LOON LAKE REFRAIN

It's been one of those summers across California we are getting more and more accustomed too. As dozens of large wildfires are burning across the state, public health officials are urging people to seal off their windows and doors, change filters in air conditioning units and in some places wear masks.
A smokey haze has obliterated the clarity of the sky and blotting out the views of the mountains as well as the city's skyline, all while turning the setting sun into what the Washington Post's, deputy weather editor Angela Fritz,  called an unsettling shade of red.

On the road just past the Stumpy Meadows Reservoir another grim reminder of past fires. It's the charred and desolate remains of the King Fire that scorched over 97,000 acres in El Dorado County, California in 2014. Driving past, the smoke tainted toothpicks of trees that flicker in the sunlight between the plots of barren and bleak tree-less hills on along the highway.

So it's a feeling of elation when I climbed the road up further. Past the burnt-out trees and away from the low hanging orange cast smog to the blue skies and crystal clear waters of Loon Lake.

"The air is singularly searching and strengthening." wrote Unitarian minister and orator Thomas Starr King after visiting the area in 1863,  "The noble pines, not obstructed by underbrush, enrich the slightest breeze with aroma and music. Grand peaks rise around, on which the eye can admire the sternness of everlasting crags and the equal permanence of delicate and feathery snow. Then there is the sense of seclusion from the haunts and cares of men, of being upheld on the immense billow of the Sierra, at an elevation near the line of perpetual snow, yet finding the air genial, and the loneliness clothed with the charm of feeling the sense of the mystery of the mountain heights."

Starr King loved being in the air of the Sierra wilderness. Best known for his role in keeping California in the Union during the Civil War. He traveled throughout the state speaking in churches, town squares and mining camps spreading the messages of his faith and preserving the Union. Spiritually moved by the splendor and beauty of Yosemite, three years even before John Muir saw it, Starr King advocated for protecting the area and encourage lawmakers and President Abraham Lincoln to pass the Yosemite Grant. Signed into law on June 30, 1864, it marked the first time the U.S. federal government specifically set aside parkland for preservation and public use setting up a precedent for the creation of Yellowstone, our first national park.

"A wearied frame and tired mind what refreshment there is in the neighborhood of this lake!" he would write of Lake Tahoe, Loon Lake's famous and much bigger neighbor to the east, where visitors have come for years to admire the cobalt blue of the lake.

At 6,378 feet, Loon Lake sits about 100-feet higher than Lake Tahoe in the northern section of the Crystal Basin Recreation Area.  A popular recreation destination, the reservoir created in the 1960s by the Sacramento Metropolitan Utility District with its three campgrounds and the boat ramp provide areas perfect for camping, hiking and kayaking.

Encompassed by the textured sun-bleached granite shore and a mixed/conifer forest of fir trees and Huckleberry Oak, the lake's pristine blue-green hued waters are a perfect venue for a classic late summer adventure.

Last week, Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips hosted its annual two-day overnight one-of-a-kind camping and kayaking experience at the lake. By day we explored the coves, bays and islands slowing meandering around glaciers exposed granite boulders dotting the lakeside eastern half including a trip inside the Buck-Loon Tunnel. While at night, we reclined along the rocky beach looking towards the heavens to view the Perseid Meteor Shower streaks across the skies. Interwoven in our awed responses of, "Oohs and ahas and There goes one!" and our laughter of "Where? Oh, I miss it again," our little group bonded by the lake under the stars.

Starr King and places like Loon Lake inspire us to see the world from a higher point and feel the everlasting presence of God.
"Believe in them, for they are the mountain-principles and alter-piles of life," he said in sermon Lessons from the Sierra Nevada, "Breathe the air that is freshened on their heights. Drink of the streams that flow fresh from the channels in their sides. And in every season of doubt, temptation, or despair, lift up thine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh thy help."

If you want to go Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips 
PHONE: 530-333-9115 or Toll-Free: 888-452-9254
FAX: 530-333-1291
USPS: Current Adventures, P.O. Box 828, Lotus, CA 95651
info@currentadventures.com
owner Dan Crandall dan@kayaking.com

A Federal Judge Reinstates the Clean Water Rule for 26 States

Last week, A federal judge issued a nationwide injunction on the Trump administration's order delaying the Clean Water Rule, making the Obama-era regulation applicable in the 26 states that have not blocked it, E&E News reported.
The United States District Court in South Carolina found that the Environmental Protection Agency had violated rule-making procedures in delaying the regulation, also known as the Waters of the U.S. rule, which protects wetlands and tributaries under the Clean Water Act. Previously, a federal judge ruled in favor of states seeking to get out of these regulations.
Environmental groups call this a huge victory in their lawsuit challenging the Trump administration’s attempt to suspend the Clean Water Rule. American Rivers President Bob Irvin wrote on their website, "This was a tremendous win for protecting rivers, wetlands and clean drinking water nationwide. The court made clear that the Trump administration cannot ignore the law, science, or the views of the American people in its rush to undermine protection of rivers and clean water."
The federal district court’s decision is not the final word. The Trump administration or industry will likely appeal the decision, other litigation is ongoing, and the administration will undoubtedly continue its efforts to repeal and replace the Clean Water Rule.

EARTH DAY 2018: CLEAN WATER AND A HEALTHY ENVIROMENT, IT BEGINS WITH YOU

Walden Pond 1908

Genesis 9:13 I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.

I've never been there, but have been there hundreds of times. Naturalist and philosopher, Henry David Thoreau's made his beloved Walden Pond, "a perennial spring in the midst of pine and oak woods," near Concord, Massachusetts, come alive to millions of who have never seen it either in his best-known work, “Walden; or, Life in the Woods.” The pond has become a symbol of to most environmentalists as living simply in the harmony of nature.

Henry David Thoreau

An early recreational hiker and canoeist Thoreau was an advocate for conserving natural resources on private land, and of preserving wilderness in public land. He would influence generations of naturalists and environmentalists such as the likes of John Burroughs and John Muir.
Recounting the two years, two months, and two days he spent at Walden Pond in 1854, Thoreau recorded a virtual Eden with phrases describing the pond's divine purity, beauty and solitude.

The scenery of Walden is on a humble scale, and, though very beautiful, does not approach to grandeur, nor can it much concern one who has not long frequented it or lived by its shore; yet this pond is so remarkable for its depth and purity as to merit a particular description.

 This water is of such crystalline purity that the body of the bather appears of an alabaster whiteness...

The water is so transparent that the bottom can easily be discerned at the depth of twenty-five to thirty feet.  Paddling over it, you may see, many feet beneath the surface, the schools of perch and shiners, perhaps only an inch long, yet the former easily distinguished by their transverse bars...

So it's surprising to hear that Walden Pond, the famed pristine jewel of that inspired Thoreau's environmentalism is being polluted.

At first glance, I wish it were some evil corporation dumping tainted sludge into the water or the weak efforts of EPA letting off the perpetrators, but it not. According to a new study, Walden Pond heavily used recreational venue has been befouled by years of swimmers, anglers, and visitors urinating in the water.

“These findings suggest that, although mitigation efforts have curtailed anthropogenic nutrient inputs to Walden Pond, the lake has not returned to the pre-impact condition described by Henry David Thoreau and may become increasingly vulnerable to further changes in water quality in a warmer and possibly wetter future,” Dr. Jay Curt Stager, a researcher at Paul Smith’s College in the Adirondacks, and his co-authors warned.

The study concluded the pond’s levels of nitrogen and phosphorus, which are found in human waste, has yielded an endless food supply for algae, creating a wrecking-ball to the ecosystem since the 1920s. The growing algae has spread out across the water blocking the rays of the sun, which of course the fish need to survive and threatening to turn one of America's most iconic lakes into a slimy, scummy mess.

"During the early 20th century, water clarity [in Walden Pond] declined significantly due to a combination of factors, including shoreline development and inputs of human wastes," the report stated, "More than half of the summer phosphorus budget of the lake may now be attributable to urine released by swimmers."

Lake Natoma

In the meantime, environmental advocates are warning the public about tests showing high levels of E. coli in the Sacramento area's Folsom Lake and Lake Natoma, two of the region’s most popular areas for swimming and boating. E. coli is an indicator of fecal contamination that can sicken people who come in contact or drink contaminated water. Officials believe it's the result of animal and human waste.

The Central Valley Regional Water Quality Control Board also reported elevated E. coli levels in the lower American River in 2015 and 2016, with the highest concentrations near downtown Sacramento.

“It should give people some discomfort about using the water – it’s not good,” said Ron Stork of Friends of the River told the Sacramento Bee.

The bottom line is, despite some of our best efforts to clean our nation's waterways,  they are nowhere near as pure as were when Thoreau dipped his toes into Walden Pond. It's easy to blame others, but it's all of us. Our country's most popular destinations that see a heavy volume of visitors, can have a devastating effect on our rivers and lakes' ecosystems. While garbage and trash are an easy to spot eyesore, the hidden pollution, AKA peeing in the pool, can over time, as we can see, be just as detrimental to the environment

American River

The Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics a national organization that provides guidance on ways to enjoy nature without leaving a human impact offers these tips as part of their seven Leave No Trace principles.

Dispose of Waste Properly

• Pack it in, pack it out. Inspect your campsite and rest areas for trash or spilled foods. Pack out all trash, leftover food and litter.
• Deposit solid human waste in catholes dug 6 to 8 inches deep, at least 200 feet from water, camp and trails. Cover and disguise the cathole when finished.
• Pack out toilet paper and hygiene products.
• To wash yourself or your dishes, carry water 200 feet away from streams or lakes and use small amounts of biodegradable soap. Scatter strained dishwater. 

So this Earth Day 2018 weekend let's take action to protect our waterways like Walden Pond. As Thoreau states in“Walden; or, Life in the Woods,” our lakes, ponds and rivers are our treasure for the future generations to enjoy

White Pond and Walden are great crystals on the surface of the earth, Lakes of Light. If they were permanently congealed, and small enough to be clutched, they would, perchance, be carried off by slaves, like precious stones, to adorn the heads of emperors, but being liquid, and ample, and secured to us and our successors forever...

LIGHT SWITCH

The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.--- John Muir 

It's fall back time. This Sunday, Nov. 5 at 2 a.m., the time flips back an hour to standard time. Great if you are an earlier riser in this light switch from evening to morning. However, losing the hour at the end of the day always surprises me. I'm not ready for the darkness, as the sun seems to slam into the horizon before my eyes. Exploding into little bits before disappearing into the night.

“There are very few things in the world I hate more than Daylight Savings Time," said author Michelle Franklin,  It is the grand lie of time, the scourge of science, the blight on biological understanding.”

She is right of course as many who don't enjoy the practice of Daylight Savings will attest. We don't lose or even gain for that matter a dose of sunlight with the time change, we lose it astronomically as the sun approaches its southernmost position, aka the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere.

Still losing that golden hour at the end of the day seems unforeseen and unexpected for me. I can remember a fall paddle on the north arm of Folsom Lake. I had gotten a late start when I slid my kayak into the water on the south side of Doton's Point. The sun was already dipping behind some clouds and hovering over the horizon. It would be a race against it to see if I could finish before it set.

Now I had won the contest against the setting sun many times before while on summer nights camping. I would paddle out across the water watching that giant orange ball dissolve into the lake while I still have enough light to paddle back to the beach and light the campfire before nightfall. Twilight lingers in the summer, but not in autumn.

This time I was humbled. I didn't beat the night. I had paddled out too far and still had to come back. I tried to hurry back as fast as I could. My fingers and feet tingled as I pressed into the foot pegs and paddle. But, no matter how fast I tried to paddle, the sun was gone and night had prevailed.

As a full moon rose over the foothills, I paddled back along the shoreline towards the lights of Folsom Dam.  The land and water amalgamated into the murkiness of the night. I can't say I was lost. I pretty much knew the lake and how to get back. But, without my headlamp, it was more like fumbling around in a dark bedroom trying to find the light switch. My truck was out there, I just had to find it.

The moonlight glistened on the water as I paddled up to Donton's Point. In the shadows, I could make out the silhouette of the truck's body parked along the beach. I was back at my starting point tired and a little relieved. I loaded up and drove away thinking, I better get an earlier start next time. It was only a little past 6 p.m.

That one-hour daylight switch from evening to morning as we fall back to standard time begins this weekend. We don't go back to daylight saving until Sunday, March 11, 2018, about a week before spring begins.


Fire Closes Boating on Oregon River

Photo courtesy of North Umpqua Outfitters

One of Oregon’s most popular rivers for rafting and kayaking will remain closed for an extended period following wildfire damage this summer. The Statesmen Journal reported that U.S. Forest Service officials said The North Umpqua River, east of Roseburg, will remain closed to boats for 23 miles until next spring or summer.

Forest Service officials said the decision was for safety after wildfires burned numerous trees along the stream sighting those trees will likely fall into the river during fall, winter and spring storms, creating dangerous hazards in what’s already a rapid-filled section. Local outfitters are frustrated by the decision and called the closure length unnecessary and arbitrary.

Photo Courtesy of Randy Lathrop

Canoe Rises from Hurricane

The New York Times reported after Hurricanes Harvey and Irma battered Florida, one Florida man came upon a what may have appeared to be a large piece of driftwood while riding his bike near the shore in Cocoa. it turned out to be an old cypress wood dug canoe. The boat could be hundreds of years old says state authorities, who are working to learn the canoe’s origins.

LOON LAKE RHAPSODY

I wish, my dear, dear friends, that you could share this divine day with me here. The soul of Indian summer is brooding this blue water, and it enters one’s being as nothing else does. ---John Muir

There was an undeniable feel of magic in my paddle and exuberance in the movement of my kayak while skimming across the cobalt-blue of the lake. In each stroke the far-off peaks loomed closer, the shimmering water appeared cleaner and the wilderness became ever so clear. A small party paddlers accompanied me on this trek to adventure and serenity. No cell phones or text messages allowed, this place is more akin to the handwritten words of Thoreau, Emerson and Muir. Yes, to truly appreciate the enchantment of this lake was to paddle it.

At 6,378 feet, Loon Lake sits in the northern section of the Crystal Basin Recreation Area in the Eldorado National Forest along the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains just to the west of its famous and much bigger neighbor Lake Tahoe and within hiking distance to the federally protected Desolation Wilderness. Four other lakes and reservoirs are the also included in this recreation area spanning over 85,000 acres of forested rugged terrain. Union Valley Reservoir is the largest with some 24-miles of shoreline. While other lakes include Ice House Reservoir, Gerle Reservoir, and Wrights Lake.

Loon Lake was created in the 1960s by the Sacramento Metropolitan Utility District as part of a network of mountain hydropower plants. The nearby is Loon Lake Chalet, is a popular winter recreation destination, but in summer people flock to the lake with its three campgrounds and the boat ramp provide areas perfect for camping, hiking and kayaking.

Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips has hosted this two-day overnight one-of-a-kind camping experience in August at the lake for the past decade. By day we explored the coves and bays while meandering around sun bleached granite boulders that look like an armada of islands dotting the lakeside. We even saw a bald eagle perched high above the lake in his tree top surveying his kingdom. While at night, we lounged along the rocky beach looking towards the heavens while viewing the Perseid Meteor Shower. The darkness was interwoven awed responses of,  "Oohs and ahas and There goes one!" when a meteor streaked by, stretching out its long tail across the sky till finally burning out in a glorious display of fire raining from the sky.

All the meals, camping equipment and kayaks were provided for paddlers and first-time campers to enjoy a cozy "roughing it" in-style camp-out, freeing them to only de-stress and unwind in the realm of nature along this alpine reservoir.

In a letter to friends, while visiting Lake Tahoe, naturalist John Muir wrote of the lake's hypnotizing charm as he said,  "As I sauntered through the piney woods, pausing countless times to absorb the blue glimpses of the lake, all so heavenly clean, so terrestrial yet so openly spiritual.”

And for anyone who has spent time at Loon Lake they can relate. Its sapphire blue of the water gleaming against the shadows of mountains is a magic waterway to tranquility and bliss.

If you want to go Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips 
PHONE: 530-333-9115 or Toll-Free: 888-452-9254
FAX: 530-333-1291
USPS: Current Adventures, P.O. Box 828, Lotus, CA 95651
info@currentadventures.com
owner Dan Crandall dan@kayaking.com

EAGLE OF THE LAKE

A bald eagle soaks its talons in Lake Natoma near the Folsom Avenue Bridge and the Rainbow Bridge.

I had heard about eagle sightings on my neighborhood lake since last spring. According to news reports and the local talk along Lake Natoma, two bald eagles had been wowing bird watchers and nature-loving photographers since last May. I had often combed the skies, searching for these white-headed raptors while out kayaking without much luck. I was more likely to see geese and turkey vulture on my outings on the water than anything else.

Eagles have been making comeback for past several decades across the country, since the banning of the agricultural spray DDT. The pesticide, linked to damaging environmental impacts and harmful health effects caused eggshell thinning and population declines in multiple North American bird of prey species. Today, nineteen nests have been tallied in eight San Francisco Bay Area counties, including at Stanford University, a mall and a water park, The Mercury News in San Jose reported this week, while experts say bald eagles have been spotted around Folsom Lake at least back to the mid-1990s.

“Lake Natoma could be a relatively new thing,” Capt. Mark Jeter, a warden with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, told the Sacramento Bee in May 2016  interview,  “The species is doing very well throughout the continent. They are expanding into areas where they have not been in a long time.”

I was paddling back to the boat ramp through the slough across from Negro Bar when I saw the bird perched on a rock in shallow water. Up until then, the highlights of the trip had been paddling through a little stretch of whitewater under the Rainbow Bridge and seeing four river otters pop up their heads up out of the water. Seeing the eagle was an uncommon and amazing sight. With my back to the sun, I inched my kayak closer and closer to the bathing eagle.

An eagle conveys a message across all cultures. The Native Americans saw the eagle as a symbol of great strength, leadership and vision, while early Christians saw it as a symbol of hope and salvation. The eagle has been used as a 'banner' throughout history by the great empires of Egypt, Rome and even the United States. It is said, the eagle is man's connection to the divine because it flies higher than any other bird.

“An eagle soaring above a sheer cliff, where I suppose its nest is," said naturalist John Muir, "Makes another striking show of life, and helps to bring to mind the other people of the so-called solitude."

It was enjoying the life as a waterfowl I supposed as it balanced there on the lake rock with its feathers dripping from its bath. I have often mused how I would rather be a loon than an eagle. Yes, eagles soar, but aquatic birds fly and swim, it's the best of both worlds.

The raptor's white head and eyes glistened in the late afternoon sunshine as I anchored my kayak in the shallow rocking bottom of the lake. I held my breath almost every time I raised my waterproof pocket camera to take a photo of the bird. We sat there frozen for several minutes. Seemingly at one with the water and nature around us. Then in a moment, it stretched in giant wings skyward, lifting its talons out of the water, hovering over it by inches till gliding upward towards the safety of the trees.

FOUNTAINS OF FLOW

          
                 “Water is the driving force of all nature.” Leonardo da Vinci

A wave of storms has battered the Pacific coast this winter, hitting California particularly hard with heavy rains, mountains of snow and destructive flooding. It has all come after severe a drought that parched much of the state for the past six years. So while my area paddling chums are happy with the moisture recharging our area reservoirs and river. All this water, is too much of a good thing, keeping many paddlers away from usual peaceful waters that are now closed off to boating.

So between rains last week, with my familiar neighborhood location's water levels either too high, to treacherous or prohibited to paddling, I found myself at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area's Rattlesnake Bar on the north arm end of the lake. While taking in the flow from the North Fork of the American River, the lake in this past couple of weeks has been either up or down while accommodating California's rainy winter so far this season.

Now there has always been a long portage well past the gate at the boat ramp, as long as I've paddled there. It's been either lengthy trek down the ramp or an arduous trail along a steep bank to the water. The guidebooks say watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name. However, it should've of warned me about the thick layer of muck and slimy goo left behind after periods of high water blocking my path to the lake.

The easiest path, past the long boat ramp, looked like the La Brea Tar Pits. An oozing 100-yard field of muck, quicksand and flooded weeds before yielding to the lake. Going through there with my kayak in tow, I imagine myself quickly being sucked under like a scene out of Tarzan movie and entombed as a fossil of the lake.

The other path, much longer, of course, is a steep mountain goat like trail until you hit a slippery slope of sediment and rock about 20-yards or so down to the water.  Choosing this track with my kayak on my shoulder, I slid through the gunk down to the water edge like I was on ice skates.

Even away from the muddy shoreline, I was not far from its dinge. The fluctuating lake levels of this winter season had left the water a silty and turbid brown. It will, of course, clear up by summer, but now, it appeared as the color of coffee and cream. It was similar to my days on the Red River between North Dakota and Minnesota. There, I watch the blade of my paddle disappear with every stroke into the murky water, only to reappear after leaving it.

I have paddle upstream here before, even portaged through shallow rapids just past where the North Fork of the American River flows into the lake. However, on this trip, the current was confused agitated, pushing my sea kayak in all different directions. Gone were the idle pools of summer, replaced by boils, hard eddy lines and perturbed water that had other ideas.  After the first mile of going upstream, my kayak and I bent back, yielding to its flow and followed the lake's rocky shoreline.

Like the veins of blood returning to the heart, the water gushes back into the lake. Tiny capillaries of ravines, fissures, and crevices inundated with water, stream back to the vital artery of the river. It's plumber's nightmare. That constant resonance of running water from either that slow meticulous drip, drip, drip to the sound of that rushing cascade.

"Water does not resist," wrote Canadian poet, and environmental activist Margaret Atwood, "Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing, in the end, can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does."

Drifting alone, along the shore I find stream after stream flowing back to the lake. In one spot, a surge of water was passing through a green meadow, in another the water was rushing through a rocky gap, looking a mountain stream of crystal clear effervescence. The unexpected waterfall comes after twisting through the meandering channel just across from where I put in. A sweeping stream had cut away the side of the bank producing a mini version of the horseshoe-shaped Niagara Falls spilling over an embankment. It was the payoff for my afternoon paddle.

As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can. -- John Muir

SNOW DAY

We are snowbound. The latest leaves are shaken from the oaks and alders; the snow-laden pines, with drooping boughs, look like barbed arrows aimed at the sky, and the fern-tangles and meadows are spread with a smooth cloth of snow. --John Muir

The plan was simple. Drive to a regional park and snowshoe around the lake to view the waterfall above the lake. We had done the same hike many times before, but this time the snow levels in the foothills had dropped as low as Camino, California along Highway 50, making Sly Park and Lake Jenkinson a winter wonderland.

Scottish poet, William Sharp wrote, 'There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature...every intricacy of twig is clad with radiance." Those words described our trip down the highway through the snow-covered forest. Each turn of the road our eyes were greeted with dazzling displays of nature reserved only for snow globes and holiday movies.

"A what a difference it makes by covering it with a layer of white." my wife Debbie said as we approached the gates to the park.

But sometimes even the best of plans are melted away. At the park's gate, we were met with a reception of park closed and no parking signs. The narrowly plowed road around the edge of the lake didn't even leave an inch of parking space to pull in our pickup. I likened it to finding a river access for my kayak. Great view of the water, but no place to stop to put in. Our trip around the lake would have to wait for springtime and our snowshoe adventure would take place higher up.
    
But Nature is not in a hurry. With God 'a thousand years is as a day.' Suppose you could have been a spirit in one of the past periods of the creation of the world, and that the Archangel Gabriel had taken you to a place' where you could see the earth as it was then covered miles deep with snow and ice, the air still full of swirling snowflakes that seemed to be burying the world forever. --John Muir

Further up Highway 50, we turned left off the highway and over the South Fork of the American River and up Ice House Road, leading to the Crystal Basin Recreation Area. It's the home to many of mountain reservoirs in the western Sierra including one of my favorite's Loon Lake. But, we wouldn't get that far. Our afternoon was getting away from us and we stopped at the first place we could find. It was a cleared away spot to an un-plowed work trail leading to the river. It offered a spectacular view of the snow cover glistening mountains and the canyon below.

“When you go to the mountains, you see them and you admire them," said mountain climber Edmund Hillary. "In a sense, they give you a challenge, and you try to express that challenge by climbing them.”

It was a quick lesson on how to walk again, once we strapped on our snowshoes. Step a little wider and pick up those knees. No dragging my feet, Debbie reminds me,  like I customarily do while out for a stroll.

"Snowshoeing you kind of have to be more centered," said British journalist Laura Clark,  You have to be able to rock from side to side more. Instead of just going forward, it's a little bit of a sideways step to it. You've got these big things on your feet."


Along the ridge, there is the soft silence of nature without the clamor of our urban world filling the winter air. The wind dances across the canopy of trees as we catch sight of a bounding deer leaping through the snow. Looking almost effortless, it flies across the snow kicking up a frosty froth. The only sounds we hear come from the squeaky crunch of our snowshoes and the warm heave of our breaths as we trudge through the deep snow.

"That's the trouble of snowshoeing. You have to keep looking down at snowshoes or you'll fall over." Debbie said to me as we stop and looked over the canyon. All around us the mountains and the pines were textured in white. They never looked so magnificent. Looking out she paused like the view had taken her breath away and then said, "And then you miss all the beauty around you."

The glorious crystal sediment was everywhere. From wall to wall of our beautiful temple, from meadow to sky was one finished unit of beauty, one star of equal ray, one glowing sun, weighed in the celestial balances and found perfect.--John Muir

BLUE LOON

 "God never made an ugly landscape. All that the sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild." John Muir

It is not easy to get to Loon Lake.  Two highways of mountain turn and switchbacks meandering up into the Sierra leading to a Y in the road with one pointing the way to the lake. On my first trip, I wondered where are we going?  On my last,  when I knew the roads, I counted down the miles with anticipation.

In the late afternoon, the lake glistens in the background the of silhouetted pines. There is a lot more water in it than the year before. California's ongoing drought that has been plaguing the state for the last five years has eased up a bit in its northern region this past winter, that it now seems like a distant memory. Some patches of snow can even be seen on the horizon of mountains, while the cobalt waters of the lake are brimming up against its rugged boulder-lined shore.

"This is true freedom, a good practical sort of immortality."








"Another glorious Sierra day," naturalist, John Muir wrote,  "In which one seems to be dissolved and absorbed and sent pulsing onward we know not where. Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. This is true freedom, a good practical sort of immortality."

At 6,378 feet, Muir's spirit haunts this alpine lake cradled by rocky spires. The lake pools across some 76,000 acres in the northern section of the Crystal Basin Recreation Area in the Eldorado National Forest along the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Nestled up close to the federally protected Desolation Wilderness, the recreation area is capped by the majestic granite peaks and traversed by lakes, reservoirs and streams spanning over 85,000 acres of forested rugged terrain along the Crystal Range. The lake was created in the 1960s by the Sacramento Metropolitan Utility District as part of a network of mountain hydropower plants. The nearby is Loon Lake Chalet, a popular winter recreation destination. While in the summer, three campgrounds and the boat ramp provide areas perfect for camping, hiking and kayaking.

Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips has been hosting kayaking campers for the for the annual Perseid Meteor Shower during its peak in August for nearly a dozen of years. All the meals, camping equipment and kayaks provided, paddlers and first-time campers enjoy a cozy "roughing it" in-style camp-out. Here are some photo highlights of our past trip they're with Current Adventures as we explore the lake's many sapphire colored coves and bays and textured granite islands.

 “Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home;" wrote Muir  "That wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers but as fountains of life.”

It's so true of Loon Lake because, after each visit, I leave with tired muscles but recharged soul and spirit.

 If you want to go

Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips 
PHONE: 530-333-9115 or Toll-Free: 888-452-9254
FAX: 530-333-1291
USPS: Current Adventures, P.O. Box 828, Lotus, CA 95651
info@currentadventures.com
owner Dan Crandall dan@kayaking.com

SNOWSHOE SERENADE

 Alas! Alas! Life is full of disappointments; as one reaches one ridge there is always another and a higher one beyond which blocks the view.--- Fridtjof Nansen

There is a quiet hush in the trees. A reverberation coming through the pines of snow being crunched and breaths of cold mountain air being drawn. The slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains glisten a splendid wintry white luster. My wife, Debbie and I had hoped to get all the way up to Loon Lake. It's one of my favorite spots west of Lake Tahoe but found the roads clogged with snow and impassable even with a four-wheeled-drive. We had to settle for parking along the Wentworth Springs Road miles past Stumpy Meadows Reservoir in the Eldorado National Forest.

My senses awaken after the sleepy truck trip into the mountains. The fresh cool air touches my face and pours into my lungs, giving me, that great feeling of just being alive. Winter is the Sierra seems to do that. Naturalist John Muir must of had that same exhilaration when he wrote,  "It is on the mountain tops, when they are laden with loose, dry snow and swept by a gale from the north, that the most magnificent storm scenery is displayed. The peaks along the axis of the Range are then decorated with resplendent banners, some of them more than a mile long, shining, streaming, waving with solemn exuberant enthusiasm as if celebrating some surpassingly glorious event."

At the road, we strap our modern-day snowshoes to our boots. Gone are the days of old wooden tennis racket looking contraptions trekking through the snow. Today's snowshoes are lighter and tougher,  built with strong aluminum frames, durable material for flotation, and bindings that support all types of boots. Sleek in design most snowshoes are between 25-36 inches long with your weight determining the length your need. And it's as simple as walking. Most can go from beginner to practically an expert in a few steps.

We move quickly down the snowed-in forest road in out of the shadows of the mountain pines. Our shoes maybe be modern, but our method of travel is ancient. Experts say that snowshoeing is thought to have originated about 6,000 years ago, making it one of the oldest known inventions by humans. In his book, Snowshoeing, Gene Prater, wrote, "Without the snowshoe/ski, aboriginal people would not have been able to expand over, and occupy, the northern hemisphere." He stated that trappers, hunters and later pioneers found that their snowshoes were indispensable in settling the continent. "During the great westward expansion period," he wrote, "Snowshoes were equally as important as the ax and flintlock rifle in the zones where snow lay deep throughout the winter season."

In his story Burning Daylight, Jack London recants a tale of what it was like snowshoeing in the Yukon Territory during the Alaskan Gold Rush in 1893.  While our hike through the forest is an enjoyable wintry excursion, London takes its allure away with his stark description of the plodding through the drifts.

They plodded days upon days and without end over the soft, unpacked snow. It was hard, monotonous work, with none of the joy and blood-stir that went with flying over hard surface. Now one man to the fore in the snowshoes, and now the other, it was a case of stubborn, unmitigated plod. A yard of powdery snow had to be pressed down, and the wide-webbed shoe, under a man's weight, sank a full dozen inches into the soft surface. Snowshoe work, under such conditions, called for the use of muscles other than those used in ordinary walking. From step to step the rising foot could not come up and forward on a slant. It had to be raised perpendicularly. When the snowshoe was pressed into the snow, its nose was confronted by a vertical wall of snow twelve inches high. If the foot, in rising, slanted forward the slightest bit, the nose of the shoe penetrated the obstructing wall and tipped downward till the heel of the shoe struck the man's leg behind. Thus up, straight up, twelve inches, each foot must be raised every time and all the time, ere the forward swing from the knee could begin.

We find serenity in the trees. In the shadows, there is a chill in the air while in the sunlight sustaining warmth. It's an even trail leading down into a valley. Across the basin, we can see the remains of what a forest fire left behind, while in another spot we cross a treeless boneyard of its aftermath. The white of the snow concealing its disfigurement. As the sun begins to set through the blackened sticks of the forest are ablaze again in a smoldering winter haze.

It is easy to find our trail back to the truck. Instead of breadcrumbs, we had left giant footprints in the snow. We sense an urgency on the way back not wanting to get stuck on the roads choked- with snow in the dark. In the fading light winding through the trees and rock in the crunching snow, I can relate to the feeling Muir had when he wrote, “Long, blue, spiky-edged shadows crept out across the snow-fields, while a rosy glow, at first scarce discernible, gradually deepened and suffused every mountain-top, flushing the glaciers and the harsh crags above them. This was the alpenglow, to me the most impressive of all the terrestrial manifestations of God. At the touch of this divine light, the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood hushed like devout worshippers waiting to be blessed.”

It's a nice bit of tranquility, till a London like harshness interrupts when Debbie reminds me, "People die out here all the time,  we better get moving."

ROUGH ROAD TO SERENITY

 

                              Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations

Up until then, we had been OK. Then the road suddenly stopped! Being a road, that is. Huge ruts and massive rocks block our way. We sat at the point of turning around, going back and finding another way. Meadow Lake Road on the east end of Bowman Lake looked more like a mountain goat trail than a lane travel.

In all my trips to the water, it has always been fairly simple. For trips to Lake Natoma or the Lower American River, stops signs, traffic and parking spots are my biggest concerns. With a little luck,  I'll squeeze into a spot at the boat ramp instead of having to park further away after dropping the kayak off at the water edge. For bigger trips,  I leave the driveway, wade through traffic to the interstate, speed along to the exit, before getting stuck a slow-moving tractor or truck on the blacktop. At the crossing, I turn off the blacktop and on to the gravel road down to the boat ramp.

"It’s the portage that makes traveling by canoe unique." said famed paddling guru Bill Mason. He, of course, was referring to hauling canoes through the northern woods from lake to lake. That's how it's done in places like the BWCA. Canoes are inserted into lakes and streams and then carried by hand to other lakes and streams in between, while whitewater extremists have no trouble transporting kayaks up mountain canyons on their backs to attempt the first descent of the waterfall. The paddling is the easy part, getting to the water is always the ordeal.

Our friend Curt Hough said it was a place we had to paddle. High in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Lake Foucherie is an outdoor paradise. Clear water, mountain views and towering pines encompass the lake. A hidden and remote treasure that offers more that than just tranquil splendor, but serenity as well. It's so beautiful that photographer Ansel Adams might have switched to color film to photograph its grandeur. We gathered in my pickup with tandem kayak on top and looked forward to what naturalist John Muir described as an inexpressible delight of wading out into the grassy sun-lake when he wrote, "Feeling yourself contained on one of Nature's most sacred chambers, withdrawn from the sterner influences of the mountains, secure from all intrusion, secure from yourself, free in the universal beauty."

The Bowman Lake Road off Highway 20 on the northern end of California's Nevada County is bumpy but well-traveled by four-wheel drive pickup and Jeeps. It weaves and winds mostly on gravel in a northerly fashion past Fuller Lake, up to the dam site. The Meadow Lake Road begins just below Bowman Reservoir's Dam, turning off and winding up the mountain. The road is rocky and a bit unnerving with a steep drop off at ones the side. It would be a wonderful breath-taking view of the mountains and valley if I wasn't holding my breath at the sight of the depth chasm. About half way up we came to our roadblock. There was just no way my truck could clear those ruts and rocks. We regroup, turned around and went back down finding a different road up the mountain via GPS.

The first road must have been the express lane for four-wheel drivers and mountain goats, while the other road switchbacks up the hill and meets for the same view Bowman Lake. At an elevation of 5,585 feet, the lake gleams through our windshield. Its granite rock formations lining the lake buffer between the water and sky. The north side road runs parallel along the steeped lakeshore. It is slow going, however, our destination seems to be in grasp.

All the way to the end of the lake and Jackson Creek the road went from good to bad, to worse. My wife Debbie had taken the wheel now and compared the road to dried up river bed. It might as well had been an old creek bed. Washboard grooves and stones tested the truck's tires and shock absorbers while driving up what looked like an evaporated stream. I walked ahead in spots and clearing rocks and looking for even ground. At the Jackson Creek Campground, the road splits and leads to Sawmill Lake and Lake Foucherie. It wasn't any better. It was a rugged adventurous drive over a parched creek bed and a pine-lined path. When we limped into the Sawmill Lake Campground and saw the sight of Sawmill Lake, we agreed that we have to save Lake Foucherie for another day and unloaded our kayaks.

After the rigorous day of travel, the payoff came softly. Sawmill Lake cooled us in an instant. The water gave us relief, the pines refreshed us and the majestic mountain views mesmerized us with their beauty. It wasn't our original destination, however, its wilderness seems to sing to me. You made it!  It's the journey that matters, and the adventure lays in just getting here.  Now enjoy my serenity.

Naturalist Sigurd Olson thought of it that way when he said, "And that, I believe, is one of the reasons why coming home from any sort of a primitive expedition is a real adventure. Security and routine are always welcome after knowing the excitement and the unusual. We need contrast to make us know we are really alive."