail climbed in switchbacks across an open area of glaciated granite, where some blasting had taken place, way back when, to construct or improve the trail. It was by all appearances a large trail, a major trail. It looked as though it had seen fairly heavy use by horses and pack animals, long ago. However, when it passed east into Section 35, T17N, R13E--presumably, being odd-numbered, an old "railroad" section, part of the many many thousands of acres of public land given to the Central Pacific Railroad in the 1860s--the trail became almost impossible to follow.
It was the same old story: heavy logging, with bulldozers scrambling every which way across the terrain, had utterly obliterated the trail. Most of the trees which had borne blazes had been cut down. With great difficulty we continued east, often losing, but always eventually regaining, the line of the old trail. We saw signs, high on the trees, marking the Royal Gorge Co.'s ski trail to Rainbow Lodge. Everything seemed to suggest that this Section 35 was a railroad section which had passed into the ownership of the Royal Gorge Co., but, strangely, it is marked as TNF land on the "big" TNF map. On my special TNF 7.5-minute quadrangle, however, it is marked as private land. Neither map depicts the historic trail to Devils Peak from Big Bend.
At a certain point the trail coincided with a logging road, as evidenced by occasional blazes on roadside trees. This road-with-blazes led us to the northeast corner of Section 35, and into the southeast corner of Section 26 to the north, where two small glacial ponds are nestled in the forest. Continuing, we passed into Section 25 to the east, and stopped for a rest.
I suggested that a side trail must have led more to the south, into a pass between the South Yuba and North Fork of the American, where Nancy Lake is located. This pass is one of many carved by South Yuba ice flowing south into the depths of the North Fork canyon, here, by way of Big Granite Creek. We scouted east through rather hopelessly torn-up terrain, the legacy of logging, without finding anything.
On the way back we were able to recovered a few new strands of the historic trail, including its exact approach to the railroad, but lost it again as we traversed a high knoll of granite, somewhat over 6200' in elevation, due east of Big Bend. We were puzzled by two half-inch cables running up the north face of the knoll. Reaching Ron's truck, we had tallied up something like seven or eight miles on our hike.
However, the story of this old trail continues.
On Tuesday, I visited Eric and Paula Peach in Auburn, and asked Eric about some trails depicted on the "big" TNF map, in the North Fork canyon, near Lake Clementine, Ponderosa Bridge, and points upstream. Eric has a fine collection of maps. As he pawed through his neatly-rolled trove, I spotted an old-style TNF map, and pulled it out.
It was the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. And there, plain as day, was the old trail from Big Bend to Devils Peak. It showed that, while crossing Section 35, the trail followed a slightly higher line than the road we had walked, and turned south into, and then north, out of, the very pass inhabited by Nancy Lake, before climbing to join the line of the road leading south to Devils Peak from Troy, at the north boundary of Section 6, T16N, R14E.
The map also solved the mystery of the half-inch cables on Knoll 6200; a tiny ski area had been there.
I immediately began poring over this 1962 map with a magnifying glass. I believe I once had my own copy of this map, thirty years ago. Some very intriguing trails were depicted, which I had never realized existed. Like the Big Bend-Devils Peak-Snow Mountain Trail, these trails no longer appear on TNF maps. One such followed the historic Iowa Hill Canal east from Beacroft Trail, past Tadpole Canyon, to the very terminus of the ditch. Another showed a variation upon the route of the Wabena Trail; rather than crossing Wabena Creek and following the east bank down to the North Fork, the trail was shown following the west bank down, and then paralleling the North Fork itself for a mile or so to the west. This lower reach of the trail is exactly that which Ron, my son Greg, and I followed on our recent visit to the Royal Gorge.
This 1962 map also showed the very same historic public trail registered on the 1916 map, from Old Soda Springs Road down the North Fork to Heath Springs. This wonderful trail has been closed to the public (illegally, I would say) for quite a few years now. I had the good fortune to hike it once, in 1979.
Eric kindly provided me with a copy of this 1962 TNF map.
At any rate, AJ has been mapping glacial moraines and till deposits in the upper Bear and South Yuba river basins for the past ten years. He is a professor back East and comes out here every summer to camp up in Rattlesnake Canyon, north of Cisco Grove, and wander the hills, GPS unit in hand, recording glacial features. The most easily recognized of these features derive from the last major glaciation, which in the Sierra is called the Tioga episode.
Around thirty-five people from all over the world were on the field trip. We began at Big Bend, then stopped at a hilltop overlook near Nyack, with fine views of Bear Valley and the Yuba Gorge. From there we drove west to Drum Forebay and caught the old Pacific Turnpike, a road from Dutch Flat to Virginia City, and followed it east into Bear Valley, stopping to examine a moraine deposit which AJ considers to predate the Tioga.
Now, I happen to disagree with AJ about the extent of the Tioga ice; he imagines Tioga ice to be smaller in areal coverage, and thinner, while I see it as somewhat larger and thicker. At every stop we would pile out of the vans and SUVs and AJ would explain this or that. Then I would sidle forward and disagree with most of what he had said. He tolerated this with amazing good grace.
We visited the Yuba Gorge, where the divide between the Bear and South Yuba has been reduced to a low ridge of polished rock of the Shoo Fly Complex. Here, as in many other places, ice from the South Yuba basin overflowed to the south, and broke down the dividing ridge. We then drove up to Rattlesnake Canyon and on to Fordyce Summit, where we visited a moraine AJ regards as especially significant. I offered my usual rebuttal, and then a thunderstorm drove us into the cars. It evolved into a knock-down, drag-out storm of epic proportion, lightning striking everywhere, deafening thunder following immediately after the brilliant flashes, and a truly torrential downpour of rain and hail, which made instant rivers of the dusty roads.
We waited it out and found another high vista point as the skies cleared a little and sunshine broke through. We could see the Sierra crest from Castle Peak down to the Crystal Range, Devils Peak, Snow Mountain, Duncan peak, Cisco Butte, Black Mountain, etc. etc.
We then enjoyed a picnic of wine and beer and crackers and cheese, high on the slopes of Red Mountain; conversation intensified, and debates ripened. I met many geologists, from Germany, Sweden, China, and elsewhere, and was able to learn a little about their own special areas of research. It was a great day.
On Monday I met Ron Gould for an attempt to find and follow an old Tahoe National Forest trail, from Big Bend to Devils Peak and Snow Mountain. We were hoping for a repeat of Sunday's rain, but, although cumulonimbus clouds did blossom, rain was confined to the crest and points east.
We popped into the Big Bend Ranger Station for a quick look at a 1916 map of Tahoe National Forest, which shows many but not all of the historic trails, and marks out areas as "Good Camping Ground" or "Deer" or "Grouse." Among the trails is the historic public trail from the Old Soda Springs Road down the North Fork to Heath Springs.
We had great difficulty, in fact, we failed, in locating the line of the trail on the north, Big Bend side of the railroad. We stumbled along, sweating, on a possible route, littered with logging slash, on an eastward bearing, and as we drew near to the tracks a lone duck appeared. We climbed to the tracks, crossed into a valley leading to a pass we saw as the most likely route, and began scouting back and forth, high and low, for the old trail. After perhaps twenty minutes we found it, marked by blazes on the trees. Soon it became quite well-defined, with many blazes and ducks, and the occasional brushy areas were usually easily passed.
The trail climbed in switchbacks across an open area of glaciated granite, where some blasting had taken place, way back when, to construct or improve the trail. It was by all appearances a large trail, a major trail. It looked as though it had seen fairly heavy use by horses and pack animals, long ago. However, when it passed east into Section 35, T17N, R13E--presumably, being odd-numbered, an old "railroad" section, part of the many many thousands of acres of public land given to the Central Pacific Railroad in the 1860s--the trail became almost impossible to follow.
It was the same old story: heavy logging, with bulldozers scrambling every which way across the terrain, had utterly obliterated the trail. Most of the trees which had borne blazes had been cut down. With great difficulty we continued east, often losing, but always eventually regaining, the line of the old trail. We saw signs, high on the trees, marking the Royal Gorge Co.'s ski trail to Rainbow Lodge. Everything seemed to suggest that this Section 35 was a railroad section which had passed into the ownership of the Royal Gorge Co., but, strangely, it is marked as TNF land on the "big" TNF map. On my special TNF 7.5-minute quadrangle, however, it is marked as private land. Neither map depicts the historic trail to Devils Peak from Big Bend.
At a certain point the trail coincided with a logging road, as evidenced by occasional blazes on roadside trees. This road-with-blazes led us to the northeast corner of Section 35, and into the southeast corner of Section 26 to the north, where two small glacial ponds are nestled in the forest. Continuing, we passed into Section 25 to the east, and stopped for a rest.
I suggested that a side trail must have led more to the south, into a pass between the South Yuba and North Fork of the American, where Nancy Lake is located. This pass is one of many carved by South Yuba ice flowing south into the depths of the North Fork canyon, here, by way of Big Granite Creek. We scouted east through rather hopelessly torn-up terrain, the legacy of logging, without finding anything.
On the way back we were able to recovered a few new strands of the historic trail, including its exact approach to the railroad, but lost it again as we traversed a high knoll of granite, somewhat over 6200' in elevation, due east of Big Bend. We were puzzled by two half-inch cables running up the north face of the knoll. Reaching Ron's truck, we had tallied up something like seven or eight miles on our hike.
However, the story of this old trail continues.
On Tuesday, I visited Eric and Paula Peach in Auburn, and asked Eric about some trails depicted on the "big" TNF map, in the North Fork canyon, near Lake Clementine, Ponderosa Bridge, and points upstream. Eric has a fine collection of maps. As he pawed through his neatly-rolled trove, I spotted an old-style TNF map, and pulled it out.
It was the 1962 TNF map of the Foresthill and Big Bend ranger districts. And there, plain as day, was the old trail from Big Bend to Devils Peak. It showed that, while crossing Section 35, the trail followed a slightly higher line than the road we had walked, and turned south into, and then north, out of, the very pass inhabited by Nancy Lake, before climbing to join the line of the road leading south to Devils Peak from Troy, at the north boundary of Section 6, T16N, R14E.
The map also solved the mystery of the half-inch cables on Knoll 6200; a tiny ski area had been there.
I immediately began poring over this 1962 map with a magnifying glass. I believe I once had my own copy of this map, thirty years ago. Some very intriguing trails were depicted, which I had never realized existed. Like the Big Bend-Devils Peak-Snow Mountain Trail, these trails no longer appear on TNF maps. One such followed the historic Iowa Hill Canal east from Beacroft Trail, past Tadpole Canyon, to the very terminus of the ditch. Another showed a variation upon the route of the Wabena Trail; rather than crossing Wabena Creek and following the east bank down to the North Fork, the trail was shown following the west bank down, and then paralleling the North Fork itself for a mile or so to the west. This lower reach of the trail is exactly that which Ron, my son Greg, and I followed on our recent visit to the Royal Gorge.
This 1962 map also showed the very same historic public trail registered on the 1916 map, from Old Soda Springs Road down the North Fork to Heath Springs. This wonderful trail has been closed to the public (illegally, I would say) for quite a few years now. I had the good fortune to hike it once, in 1979.
Eric kindly provided me with a copy of this 1962 TNF map.
Tuesday, March 25, 2003
Email Archive: Meeting Report
Hi all,
Some of those interested in forming a non-profit organization devoted to advocacy of environmental issues in and around the North Fork American, met at the Dutch Flat Community Club on Monday evening. Thanks to some diligent telephone tag on the part of Catherine O’Riley, we expected seven people to attend, but were pleasantly surprised when fourteen people arrived.
Jim Ricker of Dutch Flat ably presided over the meeting. He astounded me by bringing along a folder containing his notes of the meeting we held in March of 2000, at Bob & Judy Suter’s house, in which we discussed forming a non-profit organization. Susan Prince of Dutch Flat used an amazing little folding keyboard attached to a Palm minicomputer to take notes.
I had envisioned reading aloud the text of six emails received from people interested in forming a non-profit, but unable to attend the meeting, but the opportunity never seemed to arise. Thanks nevertheless to those who offered support and suggestions, notably Michael McCormack, Tim Lasko, Tom McDonnell, Michael Joyce, Bill Newsom, and Evan Jones. Catherine and Jim did take the time to read these emails, at any rate.
Having established that those present were all in favor of forming an organization, and moreover a non-profit organization, we moved on to the initial issues of, first, what should the name be, and second, what should the “mission statement” of the organization be. We did little more than chalk up some possibilities on the old blackboard (the DF Community Club is the old DF school, which dates to 1898).
We scheduled another meeting for early May, on Monday the 6th, I believe. Suggestions as to a name are welcome. Since we intend to defend the wildness and beauty of the North Fork of the American river, the name should reference that. Immediately we have quite a mouthful of words and syllables. Hence a name which lends itself to a good acronym is desired; much as the group “Protect the American River Canyons” has the acronym “PARC” which of course sounds like “park.”
Incidentally, from an historic viewpoint, the phrase “American River Canyon” was taken to apply *only* to the North Fork canyon, *not* to any other branch of the American river. However, this point has been muddled over the course of time, and nowadays one often finds other forks of the American denoted as *the* American River Canyon. All this is only to say that a name which includes the phrase “American River Canyon” is susceptible to misinterpretation on the one hand, and confusion with PARC on the other.
The meeting went very well. Thanks to all who attended, and all who sent emails.
Cheers,
[The blog post above was extracted from an archive of Russell's emails to his "North Fork Trails" email distribution list.
Posted by Richard L. Towle (Russell's brother)]
Some of those interested in forming a non-profit organization devoted to advocacy of environmental issues in and around the North Fork American, met at the Dutch Flat Community Club on Monday evening. Thanks to some diligent telephone tag on the part of Catherine O’Riley, we expected seven people to attend, but were pleasantly surprised when fourteen people arrived.
Jim Ricker of Dutch Flat ably presided over the meeting. He astounded me by bringing along a folder containing his notes of the meeting we held in March of 2000, at Bob & Judy Suter’s house, in which we discussed forming a non-profit organization. Susan Prince of Dutch Flat used an amazing little folding keyboard attached to a Palm minicomputer to take notes.
I had envisioned reading aloud the text of six emails received from people interested in forming a non-profit, but unable to attend the meeting, but the opportunity never seemed to arise. Thanks nevertheless to those who offered support and suggestions, notably Michael McCormack, Tim Lasko, Tom McDonnell, Michael Joyce, Bill Newsom, and Evan Jones. Catherine and Jim did take the time to read these emails, at any rate.
Having established that those present were all in favor of forming an organization, and moreover a non-profit organization, we moved on to the initial issues of, first, what should the name be, and second, what should the “mission statement” of the organization be. We did little more than chalk up some possibilities on the old blackboard (the DF Community Club is the old DF school, which dates to 1898).
We scheduled another meeting for early May, on Monday the 6th, I believe. Suggestions as to a name are welcome. Since we intend to defend the wildness and beauty of the North Fork of the American river, the name should reference that. Immediately we have quite a mouthful of words and syllables. Hence a name which lends itself to a good acronym is desired; much as the group “Protect the American River Canyons” has the acronym “PARC” which of course sounds like “park.”
Incidentally, from an historic viewpoint, the phrase “American River Canyon” was taken to apply *only* to the North Fork canyon, *not* to any other branch of the American river. However, this point has been muddled over the course of time, and nowadays one often finds other forks of the American denoted as *the* American River Canyon. All this is only to say that a name which includes the phrase “American River Canyon” is susceptible to misinterpretation on the one hand, and confusion with PARC on the other.
The meeting went very well. Thanks to all who attended, and all who sent emails.
Cheers,
[The blog post above was extracted from an archive of Russell's emails to his "North Fork Trails" email distribution list.
Posted by Richard L. Towle (Russell's brother)]
Saturday, February 23, 2002
Email Archive: Copter in Canyon Creek
Hi all,
The day dawned so clear and warm that I felt impelled to visit Canyon Creek. Around eight I stepped out the door and saw my dog, an Australian Shepherd named Lucky, lying sadly in the morning sun. Lucky should have about a thousand sheep under his direct supervision, but instead, languishes with nothing to do, in an unending fit of boredom, broken only by the occasional digging of a boulder of andesite from the hillside here, which he then proceeds to herd down to and over the cliffs below, with great yelps and snorts of triumph.
I told him, "Get ready, we're heading out. Time for an adventure!" Then I got my second cup of coffee and threw my camera, loppers, GPS unit and handsaw into my pack. I debated calling a friend to invite along for a hike. Jim & Heidi Johnson? Not a chance. A perpetual round of home improvement there. Joel Baiocchi? Home improvement. Jim Ricker? Knees. Bob & Judy Suter? Always busy. The renowned Judge Sims? Scared of heights. The renowned Judge Newsom? Attacked by a wild pig in Italy long ago, feet never the same. Catherine O'Riley? Engaged. Instead, I called an old friend in the Bay Area; the line was busy. Now that the Fates themselves had confirmed that telephone calls were simply out of order, I stepped outside. Lucky had divined my intentions and began leaping for joy, yelping, rolling on the ground, dashing up the steps, etc. etc. I fired up the battered old Toyota pickup and made my way to Gold Run, and through the tortuous turns and mudholes which count for a road into the diggings.
I parked in Potato Ravine Pass and dragged the shovel and mattock from the truck. On the way in, I would dig out some manzanita stumps from the line of the trail, in that uppermost portion I have been slowly restoring over this winter. A salvage timber harvest, following a wildfire in 1960, had ruined this part of the trail, and adding insult to this ruination, a heavy crop of manzanita had flourished and thickened over the past forty years. Having cut a swath through this manzanita, it remained to clear the stumps from the trail.
So I set the pack down, put on my gloves, and got to work. A mattock is a tool like a pickax, but heavier, with one blade like an axe, and one like an adze. Mine is ancient. It is good for cutting roots. I dug up three stumps and filled the holes with good clean clay and rock fill quarried shovelful by shovelful a few yards away. Then the pack went on, the heavy tools were left behind, and it was on down the trail. I noticed with some consternation that many other manzanita stumps remained to be dug out.
In a few minutes I was passing the huge tunnel of the Gold Run Ditch & Mining Company, made in 1873. In another few minutes I reached the bridge, with its now severely delaminating plywood. This must be fixed soon. The creek was running high and clear after the recent heavy rains and with the warm day cooking the thin snowpack persisting in the upper basin of Canyon Creek. I reached the first waterfall vista point and took a break. I made some short QuickTime movies of the waterfall with my camera.
I did not intend to go all the way to the river, only to Gorge Point, which has a very warm microclimate and has good early blooms of various flower species. However, I passed the point without seeing any flowers and stopped at the Rockslide, where a short reach of the trail had been destroyed, who knows how long ago. I parked the pack and started climbing up and down the ruined section, trying to imagine how it could be repaired, what the optimal line of the restored trail would be, and so on. Descending to the base of the ruined section, I began working on a short stretch down there. For an hour or so I heaved boulders around and tried to rebuild this little part of the trail. With the help of gravity, some 200-pound-plus boulders were brought into play, and a little progress was made. Then I worked for a while on another little section, trying to make stone steps.
I have this silly idea of making this part of the trail like some mountain trails in China, in Szechuan Province, where truly massive flat rocks weighing hundreds of pounds are used as stair steps over long distances. There are some rocks of this magnitude in the rock slide area. Today, however, I was mostly working with small stuff.
The sun was beating down and I was sweating. I decided to start back up, but paused at Gorge Point, where there was a nice patch of shade close by the cliff, as the sun passed the meridian. Having stopped there I realized that two species were indeed in bloom, the Carrot family's Biscuit Root and the Mustard family's Rock Cress. I took some pictures and then packed up again. As I started up the trail I heard the sound of a helicopter. It grew loud then faded away. I could not see it.
A few yards up the trail I heard it again, loud, and looking down the creek I saw it, rising right into the narrow gorge at Gorge Point. It apparently had flown right up past the Big Waterfall, and if its position when I first saw it was any indication, it would have been so close to the falls its windshield should have been wetted by the spray. I swung the camera up and took a few pictures. It flew directly up the creek, and the pilot peered down at me as he passed, only a hundred feet away or so. Illegally low, I think. I waved.
When I reached my mattock and shovel I stopped for some more stump digging. The morning stumps were easy, the afternoon stumps were hard, very hard, and took many many swings of the heavy mattock. In fact, I had to split the stumps into sections and then attack the roots of each section in turn. Another three stumps came out. I was exhausted, thrashed in fact, not from the hiking, not from the boulder work, but from that mattock.
Such was a day on the upper half of the Canyon Creek Trail.
[The blog post above was extracted from an archive of Russell's emails to his "North Fork Trails" email distribution list.
Posted by Richard L. Towle (Russell's brother)]
The day dawned so clear and warm that I felt impelled to visit Canyon Creek. Around eight I stepped out the door and saw my dog, an Australian Shepherd named Lucky, lying sadly in the morning sun. Lucky should have about a thousand sheep under his direct supervision, but instead, languishes with nothing to do, in an unending fit of boredom, broken only by the occasional digging of a boulder of andesite from the hillside here, which he then proceeds to herd down to and over the cliffs below, with great yelps and snorts of triumph.
I told him, "Get ready, we're heading out. Time for an adventure!" Then I got my second cup of coffee and threw my camera, loppers, GPS unit and handsaw into my pack. I debated calling a friend to invite along for a hike. Jim & Heidi Johnson? Not a chance. A perpetual round of home improvement there. Joel Baiocchi? Home improvement. Jim Ricker? Knees. Bob & Judy Suter? Always busy. The renowned Judge Sims? Scared of heights. The renowned Judge Newsom? Attacked by a wild pig in Italy long ago, feet never the same. Catherine O'Riley? Engaged. Instead, I called an old friend in the Bay Area; the line was busy. Now that the Fates themselves had confirmed that telephone calls were simply out of order, I stepped outside. Lucky had divined my intentions and began leaping for joy, yelping, rolling on the ground, dashing up the steps, etc. etc. I fired up the battered old Toyota pickup and made my way to Gold Run, and through the tortuous turns and mudholes which count for a road into the diggings.
I parked in Potato Ravine Pass and dragged the shovel and mattock from the truck. On the way in, I would dig out some manzanita stumps from the line of the trail, in that uppermost portion I have been slowly restoring over this winter. A salvage timber harvest, following a wildfire in 1960, had ruined this part of the trail, and adding insult to this ruination, a heavy crop of manzanita had flourished and thickened over the past forty years. Having cut a swath through this manzanita, it remained to clear the stumps from the trail.
So I set the pack down, put on my gloves, and got to work. A mattock is a tool like a pickax, but heavier, with one blade like an axe, and one like an adze. Mine is ancient. It is good for cutting roots. I dug up three stumps and filled the holes with good clean clay and rock fill quarried shovelful by shovelful a few yards away. Then the pack went on, the heavy tools were left behind, and it was on down the trail. I noticed with some consternation that many other manzanita stumps remained to be dug out.
In a few minutes I was passing the huge tunnel of the Gold Run Ditch & Mining Company, made in 1873. In another few minutes I reached the bridge, with its now severely delaminating plywood. This must be fixed soon. The creek was running high and clear after the recent heavy rains and with the warm day cooking the thin snowpack persisting in the upper basin of Canyon Creek. I reached the first waterfall vista point and took a break. I made some short QuickTime movies of the waterfall with my camera.
I did not intend to go all the way to the river, only to Gorge Point, which has a very warm microclimate and has good early blooms of various flower species. However, I passed the point without seeing any flowers and stopped at the Rockslide, where a short reach of the trail had been destroyed, who knows how long ago. I parked the pack and started climbing up and down the ruined section, trying to imagine how it could be repaired, what the optimal line of the restored trail would be, and so on. Descending to the base of the ruined section, I began working on a short stretch down there. For an hour or so I heaved boulders around and tried to rebuild this little part of the trail. With the help of gravity, some 200-pound-plus boulders were brought into play, and a little progress was made. Then I worked for a while on another little section, trying to make stone steps.
I have this silly idea of making this part of the trail like some mountain trails in China, in Szechuan Province, where truly massive flat rocks weighing hundreds of pounds are used as stair steps over long distances. There are some rocks of this magnitude in the rock slide area. Today, however, I was mostly working with small stuff.
The sun was beating down and I was sweating. I decided to start back up, but paused at Gorge Point, where there was a nice patch of shade close by the cliff, as the sun passed the meridian. Having stopped there I realized that two species were indeed in bloom, the Carrot family's Biscuit Root and the Mustard family's Rock Cress. I took some pictures and then packed up again. As I started up the trail I heard the sound of a helicopter. It grew loud then faded away. I could not see it.
A few yards up the trail I heard it again, loud, and looking down the creek I saw it, rising right into the narrow gorge at Gorge Point. It apparently had flown right up past the Big Waterfall, and if its position when I first saw it was any indication, it would have been so close to the falls its windshield should have been wetted by the spray. I swung the camera up and took a few pictures. It flew directly up the creek, and the pilot peered down at me as he passed, only a hundred feet away or so. Illegally low, I think. I waved.
When I reached my mattock and shovel I stopped for some more stump digging. The morning stumps were easy, the afternoon stumps were hard, very hard, and took many many swings of the heavy mattock. In fact, I had to split the stumps into sections and then attack the roots of each section in turn. Another three stumps came out. I was exhausted, thrashed in fact, not from the hiking, not from the boulder work, but from that mattock.
Such was a day on the upper half of the Canyon Creek Trail.
[The blog post above was extracted from an archive of Russell's emails to his "North Fork Trails" email distribution list.
Posted by Richard L. Towle (Russell's brother)]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)