Granite Mountain (8.6 miles)

The weather was forecast to be pretty decent, so I told The Big Guy we should go for a fall color hike while the hikin' was still good. I browsed the nice selection online for the local choices and settled on Granite Mountain. It's not my usual M.O. to willingly volunteer for a hike like this one that has 3800' of elevation gain -- about 1000' feet per mile. If you're a hiker, you know that's rough stuff. If you're not a hiker, why not??? Get up! Get out there! After you see the pictures I'm about to show you, you're going to listen to me.

Not this one. This looks like almost any old trail around here. But they all have to start somewhere, and this one started here.

There was low fog today which kept the first 1.5 miles looking pretty dark and dank. Have faith all ye who hike here.

To the right. Gird your loins, the serious climb begins here.
Cresting the fog line.

Here comes that fall color.

The ever-present Forest Pig.

OK, then, things are starting to get good. It has also already been a very hard grind to this point. Layers have come off, pant legs have been unzipped. Those are some tasty huckleberries that Forest Pig is eying.

Autumn Blanket.

Climbing out of the huckleberry hillside.

The granite of Granite Mountain. See the fire lookout up there on that big pile of granite in the middle? That's the goal.

Everywhere you look is a great photo.

This was such a pretty area at the base of the last climb. Obviously, trail workers (most of them volunteers) have worked hard to make the passage nice for all of us.

At the base of the lookout 5600'. The station itself is closed for the season, but I don't think I would've been able to climb around to the stairs even if it had been open. Nothing was too scary on the way up, but this part had me crawling and hunkering. There were a good number of people on this trail today, many of whom caught up here for their (noisy) lunches. I had a hard time watching some of them scramble around on these granite slabs -- the perspective makes it looks like they're walking on air and that makes me feel woozy to see.

I found a "comfortable" hole in which to sit for my snack.

My companions visiting me in my lunch burrow.

Time to descend.

But let's look at that view one more time.

And again.

This pic I took because we are not that far from one another, but the incline makes it seem so.

Pretty little ponds all tucked in there.

Feet starting to hurt. Legs beginning to protest. And only halfway down. Still sunny, so still smiling.

And back into the foggy forest. Even though I know my feet and legs are going to be very cranky with me tomorrow, I'm glad I picked this hike. For The Big Guy to have grown up hiking these peaks but to still find them challenging and beautiful and to be able to share the adventure is priceless.

Now where is the Epsom salt?

Union Creek 6 miles

This week's hike took us back east of the mountains to Union Creek. There was no real destination such as an alpine lake or anything, but it was gray and a bit drizzly at home which is always a good reason to head east into the sunshine. Not far into the trail, we encountered this:

Not again!! While we were scouting a fording point, we lost Zuli.

The Big Guy had found this place to cross downstream from where Zuli and I were. I was taking a picture, and unbeknownst to either of us, she had followed him. Except she hadn't crossed the log. Or had she and fallen off??? I was absolutely panicked. Hysterically so. She can't swim. We couldn't see her, and she wasn't coming to our calls. The Big Guy was yelling at me to calm down, I was screaming for the dog, and then she came running back up the trail, having not fallen in the river at all and oblivious to the commotion. Stupid, stupid, stupid dog!

There was still the matter of crossing the log above the river with shaky knees, though. The Big Guy carried the pup, and I made it just fine despite the wobbles and a fear of heights.

OK, whew, this is much better. It did start to climb pretty good not long after this, though, and the huffin' and puffin' got rid of the last bits of my hysteria.

The trail afforded glimpses of the creek and at one point this pretty waterfall below us.

Then the trail dropped down to cross the creek with a pretty little bridge, much better than a scary log.

With no destination, we stopped trailside to have our lunch. Little did we know we'd passed a hidden surprise. After we'd headed back and come to the little bridge again, The Big Guy noticed a trail that branched off and followed the creek upstream. "I wonder," he mused aloud, "if there is a pond up that way?" No, not a pond.

This!

It's a good thing I married such an experienced hiker because there were no signs to indicate this was mere steps away from the main trail. It was amazing that it was right there. It was so inviting, we had to take turns having a dip in the water. The Big Guy was braver than me, and made it to the base of the falls where the force of the water surprised him with a good conk on the head. I nearly froze my feet off crossing to the warm rocks on the other side. I'd show you the pics, but you don't get into the water with all your hiking clothes on, and this isn't that kind of blog.

Zuli kept her collar on, stayed out of the water, and was rewarded with her snausages.

Mesatchee Creek (3 miles)

Three miles? We drove east 1.5 hours one way to hike only three miles?! Not intentionally, no. But sometimes nature plays tricky tricks on hikers.

It started off beautifully along the deserted, flat, sun-dappled trail. Perfect temperature, too.

The first obstacle was Morse Creek.

What does that sign behind me say? Bridge closed? Something about a broken stringer on one side and the possibility of collapse. Hmmm.

Do I look terrified? It seemed pretty stable until Zuli trotted out, then it started to bounce up and down a bit. I did not like that very much, but the warnings seemed more geared towards horseback riders rather than those of us on foot.

See? Not scary! Still, we took turns making sure not to be on the bridge together.

Seriously? Obstacle #2, the American River. Look across. See the trail over there? In the middle, the river was easily three feet deep, and there was just no way we were going to get ourselves, our backpacks, and Zuli (who can't swim) across without making the rest of the hike miserable or getting hurt. We were kicking ourselves for not bringing the new water Tevas I got us just last week because if we'd had them, we most likely would've attempted the crossing. We walked up and down the river's edge in both directions to see if there was a better fording place, but no such luck. Obstacle #2 proved to be our undoing.

All was not lost, though. It was such a pretty day, we were both in really happy moods, and turning back just wasn't upsetting at all. On the walk back, we found a bunch of wild strawberries for a tasty treat. This seemed to spark an idea in The Big Guy...

Instead of having the pb&j's in our packs, we headed a bit further east to Whistlin Jack Lodge and had some delicious burgers. We ordered the ones that came with bacon and ham but saved the ham for Zuli and took some home to Otter as his reward for guarding the house while we were gone.

I just love a day when not everything goes right but everything is still all right. Delicious burgers don't hurt, either.

We'll go back soon to this trail, and if the Morse Creek bridge hasn't collapsed by then, I'll have another tale to tell, hopefully not involving falling in the river.