Travelogue

Mile 0.0 of the Mojave RoadHerb was well prepared for this journey. In addition to watch endless hours of YouTube videos of 4WDs crossing the Mojave, we had several off-roading books to guide us, but by far the most comprehensive is Dennis Casebier's “Mojave Road Guide,” which gave details down to the tenths of a mile. We would have to try really hard to get lost.

I am not as much of a desert rat as Herb, but I am a history buff, so he tried to raise my enthusiasm level by telling me that the Mojave Road (all 138 miles of it) was steeped in history and pretty much unchanged since the Mojave Indians and the U.S. Mail and supply chains first crossed it.

Pictographs in Picture CanyonThe Mojave Road was originally an Indian trade route. The Mojave Indians, who lived along the Colorado River, would cross the Mojave Desert on foot to travel to the coast to trade corn and other crops for seashells. The route they chose was determined by the locations of watering holes, which fortunately were situated about every 20 to 30 miles, about the distance they could travel in one day.

The first European to use the Mojave trail was probably Father Francisco Garces in 1776, who was looking for the San Gabriel Mission, near current day Los Angeles. He did not find his way across the desert himself, but rather the Mojave Indians guided him, as they would later guide pioneers such as Jedediah Strong Smith.

Fort PiuteThe Mojave Road’s role as a major wagon trail was pretty much concentrated in a 20-year period following the Civil War. Rather than being a westward migration route, like the Oregon Trail, it was pretty much a supply and U.S. mail route in the 1860s and 1870s. Since robbing supply and mail trains was a common practice back in the day, the US Army built forts along the route at the various springs to keep the lines of communication open. By controlling the water sources, they pretty much controlled the road.

When railroads were built north and south of the Mojave Road, making crossing the desert a whole lot easier, the use of the Mojave Road declined, and the forts were abandoned. Today, a few remnants of that time still remain, making for an interesting historical journey across this barren wilderness.

Our Mojave Road Guide recommended taking 2 to 3 days to drive across, but we decided to take 4, camping 3 nights along the way, probably exiting around mile 116 rather than crossing the Mojave River.

Camping spot by Fort PiuteAround 11:00 am, we set off from the Colorado River and headed west on a dirt road. In less than a mile, we crossed the Aha Macav Parkway, and in 3.5 miles, we touched asphalt again as we crossed the Needles Highway. So far anyway, there were lots of escape routes to civilization if we got in trouble.

We continued along, always keeping our eye out for the cairns that marked the way - kind of like following the yellow brick road. When you travel from East to West, they are always on the right side, and they are quite frequent. The basic policy is to place cairns at every intersection with other roads and at major washes where the road might be hard to follow after floods. I think there were a lot more than that though, as we seemed to see one every 100 yards or so.

The telephone and power lines also helped navigation in that the guide book indicated the exact mile we would pass under one, and when we should ride parallel to them.

Sunset over Jedediah Smith ButteI would have to say that the road was a lot rougher than I expected - nothing that the 4Runner and Herb couldn’t handle, just pretty bouncy and slow.

At mile 7.6, we came to the trailhead for Picture Canyon, one of the few hikes mentioned in the “Mojave Road Guide.” We debated at first whether we should stop, as we hadn’t really gotten much mileage under our belt yet, but since we love to hike and this seemed like the best opportunity we might have along our journey, we decided to do it. After all, what were he out here for if not to explore.

This hike would not have been possible without the GPS coordinates given in the “Mojave Guide Book,” because there is no trail into Picture Canyon. With his anally retentive attention to detail, Dennis Casebier is a man after my own heart. Our only mistake was trying to hike in a straight line to the next GPS point rather than just following the wash. It just required a bit more rock scrambling and bushwhacking this way, but at least we knew we were headed in the right direction.

Campsite viewWith incredible accuracy, the GPS coordinates for the pictographs themselves were dead on. My only question was how did the Native Americans that did this artwork find this place without a GPS? We are becoming much too dependent on our technological gadgets these days.

Back at the truck, we continued on through the Piute Valley toward the Piute Range. In front of the Range was a single small cinder cone detached from the rest of the mountains, called Jedediah Smith Butte. At a junction at mile 21.8, we decided to continue straight towards the Butte along the 2-mile spur road to Fort Piute and Piute Springs, the first of the essential springs that the Mojave Indians and supply and mail wagons depended on during their crossing.

Sunrise over Jedediah Smith ButteThe road to Fort Piute was the rockiest and bumpiest yet, not sandy with a few protruding rocks as had preceded us, but babyhead rocks covering the road the entire way. At the end of the road, at mile 23.7, there were a few stone foundations marking the site of Fort Piute, which was once a military outpost manned by 18 men from 1867 to 1868, whose job it was to control the water supply so that wagons passing through would be safer from attack.

In the old days, the wagon road continued on from here, but today it is impassable and blocked by a gate. You can walk to Piute Spring from here, but it was getting late and getting out of here was going to be a slow, bumpy process.

Herb making morning coffeeInstead of driving all the way back to the main Mojave Road, we found a nice place to camp for the night with views of the Piute Range. The ground was much too rocky to set up a tent, but fortunately we have a platform in the back of the 4Runner setup for sleeping. In comes in handy when conditions are not conducive to tent camping - such as wind, rocks, and wild burros (our Death Valley nightmare).

My main problem with the platform is that there is only about a 6 inch clearance above my face when I am lying down, making me feel a bit claustrophobic. It’s fine as long as I don’t think about it too much. However, that night I did, and I actually reached over, opened the door, and stuck out my head to gasp for breath. Thankfully, Herb slept through it.

Travelogue

Pea Soup Andersen'sWe had decided to drive the Mojave Road from East to West, as that is how most people do it and the guidebooks are oriented that way in terms of mile markers. Plus, the roads are so narrow that you really don’t want to meet someone coming the other way, so going in the more popular direction would help our odds that that wouldn’t happen.

Mile 0 for the Mojave Road is in Laughlin, Nevada, on the western bank of the Colorado River. Since that was a 10 hour drive from our house, we decided to drive 7 hours the first day and stay in Barstow overnight, so we would be fresh for starting our drive across the desert.

Barstow, at the junction of I15 and I40 in Southern California, has become a common overnight stopping point from us whenever we travel to the southwestern deserts.

The drive down I5 from the Bay Area to Bakersfield can be quite boring, but we did break up the trip stopping for lunch at Pea Soup Andersen’s in Santa Nella on the way down. That windmill had been beckoning me for years every time we whizzed past it on I5.

Lolo enjoying her split pea soup at Andersen'sThe restaurant was quite warm and cozy, with an old-world Danish charm. I couldn’t help but miss my Mom. She would have loved this place - cozy booths, friendly staff, a gift shop, a 6-page menu.

We really weren’t that hungry, but we went ahead and ordered the pea soup in a bread bowl anyway - probably a mistake. It was really good, but next time I think I would get it in a plain bowl, as the delicious soup was absorbed into the bread quicker than I could get to it.

We were still full by the time we got to Barstow.

The next morning, from Barstow we made the 2 ½ hour drive to the town of Laughlin, Nevada where we stopped at a Vons for some last minute supplies and filled our tank with gas (a good thing when embarking on a desert crossing).

Travelogue

Home sweet home

Travelogue

Lake George and Lake MaryWe decided to move our operation south 50 miles or so down 395 to the town of Mammoth Lakes for more hiking, fishing, and hopefully even some natural hot springing. Plus, Hilda really had her heart set on seeing Devils Postpile, a unique 60-foot cliff of symmetrical, hexagonal, basalt columns formed over 80,000 years ago. Herb and I had been there in 2014, but were more than happy to visit it again so Hilda could get a chance to see this natural wonder.

Herb and I had left before Hilda and Paul, so we decided to stop at the US Forest Service Ranger Station in Mammoth Lakes to get information on hikes. When we asked about whether we could drive to Devils Postpile rather than take the shuttle which is mandatory during the peak season, we were told that the gates to Devils Postpile were closing at noon that very day, for the rest of the season, so that road maintenance could be done. I can’t believe we missed it by a day.

Arrival at Crystal LakeHowever, we did get some useful information. There was a Forest Service campground right behind the ranger station that accommodated large RVs. Herb still wanted to stay at the Mammoth Mountain RV Park across the road, because he wanted to have electricity so he could run the portable heater all night. Despite his years of winter camping in a tent, for the last 10 years or so he no longer likes the cold and will gladly give up scenery (at times) for the creature comforts our Polonis heater provides.

After breaking the bad news about Devils Postpile to Hilda, and watching her go through the five stages of grieving, we set up camp before setting out on a hike. We went to the commercial campground, but they chose Shady Rest, the more pristine and private forest campground. They were less than a quarter of a mile apart.

Hike to Crystal LakeOnce settled in to our respective campsites, we hopped in our Subaru (tow vehicle), picked up Hilda and Paul at their campsite, and headed to the Crystal Lake trailhead, near the Woods Lodge cabins on Lake George, about 5 miles from the center of town.

Like our hike the previous day, this one also had a lot of incredible scenery packed into a 4-mile out-and-back hike.

For the first mile and a half, the trail climbed pretty steadily, but there were plenty of views of the Mammoth Lakes Basin to distract us. At the one mile point, there was a gorgeous view of Lake Mary and Lake George behind us.

From there we continued up a series of switchbacks before beginning a slight descent down to the shores of Crystal Lake, tucked in a hollow below 10,377-foot Crystal Crag. It was a little confusing at first as to how best to get access to the lake. There are some use trails that travel part way back the steep-sloped western shore, but we took the more gently sloping paths on the east side of the lake.

Fish TalesHilda and I settled on a comfy rock, while the guys got out the rods they had been carrying in their packs and tried their luck again to see if there were any interested trout. After a bit, we heard Paul yell that he got one, so Hilda and I ran towards his voice, hoping to get a picture of his fish, as we had missed getting to him in time the day before. Running uphill at that altitude was definitely felt.

Still we did not get to him before he had thrown in back, but fortunately he took a picture of his prize with his iPhone. It was a beaut, and one which we couldn’t definitively identify. The debate became Cutthroat or Wild Golden trout. Paul posted a picture of it on the Eastern Sierra Fly Fishing Facebook Forum, and within minutes, he got dozens of responses from various fishermen stating their point of view. Men certainly do love talking about fishing - probably as much as they enjoy the act itself.

Hot CreekWhile this was going on, the weather was changing significantly - the wind picked up and clouds had pretty much obscured the sunshine that had been keeping us warm. What a difference. On went our down jackets, hats, and gloves for the hike back. We were quite cold by the time we got back to the car.

Back in town we grabbed a cup of coffee and some cookies at the Erick Schat’s bakery to warm up before heading over to the Mammoth Brewing Company for a well-deserved beer and a bite to eat. The food was pretty much just okay, but the views from the large windows and the beers made up for it.

Paul continued to monitor the Cutthroat vs. Golden debate on his phone and by the end of our meal announced Wild Golden trout as the winner. There were almost a hundred fishermen weighing in on the debate.

Outlaws hit the Upper Owens RiverThe next day we decided to explore the Upper Owens River, another one of the Eastern Sierra’s acclaimed fishing spots, which oxbows its way through a beautiful meadow in the Long Valley Caldera. Herb and I had been to the area before, not to fish, but to soak in it one of its many lovely hot springs.

Our Subaru, which we tow behind the motorhome, was the perfect vehicle for exploring the dirt roads through the Long Valley, so we picked up Hilda and Paul and headed south on 395 for about 3 miles before turning left onto Hot Creek Hatchery Road, which runs alongside the Owens River.

In about 3 miles we stopped at the Hot Creek Geothermal Area, which used to be a popular soaking spot, but has been closed and fenced off for some time because the water temperature has risen to a point that would scald anyone who entered. However, it is still an interesting and pretty place to visit.

Hike to Crowley Lake ColumnsWe walked down a paved path along a fenced walkway, overlooking two beautiful aquamarine hot springs feeding into a winding cold-water creek. It is the cold water creek upstream from the hot spot that is known to have good fishing, but alas, someone had beaten us to the spot and didn’t look like he wanted us to join him.

So, we continued along the dirt road that traced the river, with Paul getting out every once in a while to feel the temperature of the river, in the aim of selecting a spot where the water was cool enough for any self-respecting trout to enjoy. Finally we found a spot that was deemed to be “just right” and settled in - Hilda and I in our Crazy Creeks and Paul and Herb with their rods.

Since the Owens River runs through an open meadow, there is not much shrubbery along its banks, which is great in terms of not getting a lure stuck in a bush, but bad in that the trout can see you coming. For the spectators the view of the surrounding mountains was great and watching our husbands sneaking up on fish and trying to outsmart them was quite entertaining.

Hilda spots the ColumnsAlthough there were several nibbles, no fish was landed, so after about an hour we ate our lunch and decided to set out on a quest to find the mysterious stone columns of Crowley Lake, which Herb had discovered on a website called Atlas Obscura, which has a database of interesting hidden places and scientific marvels around the world. It’s really worth checking out.

We entered Crowley Lake Stone Columns in as a destination on Google Maps and sure enough it came up with directions to the Crowley Lake Stone Columns parking lot, 22 miles away, some of which was on paved road and some on dirt. The Subaru was a pretty capable 4WD vehicle, so we decided to try it.

Everything was going famously until the last 2 miles, when we came upon an extremely steep uphill, with giant gullies in it. We walked up and down it, but just didn’t feel comfortable trying it. Besides, we were hikers, and Google Maps said we were just 1.7 miles away.

Lolo approaches the ColumnsSo, we parked the Subaru off to the side and set out on foot along a road, which eventually did bring us to a parking lot high above the beach, where we could actually see the stone columns off in the distance down on the beach. We proceeded down a fairly steep, sandy hill, winding our way through brush until we got to the beach. From there it was just a short walk to what looked like a man-made colonnade, with each column about 15 to 20 feet high, connected by high arches. They looked like they were part of an ancient Moorish temple. They were absolutely fascinating.

As we approached them, we met two gentleman coming from the other direction. Not having seen a car in the parking lot, we asked them where they came from. They said they had driven there to a parking lot on the other side of the columns in a vehicle with far less off road capability than our Subaru. They said that they had gotten driving directions at the Forest Service Ranger Station right across the street from our campground. Oh well, we needed the exercise anyway.

Crowley Lake Stone ColumnsWe were at a total loss as to how these strange pillar-like formations came to be, so of course we reached for our cell phones and googled it. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones stumped as to their creation, and it was only recently that a team of researchers from UC Berkeley came up with a theory.

As I am not a geologist, I will try to summarize what we read in an article in the Los Angeles Times.

For eons, the columns were buried and hidden, but when the Crowley Lake Reservoir was created in 1941, its pounding waves began carving out the softer material at the base of the cliffs (made of volcanic pumice and ash), eventually exposing the columns.

Still, how did the columns get there in the first place??? I’ll try to give it a go:

From inside the ColumnsThe whole Long Valley area is a large caldera formed hundreds of thousands of years ago after a violent volcanic explosion, which sent rivers of lava cascading over the surrounding desert which had just been covered by falling ash, instantaneously baking it to a layer of stone, known as tuff.

Now, this is where they really start to lose me.

The columns were created by snowmelt seeping down into, and steam rising up out of, the still hot tuff. The water boiled, creating “evenly spaced convection cells similar to heat pipes.” The tiny spaces in the convection pipes were cemented in place by erosion-resistant minerals.

Even if you don’t understand any of that, which I am not sure I do, they are really interesting and fun to look at.

We couldn’t leave the Long Valley without soaking in one of its beautiful natural hot springs, so we retraced our steps up the hill and back to the car and drove all the way back to one of our favorites, the Crab Cooker, a remote pool that we had discovered last year.

Horizontals among the VerticalBecause it can only be reached by 4WDing over a rough road, it is much less visited than the more accessible Wild Willy’s, so hopefully we would find it empty. We also hoped we would find it hot, because it had not been on our last visit.

Well, we did find it empty, which was great, but unfortunately it was a bit cool. However, Herb (my hero) found the valve between the hot water source and the pool and opened it, allowing steaming hot water to flow into the pool. While that was going on, we went back to the car to get our bathing suits and towels. By the time we returned, which couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes, the pool had gotten almost too hot, so Herb quickly closed the valve.

Crab Cooker in Long ValleyThe air was a bit chilly, so the water felt divine, and the views of the surrounding mountains was pretty incredible. This pool was just too good to have to ourselves for long, so we were soon joined by three people, probably half our age. We spent the next half hour sharing stories of our various travels, and I would have to say that for their age, they had seen a lot.

What a full and wonderful day it had been - fishing, off-roading, hiking, a geological wonder, and a lovely hot spring to wrap it up.

Travelogue

Foliage along the Virginia Lakes TrailAs we usually do when driving across the Sierra in our motorhome, we took the slightly longer route of going along South Lake Tahoe on Route 50 and up towards Gardnerville, NV, before heading south on 395 to avoid the steeper mountain passes, such as Sonora and Monitor Passes.

The drive was very pretty, as the aspens had already taken on a beautiful golden glow, highlighting them against the usual greenery of this stunning mountain landscape.

We met up with Paul and Hilda at the Bridgeport Reservoir Marina and Campground where we had made camping reservations for the night. The campground was small and not very fancy in terms of facilities, but it did have the advantage of being located right on a reservoir, known for its great trout fishing. Also, right beyond the dam at the end of the Reservoir, was the east fork of the Walker River, another theoretically productive fishing ground.

East Walker RiverThe guys couldn’t miss - the pressure was on. That would be tomorrow’s activity, as it was already too late in the day to do much other than set up camp and make dinner. It’s on cold nights in the Sierra that our cozy Lazy Daze really comes into its own, as we can comfortably entertain four people (we have done as many as eight) in the back living area. To think we almost thought of not bringing it and camping in the back of our 4Runner instead. What were we thinking? Thankfully, we returned to our senses in time.

The next morning, we set out to explore the East Walker River, just up the road from our campground. A little pathway wound its way along the river, giving Hilda and I a place to set up our chairs and watch our men deliver dinner - just kidding. The East Walker is actually catch-and-release, so we had wisely food shopped ahead.

Virginia Lakes TrailHerb experienced a bad bout of “gear envy” as Paul donned his fancy new waders and vest and began setting up his very nice fly rod. He looked like he belonged on the cover of Trout Unlimited. Fortunately for Herb, the fish didn’t care, and they each managed to land a very nice trout.

I’m not particularly great at just sitting around watching other people do fun things, so I was glad when we decided to keep the fishing to just the morning and spend the afternoon hiking.

Hilda and Paul are great hiking partners. In fact, they are the only other couple we know (with the exception of our kids and their significant others) that are hardy enough to do the distances and elevation gains we like to do. Once again, we thank Andrew for finding such compatible in-laws for us to play with.

Virginia Lakes TrailWe’ve done a lot of hikes in the Eastern Sierra, so it’s always nice to find something new. We chose the Virginia Lakes Trail, both for its highly rated scenery, as well as for the fact that it was listed as a great spot to see fall foliage. Plus its 5 to 6 miles distance was just about right for an afternoon amble.

We drove 13 miles south on 395 and turned right onto the Virginia Lakes Road, which we followed for about 6 miles before getting to the trailhead at the Big Virginia Lake day-use area. We hadn’t even left the car yet, and we were already at a beautiful alpine lake. The trailhead was set at 9,500 feet, so we knew we were going to have to pace ourselves, as we were not yet acclimated to this high of an elevation.

Virginia LakesAs we started off on the trail through a forest of golden quaking aspen, we knew this hike was going to be great. In less than a half-mile, we came upon Blue Lake, the first of five small alpine lakes we would pass along the way, each of which was set amidst a backdrop of colorful 12,000+ feet mountain peaks.

We continued on past Cooney Lake and the Frog Lakes, all still less than two miles from the trailhead. When ranking trails on the basis of scenery per mile, this one was certainly a winner. It helped distract us from the fact that we were continuously climbing since we left the car. After the Frog Lakes, the trail did begin to climb a bit more steeply as it headed towards 11,100-foot Summit Pass looming before us.

However, that Pass was not on our agenda for the day, so after about 2.75 miles, we turned around and retraced our steps back down to the trailhead. Even though I do prefer loop hikes, the scenery on the way back on an out-and-back, often feels quite different than the way in.

Virginia Lakes TrailLet’s just say we were very satisfied with our hiking selection for the day.

Before heading back to Bridgeport, we drove a few miles south on 395 to one of our favorite viewpoints of Mono Lake and the surrounding Mono Basin. You’ll know you’re at the right spot when you see the hundreds of bumper stickers decorating the guard rail.

Then it was back to the Bridgeport Reservoir Marina and Campground for another night of cozying up in the back of the Lazy Daze, eating dinner, sipping wine, and listening to our men describe the now legendary trout that they had caught that morning.

Travelogue

Almost backThe lighting was so beautiful over the lake in the morning that we lingered for quite a while sipping coffee, eating our granola bars, and taking photographs. Plus, this was our last night on the trail, so we wanted to savor it before our trek back to civilization. Oh, and I almost forgot - it was our 33rd wedding anniversary as well! Herb is such a romantic!

Today our hike back out would be our longest of the trip - 9 miles, although most of it would be downhill. The first 2 miles back to the main Canyon Creek Trail were the hardest as the trail was quite rocky and required careful foot placement to avoid twisting an ankle. After that it was pretty much smooth sailing through familiar terrain.

I Made It !!!Since it was Friday, we did pass quite a few parties hiking in for the weekend. However, I think the threat of smoke was still keeping the crowds away.

The hike out was uneventful and we were getting so used to carrying a load on our backs that I barely even thought about it anymore. However, I was still quite happy to see the car, and even happier at the thought of having lunch in Weaverville on our drive back - a possible trip highlight!

Weaverville did not disappoint. It is a very cute town with quite a few eating establishments to cater to very hungry hikers at the end of their trips. We ate at the highly recommended Mamma Llama's Eatery and Cafe.

It had been a great trip - beautiful location, reasonable number of hiking miles per day, and just the right number of nights - A little short on the wine though.

Travelogue

Finding our way between Upper and Lower Canyon Creek LakesOnce again, we decided to take the “high road” over Lower Canyon Creek Lake to get back to the main trail. However, this time we wound up going too high and couldn’t find a way to work our way back down to the Canyon Creek Trail. Every way forward seemed to include a sharp drop-off. Eventually, we gave up moving forward and retraced our steps back from whence we came until we found a cairn we must have missed, which marked a way to get back down to the main trail.

After hiking about 3 ½ miles (should have been more like 3 without our mishap), we came to the junction for Boulder Creek Lakes, which said 1 ½ miles, but turned out to be closer to 2. I thought this was going to just be a quick, easy hike in, but it turned out to be a lot steeper and rougher than I anticipated. Plus, it was really hot out and most of the trail was exposed to the sun. Needless to say, I got a bit cranky.

A well-need rest on Boulder Creek LakeWe weren’t too far along before we ran into a couple, about our age (suck it Irish guy from yesterday!) on their way out. The woman looked exhausted and overheated and none too happy. They said they left Boulder Creek Lake early because of the smoke. Since the skies had cleared out yesterday after similar warnings to retreat, we decided to take our chances and forge on. The couple said that there was only one person at the lake and that he was planning to head out as well. If the skies cleared, this could actually work out to our benefit, as the lake is usually crowded with campers.

As we continued up the steep, rocky trail, the smoke did get worse and so did my mood. I started questioning Herb about the wisdom of this. What if we got caught in a forest fire? He gave his usual lecture about me worrying too much and we forged on.

Our campsite at Boulder Creek LakesJust as I was in full whine mode, complaining about the smoke and the heat, we came across a lovely stream, where we refilled our Smartwater bottles and Herb wet his buff and put it over my head to cool me down and shut me up. It worked on both counts and before I knew it, we were at looking down at a lovely alpine lake set in a granite basin, with rugged peaks surrounding it. Morale was picking up.

We found a good campsite alongside the lake near some rocky shelves to sunbathe on, and even swim from if we weren’t such weenies. As foretold to us, there was only one guy on the other side of the lake who was packing up to go. He offered us his spot, but I was hot and tired and didn’t want to put my backpack back on. Our site was actually quite perfect.

During the afternoon, one other couple did hike in to the other side of the lake, jump in for a swim (showoffs), and then turn around and hike back out again, so it looked like we would actually have this incredible spot all to ourselves.

Lolo enjoying her morning coffee on Boulder Creek LakeWe spent the afternoon reading, fishing, and dipping our toes in the water. That evening we went for a stroll to the other side of the lake, reconfirming that we actually did have the best camping spot of all. A rockfall prevented us from continuing around the lake, so we retraced our way back to our home for the night.

Herb had had the foresight to fill up our found Platypus water bag and left it in the sun, so we actually had some warm water to take a quick rinse off.

Feeling refreshed and somewhat clean, we settled onto our rock shelf by the lake, got out our little supply of cheese and crackers, my lake-chilled wine, and Herb’s vodka and gatorade powder (yuch!) and just gazed at the incredible scenery before us.

Before it go too dark, we made our dinner of Knorr’s rice and salmon and crawled into our cozy tent.

The lighting the next morning over the lake was breathtaking, and the full moon behind us had still not set adding to an already awesome scene. What a place to enjoy a morning coffee!

Travelogue

Looking out over Canyon CreekAfter some coffee and Nature Valley Oats ‘N Honey granola bars (we decided to forgo the oatmeal this morning), we reloaded our packs and we set off on the trail north towards Upper Canyon Creek.

From the junction, the trail began a moderate climb - nothing too tough, just pretty much a steady uphill. Conditions weren’t particularly great, as smoke had settled in overnight, leaving visibility pretty poor.

We eventually came to a spot where a tiny stream crossed the trail. It was tiny now, but our neighbors who had hiked this in July had faced a lot more challenging stream crossings than we would be dealing with in late September. We crossed this little stream three times as we followed a series of switchbacks up the canyon.

At about 5 miles from the trailhead (2 miles into our hike today), we came across the first of three waterfalls along the trail. While not as impressive as it would have been during the spring, the falls and pools were pretty and served as a good source of water. Herb and I had decided to carry two 1-liter Smartwater bottles each, which we would refill along the way as needed, using our Sawyer Squeeze water filter on top of the active shared bottle. Even at this time of year, we had no trouble finding places to refill.

Herb hiking up to Upper Canyon Creek LakeAt about 6 miles, we met a couple coming the other direction, saying that they had camped at Boulder Creek Lakes the night before, but the smoke was so bad that you couldn’t see a thing. This was certainly disappointing, but since we were all the way here, we decided to forge on to Upper Creek Canyon and just hope that the skies cleared. A little while further along the trail, we met another girl who said she was also hiking out because of the smoky conditions.

Continuing to moderately climb, we passed the junction for the spur trip to Boulder Creek Lakes (6.5 miles from the trailhead) and continued north to our planned destination at Upper Creek Canyon Lake. As we did so, the skies were becoming clearer, so hopefully we had made the right choice to continue on.

Approaching Upper Canyon Creek LakeShortly after the junction we came across another hiker, probably in his 40s, with a thick Irish brogue, moving along quite quickly with just a daypack on his back. I was envious of his light load. We spoke to him for awhile, sharing stories of trails and places we loved. At one point, he started to say something like, “I give you guys credit for still doing…” and then caught himself, realizing that he was basically calling us too old to do hikes like this.

After we left him, Herb and I had a good laugh, as we are still 28 in our minds, and continued dragging our feeble bodies onward.

Eventually, as we approached Lower Canyon Creek Lake, our so-easy-to-follow trail turned to granite slabs with cairns to guide us along the right path. We made our way down to the lake and even briefly considered camping on it, before deciding to go all the way to Upper Canyon Creek Lake. The west side of the lake had a path alongside it, but the east side was impassable with the Sawtooth Mountains looming above it.

We deliberated for awhile about whether to take the low road alongside the lake, or the high road up and over the granite slabs we had just come from. A hiker we had met earlier had advised us to take the high road, so that is what we did. The scenery along the way was phenomenal. It was a little confusing, but we eventually found ourselves at the stream that connected the two lakes, which we had to cross over to get to the east side of Upper Creek Canyon Lake. I can imagine that this is quite a difficult passage during the spring, but for us, it was an easy hop across rocks without even getting our feet wet.

View down on Lower and Upper Canyon Creek LakesThere didn’t seem to be many spots to camp - you are supposed to only camp on a spot that has already been leveled out for a tent - but we found a really nice option on the eastern shore of the lake, complete with small boulders to put our stuff on (rather than in the dirt) and a Platypus 4-liter water bag that someone left behind that would be perfect in providing us with a well-needed shower. There was even a “flutter” (I looked that one up) of Monarch butterflies by the water to greet us. It was quite lovely.

We set about the business of setting up camp. Herb put the tent up, inflated the mattresses, etc., while I tried to construct a little dam out of rocks at the edge of the lake where I could place my green tea bottle full of wine to chill it down. Everyone has their priorities.

It was quite surprisingly warm (near 80), so we spent the afternoon reading and fishing before getting down to the nightly shores of showering (so good!) and making dinner.

Our campsite on Upper Canyon Creek LakeSpeaking of dinner, let me describe a bit our menu selection. Rather than going with freeze-dried backpacking food, such as Mountain House, which is expensive and not that great, we bought Knorr’s Rice and Idahoan powdered potatoes and used one of those as a base to add pouches of either salmon, tuna, or lemon chicken. It was actually quite tasty, and I think better and cheaper than the freeze-dried options. Oh, and of course, my chilled Chardonnay.

It did get cold during the night, but not too bad - probably in the 40s. Probably the chilliest time is in the morning when all the surrounding granite has had a chance to cool down.

After our standard breakfast fare of coffee and Nature Valley Oat ‘N Honey bars, we hit the trail again, with the intention of camping at Boulder Creek Lakes.

Travelogue

Into the WoodsAs I mentioned in the overview, our trip itinerary was a 3-night backpack along the Canyon Creeks Trail, with a side trip to Boulder Creeks Lake, about a 22-mile adventure.

The drive from our home to the trailhead for the Canyon Creeks Hike was about 5 hours from our home. Getting there was very well spelled out in the guide books. Before getting to the trailhead, we stopped at the Weaverville Ranger Station to pick up a wilderness permit at the self-serve kiosk right outside the building. Herb had already obtained the required campfire permit online. We also signed a registration book where we listed our planned itinerary.

From the town of Weaverville, which is about 45 miles west of Redding, we continued straight on Highway 299 for 8 miles to the tiny town of Junction City, where we turned right onto Canyon Creek Road, and continued another 13.8 miles to a large parking lot at the end of the road, right next to the Ripstein Campground.

We arrived at the trailhead around 4:00 pm, just enough time to do our 3-mile hike into an area called the Sinks, where we planned to camp for the night. Our neighbors, as well as the guide books, had described this as a good place to stop on a first night.

Our campsite at the SinksWe did the final checking of gear, loaded our packs on our backs, and set off on the trail for Canyon Creek. After a short distance, we came to a junction, Bear Creek to the right and Canyon Creek to the left.

The trail was pretty nondescript - no big views, just a peaceful forest of dogwood, maple, oak, and Douglas fir. We knew we were supposed to come to the Sinks at about the 3-mile point, so when we saw a spur trail off to the left at 2.9 miles, we took it. During the spring, there is supposed to be a little island nestled between two arms of a creek, but now everything was bone dry. We followed a dry creek bed until we found a spot flat enough to camp for the night.

I wasn’t particularly impressed, but Herb said that it was probably quite nice in the spring when water was flowing. We set up the tent and made dinner before it got dark.