Showing posts with label Roderick Haig-Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roderick Haig-Brown. Show all posts

Friday, April 8, 2022

RATTLESNAKE BAR & VIDEO


I have never seen a river that I could not love," wrote Canadian writer and conservationist Roderick Haig-Brown, "Moving water...has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river."
When I started kayaking, I dreamed of these river places Haig-Brown called "Water in its loveliest form." 
I always wanted to paddle that clear water passageway between massive ramparts of broken disheveled of once molten rock, now crystallized over millions of years. Where the rock is exposed, lifted, and shattered along the fault lines and large boulders have become their own islands as they raise from the depths of the river. It's rough, It's rugged. It's Rattlesnake Bar.
Rattlesnake Bar is part of the California State Parks Folsom Lake Recreation Area. Located on the north arm of the reservoir, down a long dead-end road after the fork winding past white fences and horse barns towards the entrance of the park.
The lake glistens, flashing through the oaks and willows while driving down the narrow road after entering the park. Suffering another year of drought, it sometimes looked more like Mars's dusty remnants. But it is springtime, and the lake is just over 50% of its total capacity which is just slightly below average for this time of year.

But even at half-full, the water comes nowhere near the end of the ramp. Bring a cart, or plan on a lengthy trek shouldering your kayak down the ramp or along an arduous trail down a steep bank to the lake. The guidebooks said to watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name, but it should have warned you about that thick layer of muck and slimy goo in front of the lake.
The water was a silty brown turned up by waves of speed boats. It resembles a choppy coffee and cream color even past the 5-mph buoy about a mile north of the access. Those, with a need for speed, turn around and head back to the main part of the lake. Those in search of the quiet of the lake, canyon, and river proceed on.

Past Mormon Ravine, the lake widens and turns to the northeast. On the north side, the old Pony Express Trail is now a hiking path along the lake. Further up lake narrows with rugged rocky ledges on both sides. We don't feel the tug of current tell further up the canyon. But it's common through here. The lake behaves more like a river as the water level dictates where the river ends, and the lake begins. There is a sudden change in water temperature and clarity as the cool mountain North Fork of the American River pours into the lake. It was now a refreshing cold and running transparently clear.

I have paddled upstream here before and even portaged through shallow rapids to the river's slow-moving pools.  On this trip, however, the lake covers up those rapids.  At Oregon Bar Rapids, there is no need to go any further on this trip. The rushing water turns us back downstream.
Above Pilot Creek, we found a nice flat rock and water warmed by the sun. We beached our boats and surveyed our river surroundings. Upriver, we could see the foam of whitewater. Downstream, the rugged curve of the canyon suffused the amber light of the late afternoon sun. On warmer days, I've spent a good chunk of time there becoming a kid again by diving off rocks, swimming between dives, and exploring the view of the canyon.

Light and shadows dance across the water as the sun slips behind the horizon on our paddle back to Rattlesnake Bar access. The hills and trees' obscurity are offset by the warm glow of the water. My senses were awakened by the stillness and coolness of the air as we glided silently and almost effortlessly across the placid lake of golden glass.





Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram, and now on Youtube.




Friday, January 21, 2022

SNAKE CHARMED

 

Many a time I have merely closed my eyes at the end of yet another trouble some day and soaked my bruised psyche in wild water, rivers remembered, and rivers imagined. Rivers course through my dreams, rivers cold and fast, rivers well known and rivers nameless, rivers that seem like ribbons of blue water twisting through wide valleys, narrow rivers folded in layers of darkening shadows, rivers that have eroded down deep into the mountain's belly, sculpted the land, peeled back the planet's history exposing the texture of time itself. --- Harry Middleton

Loading up at other places that people find easier to get to. I sometimes get into conversations with boaters about where they like to paddle around Sacramento.
"Have you ever been up to Rattlesnake Bar?" I'll ask them.
The answer is usually either bewilderment or not for a long time as they think of the last time they were up there.
Rattlesnake Bar is part of the California State Parks Folsom Lake Recreation Area. Located on the north arm of the lake, it's down a long dead-end road after the fork winding past white fences and horse barns towards the entrance of the park.

The lake glistens, flashing through the oaks and willows while driving down the narrow road after entering the park. During the drought years not too far back, it looked more like Mars seeing the dusty remnants of the lake. But this year the lake is brimming. The lake is 50 feet higher than last year. Going into the last week of September, many recreation lakes in California have the highest lake levels for this date in more than 10 years.

Forget weekends. Come to Rattlesnake Bar mid-week in the summer or wait till late fall or early spring to escape the speed boat and jet ski crowd. This is a playground for them all summer long when the lake is full and the gate to the ramp is open.

The water was still touching the end of the ramp on my last visit. In previous trips, I can remember some lengthy treks while shouldering my kayak down the ramp or along an arduous trail down a steep bank to the lake. The guidebooks said to watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name, but it should have warned me about that thick layer of muck and slimy goo in front of the lake.
The water was a silty brown turned up by waves of jet skis and speed boats. It resembles more a choppy over perked coffee and cream color even past the 5-mph buoy about a mile north of the access. Those with a need for speed turn around and head back to the main part of the lake while those in search of the quiet of the lake, canyon, and river, proceed on.

Past Mormon Ravine, the lake widens and turns to the northeast. On the north side, the old Pony Express Trail is now a hiking path along the lake. Further up the lake narrows with rugged rocky ledges on both sides. I don't feel the tug of current on this visit, but I have before. It's common through here, for the lake to behave more like a river as the water level dictates where the river ends, and the lake begins. There is a sudden change of water temperature and clarity as the cool mountain North Fork of the American River pours into the lake. It was now a refreshing cold and running transparently clear.

"I have never seen a river that I could not love," wrote Canadian writer and conservationist Roderick Haig-Brown, "Moving water...has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river."

When I started kayaking, I dreamed of these river places Haig-Brown called "Water in its loveliest form." A clear water passageway between massive ramparts of broken disheveled texture, as the once molten rock now crystallized over millions of years, is exposed, lifted and shattered along the fault lines while large boulders have become their own islands raising from the depths.

The stream, flecked with little white waves and quiet inviting pools, while just around the bend there is the sound of the thundering water echoing off the chasm walls and the sight of a churning cascade, what naturalist John Craighead called, "A primeval summons to primordial values."

I have paddled upstream here before, even portaged through shallow rapids to the river's slow-moving pools. On this trip, however, the lake covers those rapids and the low water landmarks I'm familiar with going to north past Pilot Creek.  At Oregon Bar Rapids, there is no need to go any further on this outing, as the rushing water turns me back downstream.
Above Pilot Creek, I found a nice flat rock and water warmed by the sun. I beached my kayak and surveyed my river surroundings. Upriver, I could see the foam of whitewater while down downstream the rugged curve of the canyon suffused amber light of the late afternoon sun. I spent a good chunk of time there becoming a kid again. Diving off rocks, swimming between dives, and exploring the view of the canyon.
 Light and shadows dance across the water as the sun slips behind the horizon on my paddle back to Rattlesnake Bar. The hills and tree's obscurity are offset by the warm glow of the water. My senses are awakened by the stillness and coolness of the air as I glided silently and almost effortlessly across the placid lake of golden glass.

"We do not want merely to see beauty, " said writer C.S. Lewis, "We want something else which can hardly be put into words to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

 And with each stroke of my paddle, I soaked in all the lake's and river's tranquil magic.


This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on September 29, 2017


Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

Friday, October 16, 2020

THE JOY OF PADDLING IN AUTUMN

"The perfect weather of Indian summer lengthened and lingered, warm sunny days were followed by brisk nights with Halloween a presentiment in the air." --- Wallace Stegner 


Autumn is a perfect time to paddle. Okay, Okay. For me, any season is the right time to get into my kayak and paddle the river or lake. However, in the fall, I do enjoy certain paddling benefits that do not accompany the other season as well.

Journeying down the Lower American River last weekend, I traveled quietly along on the downstream stretch under brilliant skies and heard the ripples and rush of the river. While summer had come and gone, the water temperature was still warm enough to wade into while getting in my kayak. It has been a warm start to our fall season so far this year in California. Wildfires and red flag warnings have been in the mix since Labor Day in this year's historic fire season.
 

The American River is running at an easy flow. Water levels are always a consideration this time of year. For area lakes and reservoirs, water levels are down, unlike during the springtime when they are brimming. For nearby Folsom Lake, even if the water level low, there is still plenty of water for paddling. The speed boats and jet skis have left for the season, leaving behind fewer waves and an uncrowded lake. Late into the fall, the lakeshore can look like the surface of Mars. While neighborhood favorite Lake Natoma water levels are always fluctuating, when it's when water is high, it offers some hideaway sloughs to explore. In the lake's backwaters, with fewer leaves to contend with, I'm able to spot the deer easily through the trees along the shore. While in the air, I was thrilled to see the lake's bald eagle couple make a soaring flyover. And towards sunset, I came across a beaver moving through the water. He slapped his tail to give me a warning that I was too close, I suppose. It went on its way of preparing for winter, while I paddled by.
 
Back on the American River, the day was already a success with seeing a bald eagle, several snow-white egrets, and a playful river otter who greeted me with few grunts as I paddled by.
It's time for the salmon run and the area fishermen were out this past weekend. While some line the shore side by side, others are hip-deep in the stream. I'm not a fisherman of any sort, but I can't help by marvel at their artistry of the flyfishermen as they cast their lines with precision and flair.
“Until a man is redeemed he will always take a fly rod too far back," wrote “A River Runs Through It” author Norman Maclean, "Just as natural man always overswings with an ax or golf club and loses all his power somewhere in the air.”
The experts have made their casting poetry in motion, even if they come home without a fish. As writer Roderick Haig-Brown said, "There will be days when the fishing is better than one's most optimistic forecast, others when it is far worse. Either is a gain over just staying home."

It's like that for me with paddling, I suppose. In the solitude and sanctuary of the water, I've never had a bad day of paddling. Going down the river, my mind reflects on my autumn paddling memories from the past.
“There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves,” wrote, Joe. L. Wheeler. Maybe so? Floating along, it's easy for me to drift off and think about those The cool and crisp mornings of my Minnesota canoe and kayak days. The bugs were long gone after the frost came and the placid lakes rendered stunning reflections of reds, yellows, and oranges across the waters at Maplewood State Park against the clear blue fall sky. But I often forget fall doesn't' last long in the northern tier. There when an unexpected cold snap and early snow would ice my paddling season.
 
The weather and colors did not have dramatic along the American River as paddle over the rushing slide of water above the Fair Oaks Bridge. Only a few pale yellow leaves on few trees scattered along the shore. The sloughs of Lake Natoma offer a bit more, along with the lakes in the Sierra and the foothills.
Canoe guru Bill Mason said, “Anyone who says they like portaging is either a liar or crazy.” I'm sure the dozen or so fisherman lining the back across from me must be thinking as I carried my kayak back over the rocks of the slid to paddle upstream back to Sailor Bar.

It was not a solitary paddling experience. I chased a few migrating salmon before they disappeared under the water. Ducks and geese, a common sight along the shoreline, pay little attention to me as I trek past them. During the summer, of course, the river is crowded with other boaters and rafters. But this time of year, the interest in floating along the river has faded for most.
Even for fishermen, time is limited. Fishing season end on this section of the river on October 31st.
Going upstream, I have two more portages to go before getting back to Sailor Bar, so I take my time to enjoy the peace and the solitude. As I dip my paddle, a rustling of fall leaves swirls through the air and landed ever so softly in the water beside me. I take another forward stroke while the leaves are being gentling are carried off by the current of the river going the other way.

 

The appearance of autumn does not call for the disappearance of kayaks or standup paddleboards. Fall and wintertime waters offer a quieter and solitary experience. Who doesn't appreciate fewer bugs, crowds, and empty parking spots at the access? Just remember simple safety factors involving hypothermia. Even water temperatures as high as 75 and 80 degrees F (24 and 27 degrees C) can be dangerous, but generally the colder the water, the faster it happens.

Another tip for your cold-weather paddling adventures: The sun is starting to set earlier and earlier, and you will have to keep this in mind while you are out on an autumn tour. When the days are short, you’ll want to utilize as much sunlight as possible. Daylight savings times ends on November 1st.

FIVE simple tips for anyone looking to extend the length of their paddling season into the winter months.

 

  1. Wear your PFD! 
  2. Layering up against the cold. 
  3. Familiarize yourself with rescue techniques 
  4. Be well fed and hydrated when paddling.
  5. Mind the light 


Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

 

Friday, September 29, 2017

SNAKE CHARMED


Many a time I have merely closed my eyes at the end of yet another trouble some day and soaked my bruised psyche in wild water, rivers remembered and rivers imagined. Rivers course through my dreams, rivers cold and fast, rivers well known and rivers nameless, rivers that seem like ribbons of blue water twisting through wide valleys, narrow rivers folded in layers of darkening shadows, rivers that have eroded down deep into the mountain's belly, sculpted the land, peeled back the planet's history exposing the texture of time itself. --- Harry Middleton

Loading up at other places that people find easier to get to. I sometimes get into conversations with boaters about where they like to paddle around  Sacramento.
"Have you ever been up to Rattlesnake Bar?" I'll ask them.
The answer is usually either bewilderment or not for a long time as they think of the last time they were up there.

Rattlesnake Bar is part of the California State Parks Folsom Lake Recreation Area. Located on the on the north arm of the lake, it's down a long dead-end road after the fork winding past white fences and horse barns towards the entrance of the park.

The lake glistens, flashing through the oaks and willows while driving down the narrow road after entering the park. During the drought years not too far back, it looked more like Mars seeing the dusty remnants of the lake. But, this year the lake is brimming. The lake is 50 feet higher than last year. Going into the last week of September, many recreation lakes in California have the highest lake levels for this date in more than 10 years.

Forget weekends. Come to Rattlesnake Bar mid-week in the summer or wait till late fall or early spring to escape the speed boat and jet ski crowd. This is a playground for them all summer long when the lake is full and gate to the ramp is open.

The water was still touching the end of the ramp on my last visit. In previous trips, I can remember some lengthy treks while shouldering my kayak down the ramp or along an arduous trail down a steep bank to the lake. The guidebooks said to watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name, but, it should've of warned me about that thick layer of muck and slimy goo in front of the lake.

The water was a silty brown turned up by waves of jet skis and speed boats. It resembles more a choppy over perked coffee and cream color even past the 5 mph buoy about a mile north of the access. Those with a need for speed turn around and head back to the main part of the lake while those in search of the quiet of the lake, canyon and river, proceed on.

Past Mormon Ravine the lake widens and turns to the northeast. On the north side, the old Pony Express Trail is now a hiking path along the lake. Further up the lake narrows with rugged rocky ledges on both sides. I don't feel the tug of current on this visit, but I have before. It's common through here, for the lake to behave more like a river as the water level dictates where the river ends and the lake begins. There is a sudden change of water temperature and clarity as the cool mountain North Fork of the American River pours into the lake. It was now a refreshing cold and running transparently clear.

"I have never seen a river that I could not love," wrote Canadian writer and conservationist Roderick Haig-Brown, "Moving water...has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river."

When I started kayaking, I dreamed of these river places Haig-Brown called "Water in its loveliest form." A clear water passageway between massive ramparts of broken disheveled texture, as the once molten rock now crystallized over millions of years, is exposed, lifted and shattered along the fault lines while large boulders have become their own islands raising from the depths.

The stream,  flecked with little white waves and quiet inviting pools, while just around the bend there is the sound of the thundering water echoing off the chasm walls and the sight of a churning cascade, what naturalist John Craighead called, "A primeval summons to primordial values."

I have paddle upstream here before, even portaged through shallow rapids to the river's slow moving pools. On this trip, however, the lake covers those rapids and the low water landmarks I'm familiar with going to north past Pilot Creek.  At Oregon Bar Rapids, there is no need to go any further on this outing,  as the rushing water turns me back downstream.

Above Pilot Creek I found a nice flat rock and water warmed by the sun. I beached my kayak and surveyed my river surroundings. Upriver, I could see the foam of whitewater while down downstream the rugged curve of the canyon suffused amber light of the late afternoon sun. I spent a good chunk of time there becoming a kid again. Diving off rocks, swimming between dives and exploring the view of the canyon.

 Light and shadows dance across the water as the sun slips behind the horizon on my paddle back to Rattlesnake Bar. The hills and trees obscurity is offset by the warm glow of the water. My senses are awakened by the stillness and coolness of the air as I glided silently and almost effortlessly across the placid lake of golden glass.

"We do not want merely to see beauty, " said writer C.S. Lewis, "We want something else which can hardly be put into words to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

 And with each stroke of my paddle, I soaked in all the lake's and river's tranquil magic.

Lake Clementine Update
To make the extension to the boat ramp at Auburn State Recreation Area’s Lower Lake Clementine the ramp is be closed to vehicles and vessel launching until the lake refills to its normal level, which is estimated to happen by late October or early November. The Auburn Journal reported the extension will add about 10 feet of length to the boat ramp and is estimated to cost about $85,000 when complete. Breaking down the closure, it was estimated to8 to 12 days to lower the lake while the actual boat ramp extension project lasted five days. Then it will be another three to four weeks before the lake has refilled and launches allowed again.
The area will remain open to bicycle and foot traffic during the project.
Upper Lake Clementine will remain open on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays through the end of the month. From Oct. 1 to 15, the upper lake will be open Saturdays and Sundays only. After Oct. 15, Upper Lake Clementine will be closed for the season.