A week cycling in VA/NC, fall '09

[This journal is also on crazyguyonabike.org]
Its cold up here in Michigan, and I've got a week free. What better excuse?!?
My brother lives in Virginia, so I'll drive that far, and cycle the area.

On this trip I hope to use warmshowers.org for lodging, with camping as a backup. I'm looking forward to meeting hosts! I hosted one cycletourist at my home this past summer.

For equipment, I have a rebuilt Schwinn LeTour, repainted metallic gold flake black and named Bagheera. Panniers are old Canondales, I cook on a MSR Simmer-lite stove.

Clothing is always difficult at this season, as mornings will be cold (possible snow) but days will be warm (I expect 50s and 60sF). I've got wool tights with zip-off quickdry pants, thermax top, long sleeve wool top, sweater, and windbreaker. A headband and gloves with overmits should keep me warm. There's rain in the forecast, and I've got a cyclist's cape and fenders for that, but truly I hope to find shelter should the clouds open up.

Time to hit the road!

On the road!
Saturday November 28, 2009, 28 miles (45 km) - Total so far: 28 miles (45 km)
My brother escorted me down the huckleberry rail-trail as far as Christiansburg where he turned back toward home. It was good to ride together. He's on a 17lb carbon fiber bike, and I'm fully loaded. Guess who can climb hills and accelerate faster!

I turned south on 8 through Riner, and as the sun approached the horizon I began looking for a spot to pitch a tent for the night. There are houses and farms pretty much everywhere, the little valleys are choked with brambles, and where there is a patch of accessible woods, there's a house across the street. Sometimes there's a patch of woods but its at the top of a road cut and inaccessible. I finally find one off a side road, make a simple dinner and crawl into the tent for the night.

Fabulous day, but getting rather long
Sunday November 29, 2009, 62 miles (100 km) - Total so far: 90 miles (145 km)
The night was clear and cool, a nearly full moon and bright stars. A buck came snorting around nearby, pawing the ground. Was I invading his territory?

I was on the road shortly before dawn, and the first downhill was quite cold, as there was frost at lower elevations and the wind chill bit my fingers. As the sun climbs into the cloudless sky, the day warms. Awesome. Breakfast at a diner in Floyd, the county seat, and a rather alternative minded town, judging from the number of shops selling organic hemp clothing and the like.


Up and over the Blue Ridge Parkway on 860, and down. What a down! You can have your roller coasters, your Six Flags, Cedar point, your Disney... That is one wild ride. Twisty, narrow, good pavement, and it just keeps getting steeper! I sure wouldn't want to climb it. Sorry but no pictures of it, as my hands were on the handlebars the whole way!

Hope springs eternal. I was running low on water, and the map didn't indicate any towns coming up. But there, beside the road is a developed spring! Just a trickle, but adequate for my needs.

The weather forecast called for winds out of the northwest 15-20mph, gusts to 30. So I had planned a southeast run. No. They're from the southeast. Not only am I climbing (and descending) all these hills, but I have a headwind. I had hoped to reach a warmshowers host in Chapel Hill tonight, but that just ain't gonna happen. So I called and will arrive tomorrow instead.



I crossed the line into North Carolina, and the next town is Eden. Not as in 'garden of' but more like 'strip mall of'. I had hoped for wifi, but no.

Another stealth campsite in a patch of woods by the road.

More weather woes, headed north
Tuesday December 1, 2009, 42 miles (68 km) - Total so far: 132 miles (212 km)
The forecast is for possible rain tonight and tomorrow and snow in the morning. I found a patch of woods off a side road for my tent. There was no rain and the morning is warm. What's with these forecasts??? Detoured to Yanceyville due to a limited access highway going my way, and no obvious alternative. On and off light drizzle until Yanceyville, where it gets heavier and I find a haven in the library and connect to the internet.

With more information the decision is made, we're not going all the way to Chapel Hill. I had selected that destination because I thought I was going to have this great tailwind, and there are a bunch of warmshowers hosts there. It feels like a bit of a failure, cutting short the trip, but that is part of the purpose of this trip. To explore limits, to dabble in flexibility, to check out equipment successes, failures, things forgotten, and things brought but not needed, and to meet random people out there.

So I turned north to Danville. More on and off drizzle, mostly off and very light. I found a library again and got connected. As I was about to leave, the rains intensified. No problem, back into the library!

The rain let up to a drizzle, so I headed out. But then it got heavy again. So I took shelter under the overhanging roof of an abandoned car dealership. And when it finally stopped, it was almost dark. What to do? I had hoped to be warm and dry at a warmshowers host tonight, and I know the likelyhood of finding a place to pitch a tent here in the city or for an hours' ride out of here is slim. And I'm surrounded by strip mall and... hotels.

There are benefits though. I'm warm and dry and have internet. And I washed all the sweat and road grime off me. But dang, these hotel rooms are sterile.
Nice day again.
Wednesday December 2, 2009, 45 miles (72 km) - Total so far: 177 miles (285 km)
Nice day again, made it through the rest of Danville and on to route 58, which had lots of high speed traffic, and just a few feet of shoulder. Yuck. And on into Martinsville, which seems to be a prosperous town. Had lunch at a place with wifi, and stopped at the Virginia Museum of Natural History. There was an interesting display there of the history of a local park. It seems there was once a very popular swimming lake there (whites only) and when they were forced to integrate, they instead closed the park. Perhaps this is why I find so few parks or public spaces in the towns I pass.

As dusk was falling I found a two track which lead to a small dammed pond. There's a small cinder block building here, and with rain in tomorrow's forecast, I put all my gear in there, and pitched my tent nearby.

Rain and an abandoned cabin
Thursday December 3, 2009, 20 miles (32 km) - Total so far: 197 miles (317 km)
I hit the road an hour before daybreak, as I knew the rain would be coming. Alas it began just as I started out. I donned raingear and continued and it let up after an hour. Soon I am starting the climb back up the hill that I had enjoyed so much coming down last Sunday. But now I'm on Rte 8 and it is much less steep.

The rains have begun again, and I take shelter under the overhang of a closed restaurant. When it stops I grind out a few more miles until more rains come. This time I find shelter in an abandoned cabin just off the road. Its about 11am. I worry that someone might come and tell me to get the %@#! off his property, but nobody pays any attention. The rain has reduced visibility, and drivers are all focused on the road.

The cabin is about 16x26 feet, with a stone fireplace and chimney at one end, a front and back door, and two windows, but no glass and no doors. The roof is intact and I slowly dry out while I read and collect and boil water. I'm so glad I brought a book! The rains never let up. Many hours later darkness comes, and I spend the night.

There's an odd thing about this cabin. The floor (which is now uneven and wavy as the whole building prepares to descend the hill) was originally built at an angle. At one end the ceiling (open rafters) is 7ft, at the other it is 8ft. I wonder why.

Last day out
Friday December 4, 2009, 43 miles (69 km) - Total so far: 240 miles (386 km)
My mileage was so short yesterday I knew I had to make up for it today. So I was on the road before dawn and was rewarded with sunrise from the top of the ridge.

Here I got on the Blue Ridge Parkway, headed North. Its a beautiful road, maintained by the National Park Service. And the weather clears nicely so the sun can warm the day. A strong and gusty wind picks up out of the west too. Headwind.

I ride back through Floyd and Riner, then the massive strip malls and shopping centers sprawled over the entire north end of Christiansburg, and onto the quiet and peaceful Huckleberry rail-trail to Blacksburg. As I start down the trail the temperature drops. But I'm almost there.

I pulled into the driveway about 2pm.
Conclusion
Friday December 4, 2009, 43 miles (69 km) - Total so far: 240 miles (386 km)
I had planned this trip based on weather. Bah. Weather is far too fickle a thing for planing cycletours. 'Twould be better to plan based on geography, topography, areas of interest, local events and the like. There are some excellent cycling routes in this area, including the Blue Ridge parkway which I cycled a short section of.

I had hoped to use the Warmshowers.com network to break up the camping. But the distances I needed to cover proved to be too great to get there, especially when combined with headwinds that I had expected to be tailwinds, and trying to ride across the natural lay of the land (hills here are long ridges that run to the northeast, I was going southeast)

Equipment worked out quite well in general. Outdoor activities at this time of year are always a challenge with how to dress. Cold mornings, warm in the middle of the day, generating heat while climbing, and needing wind protection and insulation for the downhills. I was frequently stopping to put on or take off a layer.

The computer I am writing this on has been a source of frustration. This is the all solid-state notebook from HP. The idea being that with no hard drive and no CD drive, there are no moving parts that be vulnerable to damage. There's only one moving part. The hinge. And it failed! It still works, but I'll be taking it in for service once I'm home. Its also an incredibly slow machine. I would not recommend this computer for at least a few years until they can work the bugs out.

I kept notes of things I should've brought along. Here it is:

Ziploc bags for re-packaging stuff from the stores along the way. For example, I bought a container of dried fruit. But when I had eaten half of it, there was a lot of wasted space inside the container. Transfer to a ziploc and problem solved. Also good for keeping the computer and my book dry.
Oil for chain. Duh. Especially after riding in rain.
I bought maps along the way. Relying on mapquest or googlemaps is not much of an option. Especially if it means that you have to get the computer out when its raining. Paper maps don't like rain either, but they can be replaced for five bucks at the next convenience store.
I should get some booties for sleeping, as my toes were often cold. If they could double as house slippers that'd be great.
Its good to have a grease rag. I had a couple of bandannas, but was reluctant to get them all black with chain grease.
Nail clipper.
I need to re-locate head lights and tail lights so they are not blocked by panniers and gear tied to the rack. I hadn't anticipating riding in the dark, but I often arose before sunrise and started out while it was still dark.
Hand lotion. For wind burn, dry air in hotels, chapping.

So, that's my little trip. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and perhaps I'll see some of you out there on the road next time.

Special thanks to my brother for hosting me and allowing me to leave my car at his place. Also to the warmshowers hosts who responded and offered hospitality, even though I didn't take advantage of it. Maybe next time.

Gary

Presidential range, 2009

Journal
Aug 17-21, 2009
White Mountains, NH
Irene and Gary

Mom & Dad dropped us off at the beginning of the Davis Path, after having left Peter's car on Hwy 2 west of Gorham. The sun had already set, so in nearly pitch dark we crossed the Saco river, and found a campsite.

Tuesday morning we enjoyed cranberry nut muffins, made with some of the hickory nuts we'd harvested last fall. Then up the trail to Crawford peak. As we near the top we find blueberries beside the trail. We eat many and half fill a camping bowl. So very good!

After the long pull up Crawford, the trail gentles out somewhat and we pass by Resolution and climb Stairs Mtn. But after Crawford the blueberries were few and far between. The temperature and humidity are both very high and our shirts are soaked. Stairs gives us a wonderful view to the southeast on a bare rock ledge with some nice camping possibilities in the woods behind us. Its a long hike over small summits to Davis peak where the views are spectacular. Its a broadly rounded dome, but the trees are all stunted and we can see 360 degrees, to Stairs, Resolution, and Crawford behind us, and ahead over Isolation and to the Presidential range. To the East are the Carter peaks and Wildcat, and there are ranges beyond in all directions fading to purple. The guide book (1966, the same one we carried when I was a kid) tells of a spring just of the summit but it is dry.

Next is Isolation, where we take a short spur trail to our first 4000 footer. The sun is getting low by now, as is our water supply. At the intersection with the Isolation trail is sign for a tent site. Its a nice site but dry. The map suggests there's a creek to the north and downhill, so we head out in the fading light and I bushwhack to a small trickle. Back at camp I make the fixings for tacos while Irene rigs her hammock. The skies are dark by the time we finish dinner, and we're soon asleep after a long hot day.

Wednesday breaks with lots of wind swaying the trees above us. After a simple breakfast of granola we hit the trail. There is a nice spring up the trail, and soon we are above timberline. Wow! Mountains and more mountains fill our view to the south, east and west, with cloud-capped Washington dominating the north. Without the protection of the trees, the wind shows its full strength. Its hard to walk. We take breaks when we get protection behind rocks or small groves of stunted trees. Well, ok. I take a break while Irene shucks her pack and scampers up a boulder or two. The wind rippling the alpine grasses reminds Irene of Rohan.

The Davis path meets the Glen Boulder trail and Boot Spur trails, then arcs to the west around the head of Oakes gulf. We take the Camel trail to Lakes of the Clouds hut, and meet our first people since yesterday morning! We've been alone on the trail since Desolation peak. After a long break at the hut, we scamper up Mt Munroe for a fabulous and windy view.

The peak of Washington is obscured with intermittent clouds and we waffle over bagging it or not. We do. And its cloudy and windy and full of people who rode the train up or drove their car. We briefly enter the gift shop and scoff at the trinkets and chat with the bored checkout clerk.

There's a cog railroad engine and car waiting to descend. This one is diesel powered. When I was last here (1970s) they were all steam. We spoke with an employee who told us they still run the old steamers too.

At the Tip Top house we learn that the winds now are about 30mph. This morning (as we were hiking around the head of Oakes gulf) it was averaging 50 at the summit. The peak recorded today was just over 70. No wonder we found it hard to walk amid the jumbled stones that serve as a trail. We also learn of Marty the cat. For many years one of the employees at the weather observatory, named Marty, gave the current conditions at the peak on channel 8 TV. He was quite a character and had a thick down east accent.

Time to head down the hill. We're following the Gulfside trail to Clay, Jefferson, and beyond. This is also the AT. We follow the cairns through the fog, and cross the railroad tracks. There's a pile of rocks nearby so we hunker down behind it for a snack and to wait. The wait is not long, and soon the sound of an engine joins the sound of wind. After a few minutes the car and engine appear out of the clouds, chug by, and disappear again up the hill. We take pictures of it while the passengers take pictures of us. The fog thickens, and we can only see one cairn ahead of us. The scudding mist turns to blowing rain, and we are soon soaked despite any efforts at protection. The path becomes a creek. At Jewel trail we head down, hoping to reach treeline and a place to pitch a tent. But Irene is getting chilled, so when we encounter a reasonably wide and level spot in the middle of the trail, but still above timberline, we decide to call it home for the night. The rain has stopped and the wind abated some, but nightfall is only a few hours away. So we pitch the tent and change into dryer clothes, and cook lentil soup. Two hikers go by and are sympathetic to our situation.

The rains stay away all night, and by morning the wind is a gentle breeze. We greet a beautiful morning with clear skies and a great view to the north beyond Mansfield station. There's fog down in the valleys way down where people live. First there is a spot of orange sunlight on the tip of a far peak. Then one by one the other peaks greet the sun. We're on a northern slope below a big mountain, so we don't see the sun until we've hiked back up Jewel trail, rejoined Gulfside, and hiked a ways.

We summit Jefferson and chat with another couple there. The woman is quite a chatterbox, while her husband barely says a word. Then down through Edmunds Col. We take a long break in a meadow beyond the col for a snack and to spread out our wet gear – tent, sleeping bags, clothing, and let it dry in the light wind, bright sun and dry air.

Most of the hikers we meet are going between Lakes and Madison, the two huts along this ridge. Some have come from farther huts. Their packs are light. At Peabody spring we meet a group who started in Georgia and are headed for Mt Katadin in Maine. All the men sport full beards, prompting Irene to comment that “there are dwarfs in the mountains!” To complete the image, the shortest one conjures up a tune on his recorder during a rest stop.

We drop our packs again and scamper up Adams with just a bottle of water and a granola bar. At the peak are two men hiking together and a solo man. The solo sees us sharing one granola bar and offers us more food, thinking we'd come all this way with just that. The peak both here and at Jefferson are a jumble of jagged boulders all covered in lichen. From here we push on toward Madison hut where we take another long break. The staff has just changed from the summer crew to fall, and an expert is teaching them the power system – solar cells, solar hot water pre-heater, wind generator, batteries, propane in the kitchen, etc. Back at Lakes they were holding class in first aid and rescue.

We have our choice of trails down from here, and we choose the Watson path. But first we hike the Pine Link to join the Watson, with plans to detour up Mt. Madison at the intersection. Irene's ankle has been bothering her – she sprained it a few weeks ago – and the Pine Link proves to be too much. Several of these trails above timberline are little more than a row of cairns through a boulder field on the side of the mountain, and Pine Link is the worst of them. We progress through half a mile hopping from rock to rock, picking our way past refrigerator-sized to volkswagon-size gneisses and schists. The peak will have to wait for another day, another hike. Instead we head down. First through another boulder field, then very steeply down through the black spruce forest. We loose almost 2000 feet of elevation in a little more than a mile. As we descend the temperature climbs, and we are again bathed in sweat when we reach Snyder brook, where we shuck our boots and wade right in. Cold! Just below the stream crossing is a lovely campsite on the creek. Ours for the night, and a second dinner of tacos and flan. This is the first campsite where we've had enough water to wash with. What a luxury! And to make it better, there's no bugs, and a long cascade for audio ambiance.

Scones for breakfast after sleeping under the stars beside the brook. Just a few miles today, and all downhill through the valley. Closer to the end is a series of waterfalls and cascades. One of them has a nice smooth mossy chute into a deep pool. Perfect! We drop our packs again, remove boots and prepare for fun. Wheee! Down the slope and into the pool. Very refreshing. The path we chose may have been difficult, but like the beginning, we've had the hike to ourselves since leaving the hut.

In another mile we reach the car. Its about 9:30 in the morning. There's a peach in the cooler – delish!

Huron River, canoeing with Meetup

Journal
Canoe trip down the Huron River: Huron Meadows to Hudson Mills to Gallup
August 1&2, 2009
Gary Hochgraf

This trip was run through the Michigan Adventure Club, part of Meetup.com.
We are fourteen. Judi, who is recovering from a shoulder injury shares my Minnesota II; Kat and Jens are paddling a Nahani that I borrowed. Paula and Petre are in their orange Coleman, while the rest have rented aluminum canoes from Gallup canoe livery. They are Silvia and Bo, Caryn and Miguel, Mike and Katharina, and Ben and Tina.
We meet at Gallup, park, and collect canoes and gear into two vans, and the Gallup staff drive us north to the put-in at Huron Meadows metropark. We carry our stuff from the parking lot to the river, and we're off! This part of the river is quite nice and scenic, but it soon slows and widens, with private homes along both shores, and motor boats. The wind has picked up and of course its a headwind. As we pass more and more houses, we are joined by more and more boats – mainly pontoon boats, but also smaller motorboats and jetskis. Lunch, courtesy of Kat, is consumed at the rail-trail bridge. The river winds its way onward toward Strawberry Lake, where we have a long open water pull across the lake, into the wind, and with some big waves from all the power boats. We stopped for a break near shore, and Bo got caught by a big wave and fell out. Our first unintentional swim. While resting some of us did an intentional swim.
From here we took a wrong turn, backtracked, and found our way back to the river. Its a nice warm summer saturday, and everybody is out on the water. Lots of party barges, speed boats and jetskis. Lots of noise, waves, and exhaust. Baseline lake is crossed, where there are also sailboats and windsurfers to add to the mix.
By and by we reach the dam at Portage Lake, backtrack to the party store, portage the dam, and we've got the river to ourselves. There's a few houses, but mostly woods, and no motorboats. Its quiet. Its peaceful. Just another hour to camp. Its been a long day of wind and traffic. Not as relaxing as a canoe trip should be.
Hudson Mills canoe camp. Tents go up, and dinner is prepared. On the previous trip we thought it'd be fun to do community cooking. But with the potential for twenty people I had to split it in two for meals. Judi and I are going middle eastern, with humus, babaganoush, pita, tabouli, and a Lebanese stew with rice. Karen and Miguel offer marinated chicken, then ice cream for dessert.
The beer and wine come out, and we sit around the campfire as the day ends.

Morning breaks, and the raccoons have been busy in the night. They've cleaned up any food that was spilled or tossed in the trash can. They also damaged a few bags, and kept a few of us awake. Breakfast is oatmeal by Paula and Petre, with coffee by Katharina.
Jens is making a german stew for lunch, so he and Kat, along with Mike and Katharina head out a bit before the rest of us. And soon we're all on the river. Our first real rapid is at Hudson Mills. A few boats get hung up on the rocks but we're all through safely. This is one of the nicest stretches of the river. Very few houses, lots of forest, clear swift water, fish, birdlife, turtles, and lots of other people out in canoes. We reach Delhi Metropark, and Jens is cooking. But it'll be a while, so its a good time for a nap, a swim, or chatting. Its a good stew, we eat, and return to the river. Delhi rapids is our next obstacle, and while we bump rocks, everyone is through safely. Another set of rapids at Tubbs road (where there is no road) then the river widens and slows as we approach Barton Dam. Everyone pitches in for the portage, and soon all the boats and gear are launched below the dam. About another hour to the dam at Argo, portage again, and the last stretch through Ann Arbor to Gallup. We've been on the water about two hours longer than expected, so we're quite tired when we finally arrive.

Trinity Alps, CA

Journal

Trinity Alps, California. Troop 7

June 19-27, 2009

Gary Hochgraf

Crew A, Adults: Bill, Myself

Scouts: Xavier – crew chief, Mathias – scout in charge, Jeff – QM, Maxime, Jacob, and George.

Crew B, Adults: Greg, SM, Andrew, Dick

Scouts: Alex, Joe, Jake.

Friday 6/19

Flew from Detroit to San Francisco. I got a window seat on the second leg, and enjoyed looking down onto the badlands of South Dakota, the dry hills of Wyoming, the basin and range of Nevada, then suddenly the snow capped mountains in California, the central valley, and the golden hills along the coast.

We got our rental cars in a very windy city – two Dodge Chargers and a mini van, and headed out, with a brief stop at a burger joint for dinner and also to pick up our stoves and empty fuel bottles which had been shipped out to a relative of Bills. A three hour drive north brought us to Calusa Sacramento River state park, where several tents were soon erected except for four of us who slept under the stars.

Saturday, 6/20

Bill and I went out and brought back two boxes of donuts which soon disappeared as the tents came down and the cars were packed. We continued north, stopping in Redding to fill those fuel bottles and last minute groceries. Then up and out of the long flat central valley into the hills to Weaverville, where we stopped for permits and info at the ranger station. The woman behind the desk was very helpful.

Here we split up, as Crew B will head for the trailhead at Stuart Fork, while we enter at Swift Creek. The road twists and turns as we climb the hills and finally reach the trailhead, and after an obligatory photo at the sign, we're off! The trail follows Swift Creek, climbing steadily and occasionally crossing minor tributaries. At about 3 miles in we find a nice campsite at the confluence of Parker Creek and Swift Creek. We've been walking up a wooded valley with cedars and red pines at the beginning, giving way to cedars, hemlock, spruce, and jeffery pines. Many of the trees are quite large.

We met a family with a pack horse, and one with a dog, but otherwise the hike is ours. We also got quite close to a mule deer, and many wildflowers are out. St John's wort in profusion along the roadside, fragrant white rhododendron beside the trail, a beautiful white orchid at the side of the little creeks, and insectivorous pitcher plants in the meadows.

Our campsite is pretty large, plenty of space for five tents, and Parker creek at our doorstep, both for water and audio ambiance. We're surrounded by big trees, but there's an opening where we can look up Bear Creek valley and see snow on a shoulder of Siligo peak. Bill cooked Mtn House Kung Pow chicken, it was ok, and also mashed potato and gravy which was pretty good.

Sunday

Chilly this morning, probably in the 40s, with a light breeze too, so I'm still wrapped in my sleeping bag as I write this and await the warming sun to crest the ridge.

Bill and I are up and get a fire going to take the chill off. I made cranberry nut bread and Bill has his coffee. We ate, cleaned up, and packed up and finally the boys are stirring, except George who was up and shared cranberry bread with us. The sun is now streaming into the campsite so I douse the fire.

Late morning. We have a problem. I had returned to camp after answering nature's call, the guys were all digging into breakfast, and Bill was all packed up and heading out onto the trail. So I grabbed my pack, stuffed in the last items, told the boys to be good, and followed suit.

Just past camp the trail crosses Parker Creek, and just past there is a large campsite with two trail crossings in it. The trail the appears to go straight is actually the left turn that goes up Bear Creek to Bear Basin. To continue on Swift Creek trail one turns right. Then within a few feet Parker creek trail splits off to the right.

Bill hikes slowly, so I figure I'll catch him shortly. In a mile I reach Parker meadow and am surprised that I haven't met him. So I watch for footprints, and none are his size. After about 2 miles I reach Foster's cabin, and he's not there. In another mile I flush a roughed grouse with two chicks. Would she be here right on the trail if someone had just passed b? But the chicks were cute and fuzzy brown balls about 3” long.

I meet another group camped by the trail. “Have you seen anybody pass by?” I ask. No, they had not. I begin to suspect that he took the wrong trail and is now headed toward Bear Basin. I turn back. At the lower end of Parker Meadow I meet the scouts. They had seen the possibility of missing the turn to Swift Creek too. So we discuss the options and plan our search. Three of them will day hike up Parker Creek trail to the next intersection and return to the old campsite. The other three will take lightened packs up Bear creek trail. And I will solo up Swift Creek just to make sure.

Noonish. I've climbed up past Mumford Meadow and still no cell phone reception, and I'm now 100% certain he's not up here. So I'm heading down.

2-ish. Back at the fateful intersection. Xavier, Jeff and Mathias are here, having already checked out Parker Creek trail. After another hour of waiting, here they come! He had indeed gone up Bear creek trail. We're all together and tired (some of us anyway) so we'll camp right here tonight, about 0.25 miles up the trail from last night. Bill and I had lentil soup, the guys have spaghetti.

Toward evening a man comes by riding a horse and leading three more and a mule, and stops to chat. He tells us of a spring nearby and the guys take off to search, thinking its a hot spring. I chatted a bit more then went to look. I found good cool drinking water. The guys found nothing except an extra hike of a mile or so.

Before dinner many of us took a dip in a large pool in Swift Creek, and got cleaned up a bit.

We've decided to modify our plan some, having lost today. Bill does not feel he can make it up to Ward Lake, so he'll stay at Mumford Meadow, and the rest of us will go on up to the ridge and try to make a loop of it.

Monday.

Another beautiful chilly morning in the Trinities. They guys are slow to get up (no surprise). Bill and I have whole wheat bread, they have rice pudding with raisins.

I head out a bit ahead of the guys, and we meet at Fosters cabin. There's two buildings here, a barn with corrugated steel roof, log frame and plank walls and no door. Its in disrepair but would still keep you and your horse dry. A short distance away is the cabin, much newer than I expected, with log walls, glass in the windows, cedar roof, and a functioning door. Perhaps its been re-built.

The five guys hike pretty close together, while I leapfrog them, rarely out of earshot. The trail continues to climb gently along the north side of Swift Creek, through open alpine meadows, past huge cedars and pines. Its warm, the sky is blue, no breeze, and no mosquitoes. Perfect!

We finally reach the head of the valley and begin the serious climb into the cirque. The trail switches back and forth, there are stairs, and grand vistas down the Swift Creek valley and up onto the nearby ridges. Up, up, up! We get to the turnoff to Horseshoe lake, drop our packs and hike the short spur. Its a beautiful lake, surrounded by white granite, and the walls of the cirque are quite close and steep. There are several lingering snow fields and we have the obligatory snowball fight. After some bouldering, photo ops, and exploring we head back to the packs. Spring is late here. There are several springtime flowers just coming out – trout lilies and pussywillows, and some ferns are still in fiddlehead stage.

The trail to Ward lake continues up, around a hill, then a short descent, across the outfall creek, and we're here! The ranger told us there are four campsites here, and one of them is occupied. I circumnavigate the lake, and we pick the one on the south shore, facing north.

The other group is the one I met yesterday when I was suspecting that we had lost Bill. We talked briefly and they were glad we had found him.

Ward lake cirque faces east, which means the sun drops over the western horizon about 5pm. That ridge is the southern spur off Black Mountain, which dominates our northwest view, about a thousand feet above us. Behind camp is a steep high ridge that separates us from Horseshoe cirque, which is soon scaled. The views are magnificent, as one would expect. We look east along the valley, and beyond that more mountains in the purple distance. On the way back down some of us slide on the snowpacks above camp. Great fun, in shorts!

Dinner is consumed as the shadow crosses camp, which gives us a long evening before its dark enough to see the star show. Our view is north and every star is out tonight.

Tuesday.

When your campsite is at the center of the universe, why bother getting up and going anywhere? The spot I've chosen is on a peninsula a few feet from the lake on either side. There's not enough room for a tent, just a sleeping bag and pad. Above me – stars. Behind me – the ridge we scaled yesterday and trees. Ahead of me to left and right – the lake. Behind and left – an inlet that burbles. Further left and ahead – the high wall of Black Mountain, defining the cirque. To the right – the lake's outfall and some lower rocks and hills and the sky. Into this setting the sun rises. First onto the face of Black Mountain. I watch the shadow descend and the light turn from orange to white. Then it appears in a low gap between two hills near the outlet. Normally I'd get up now, but why? There is frost on the ground, and as the sun beats down into this little amphitheater, the day warms. Soon its too hot for a sleeping bag. Ok, I'll get up!

They guys are all camped back in the woods, inside tents, and they sleep in. They don't see this.

Today we'll do a day hike. There's a trail up to the pass between Black Mountain and Snowslide Peak, which we quickly loose and resort to scrambling up the talus. Its probably steeper than 45 degrees. As we climb, Mt. Lassen comes into view, then Shasta just before the ridge is attained. Now we can look north along the South Fork of the Salmon River. But the more dramatic mountains are to the south., and since we're looking at their north face, there's lots of snow on them. We're high enough to look out over the south ridge of Black Mountain into the Stuart Fork valley, where the other crew is.

But this is just the ridge, not the peak. And its a very steep and exposed and rugged ridge. After a snack, we work our way toward the peak. But its really tough going, not any more dangerous than the climb to get here, but the exposure makes it feel so much worse. Progress is slow, and the way gets tougher. We turn back. When we reach the pass we re-find the trail and descend to camp.

There is a resident osprey here. He seems to hang out around here, horseshoe, and other nearby alpine lakes. They stock them with trout, so that's good for him too. We enjoy watching him soar over, perch and watch, then swoop down for a fish. He's usually operating from the other side of the lake, so the camera shows little more than a dot.

Jacob and Jeff were timing themselves on getting up to the ridge and back, so I ascended too (but not for speed.) Once there I felt drawn on up along the ridge, so I soloed to the peak. Much of it was an easy walk over broken rock and soil with a few trees and logs, but the last bit was a steep scramble over scree. But I made it, and got a 360 degree vista of the Trinity Alps and beyond. There's the South Fork of the Salmon river heading north, Swift creek to the east, deer creek which joins Stuart Fork to the south, and beyond Stuart is Canyon Creek. Somewhere along Deer or Stuart is the other crew. Also to the south is snowy Siligo peak, while west of here is the Sawtooth ridge to Thurston and Hilton peaks.

Later, back at camp I tried to get the guys interested in doing a short walk but they would have none of it. Preferring to hang out in camp, insult each other, throw snowballs, skip stones, and engage in typical teenage banter. Eventually it came time for dinner, which they fell to with competence.

Long afternoons and evenings can lead to rambunctious behavior. Up here, above timberline, the principles of Leave No Trace ethics become even more important than down in the valley or back in Michigan. This is a fragile ecosystem, with tiny plants that can be a hundred years old. The growing season is short, the soil thin, and rainfall scant. Open fires are not permitted up here, and the rangers emphasized that when we got our permits. So I've tried hard to curb the recreational use of lighters and matches, with limited success. Granted, the infractions have occurred either in the existing firepit or on snow. And we watched the other group last night enjoying an evening fire. But there is no need for playing with fire just for the fun of it. So, while I took a walkabout down the outfall a bit and around the lake, what should come wafting across the lake, but a pall of smoke. Wtf?

When I finished my circumnavigation, we had a discussion about leadership, and how these guys are not just leaders to the younger scouts, but to each other as well. And when they see behavior that shouldn't be, they have an obligation to speak up with authority and knowledge. Then I confiscated their lighters.

Wednesday

Another beautiful morning, but warmer. I'm camped in the same spot. Woke in the middle of the night and watched the stars and saw a few meteors and the Andromeda galaxy. Morning broke with magic as before, with the shadow sliding down Black Mountain, and the sun popping over the ridge.

We head down today, along Swift Creek, meet Bill and George, and camp by Parker Creek.

The hike was uneventful and quick. Bill left a note at Foster Cabin. He and George had stayed near here Tuesday night, and were heading back to Parker Creek for Wednesday, then on to the trailhead, to meet us there on Thursday.

We've settled in to our first campsite again. Time to kill becomes rambunctiousness again.

Thursday

Last day on the trail. I slept in the tent due to the black flies. I've been able to sleep under the stars at every campsite except this one. Another beautiful day with blue skies.

A few other hikers and equestrians are coming in for the weekend as we head out. Bill and George are there at the parking lot with donuts and pop. They had run out of stove fuel yesterday, so they went to town for the night.

A twisty drive to Weaverville, where Mr Copp and the other crew have already arrived. A quick lunch and we head west. Two hours of twisty mountain roads, then suddenly it levels out for the last few miles to Samoa beach. Light fog and strong wind from the north. We run, toss the frisbee, explore the flotsam, and chase the waves.

A few miles up the road we find a buffet and everybody fills up. Then south and the trees get bigger. We turn off and drive a twisty road through giant redwoods to our campsite at Humbolt Redwoods State Park. Very cool.

Friday

Long drive to San Francisco. We stop to view the Golden Gate bridge, drive up and down Lombard street, and park near Fishermans Wharf. The thought was to take a ferry to Alcatraz island (and perhaps leave a few scouts there) but they were all booked until monday. So we wandered the shops, listened to and watched street performers, and watched the California harbor seals which have decided to call part of the harbor adjacent to the wharf their home. And had dinner. Lots of people, different languages, buying and selling of trinkets. So very different from earlier in the week.

After rush hour cleared we headed out to Mt. Diablo, to find the gate locked at sunset. Luckily while waiting around contemplating alternative options, a ranger showed up, let us in, and we got to our reserved campsite. Everybody slept under the stars (cool!)

Saturday

Up and out early, drove to SF to return the cars, rode the tram to the airport, waited for our flight, and flew home.

Canoeing the upper Huron, May '09

Journal
Canoe trip with Meetup group, May 15-16-17, 2009
Upper Huron River, Michigan
Gary Hochgraf

Friday evening
We all met at Heavener’s canoe livery, where we rented one aluminum canoe and arranged for a shuttle for three private boats. Alan Heavener was very helpful and concerned with the approaching storm, but our confidence won him over and he let us go. We are seven. Myself as leader in my solo canoe, Mike and Katharina in the rental boat, Miguel and Katherine (Kat) in my Minnesota II, and Paula and her husband Peter in their Coleman 13’. Its pretty easy paddling on a gently moving river as it winds through marshes until we reach Milford. Now the river is a pond with many houses until we reach the dam, which we portage. The landing for the portage is quite small for canoes, and for unloading the gear. And the put in has a strong cross-current at the ramp.
There are a few trees to maneuver around on this next section, and its been raining lightly off and on.
We arrive at Kensington Canoe camp, and there are lots of boy scout troops here for the weekend. One of them has taken the campsite next to the river which is normally for canoeists, so we hike up the hill to a vacant site, where we rig a tarp over the picnic table, and belly up for dinner. Everybody has brought their own - burritos, spaghetti, lasagna soup (Mtn House), crackers and cheese, or hot dogs. We’re glad for the tarp as the rains continue, building to heavy with lightning and thunder at night.

Saturday
Still overcast and some light rain to start, but settling down to heavy overcast with gusty winds. Various breakfasts are eaten, we collect water, pack up and head out.
The river soon opens out into Kent Lake, and we encounter steady head-winds. Today is race day. We see herds of cyclists flying over the bridge. There is a high school rowing regatta taking the main section of the lake, and a few sailboats are rounding buoys at the far end. We hug the shore where possible to cheat the wind, and pull hard across open water, winds and waves, and rest behind islands and peninsulas. It was a long hard haul across the lake, and we really earned lunch at the portage.
Back on the river was so pleasant with the trees blocking the wind some, and the SUN has come out!
We were warned of dubious river conditions on this section and below. The bridge at Kensington Rd was a very tight fit, as the water is quite high, and a log with similar low clearance between there and the RR bridge.
We finally made it to camp. Its a nice cleared area with a lone big tree in the middle, and plenty of space for tents and canoes. We set up tents and nap in the sun, dry out the gear, and eat! And toss Frisbees around, and eat!
Later, we get a fire going, enjoy a rosy sunset, and head for bed as soon as it is dark.

Sunday
Beautiful morning, but chilly. Another fire helps warm us as breakfast is made, camp is struck, and those done packing toss the Frisbee around.
Finally on the water, a late start, and we encounter more downed trees. Some of them have us paddling through the woods to get around. But with the river up so high, its really fun to paddle between trees. More trees blocking the river just above Placeway and below US-23.
Lunch at a small landing before 23, then twisting on eventually to Huron Meadows Metropark. Miguel drives the Minn II way up onto shore, Kat steps out, the boat tips, and Miguel goes overboard. The last possible chance to dump! But it’s a nice sunny day and the trip is ended, and we all have a good laugh.
Heavener’s shuttle is an hour late-the driver got lost, so we lounge on the grass, nap, nibble, and chat. We’ve made some good bonds in just one weekend, and talk of doing the next section of river this summer.

The end.
Gary