To Downieville and Back Again

Thursday, October First, a beautiful and misty day that begged to be hiked in- it also happened to be the day I finally scheduled the removal of our long hated, second hand futon. So we got up early and went up highway forty-nine yet again, hoping to chase the weather into the mountains and be back in time for the movers to arrive. We were spoiled for views from North San Juan onward, unable to chose where the most beautiful display was. 

We had to be back home by early afternoon, and lacked the time to devote to a trail, so we stopped often on the side of the road, especially at any campsites we found that bordered the river. Everything was beautiful and saturated, the mist rising from the canyon and hills which were alive with a display of fall color, while the river banks were still green and blooming.

A multitude of bold amphibians, I believe they were Sierran or Northern Pacific Tree Frogs, sat on the banks, plopping noisily into the water as we approached to sit huddled among the moss and sand.

We made our destination Downieville, but were in no great hurry to get there, pulling over at whatever turn-off or shoulder looked inviting.

The waters of the Yuba were cold and spectacularly clear, running deep and green to disappear into the mist shrouded hills.

Blackberries this time of year are spectacular, showing off a rich display of scarlet, gold and brightest green. In the lower foothills you can still find fruit on them, though much of it dries early due to the drought, but up in the mountains the berries are picked clean by bears. Speaking of which...

We were several miles outside Downieville when The Man saw a little brown something or other to the right of the road. We are always on the lookout for animals, and were already going relatively slow, simply to take in the views. He came to an easy stop, no one on the road around us, and a juvenile brown bear (I think, young black bears can also be brown), ran out into the road before us. It took me half a second to realize what had even happened, then I excitedly started taking pictures, managing to grab a few quick shots. It came to a stop on the ridge to the left of the road so I quickly changed lenses while The Man urgently told me to role my window up, reminding me that an over protective mom would have no problem charging our car.

But no mama bear appeared, although I don't doubt it was somewhere nearby, and I used my longer range lens to try and capture the bear in the dark woods at the top of ridge. I brightened it up as best I was able, and am generally exalted that we saw a bear at all. This is the second time I've seen one, and count myself very lucky for it, and for the peacefulness of each encounter.

Jubilant, we continued onward, emergency flashers on to warn oncoming traffic of possible wildlife in the road. Downieville was busy, full of motorcyclists and delivery trucks, we stopped and used the facilities before heading down Durgan Flat Way to what I believe is the end of the North Yuba River Trail, a famous track for mountain bikers that switchbacks it's way from the river up the mountain side and into the wilderness. We've hiked up a few miles before, but did not have time for that now, instead entertaining ourselves by the river for an hour or so before returning home to say goodbye to our futon.

We've had a couple good rains already and if work would stop running me into the ground I'd have the energy to mushroom hunt. This Thursday we are headed up Forty Nine yet again, being far from seeing all it has to offer. We will be trekking the Chapman Creek Trail, and possibly going to Empire Mine soon. Hope your Autumn is treating you well, see you next time.

Old Mining Trails

We have been on a few walks these last couple of weeks, nothing too amazing to report, other then a couple praying mantis and some nice Autumn colors. The first two pictures below were taken at Empire Mine's Penn Gate Trail, while the lower was on Independence Trail off Highway Forty-Nine. 

We went to Penn Gate on the first day it rained, although it barely counted as that. I had to struggle with the low light to get a successful shot, but the silhouette one, I think, came out particularly monstrous. 

Independence is in a sad state right now, I don't believe we usually take late summer walks there, so maybe this happens regularly, but the last time we were there the waterfall was completely dry, only a few pools of stagnant water scattered down the hillside. It was depressing and disheartening, but at least I spotted a praying mantis with some of the best colors I've ever seen.

The Gold Hill Trail is on the other side of the Empire Mine property and affords some interesting views as most of the trails take you uphill through oak and pine. The path on the far left often gives us some excellent mushroom and fungus, even when it's mostly dry. This time was no exception, but the light was too low for anything to come out in focus.

We've  returned to the Penn Gate Trail a couple times since the rain, first to explore the dried creek bed and then to explore the tailings and old pond. I got the chance to see a squirrel skydive from the middle of the very tall pine, falling spread eagle through the air to land with a bounce atop the mountain misery (Chamaebatia foliolosa). We clambered around the tailings for a time and found some really interesting rocks, then wandered passed the old chimney towards the dry pond.

We found a few interesting things down the creek bed, although I'm sure we weren't the first to go exploring with treasures in mind. There was a half buried brick in the middle of the stream near some ivy and other plants that suggested the remnants of an old garden. And I have found old clusters of strange vegetation in areas not too far from where we were. I know there used to be houses for the workers in this area, hence the remnants of the old chimney earlier on the trail. There was also the usual twisted sheets of rusted metal, there from some old piece of machinery or siding. In this county you're almost guaranteed to see some form of rusted metal or piping while out on a hike, especially since most of our parks and trails are established around old mining operations.

We were able to forge down stream for about forty minutes before it began to delve through and under blackberry brambles, forcing us to stop.

While last nights walk was not spectacular by any means; we were too tired for exploration and there too late for good lighting. I did get some nice shots of the shift plants are making towards fall.

The days feel too short now, golden hour slipping passed while I'm still thinking it's midday. The air is warm, but there's a promise in the evening sky. People are saying the rains are coming, I hope they're right. We had a lightening storm here last Friday that took a long time to bring the rain, and when it did it lasted for less then an hour. October hasn't been cold or wet since I was a child, when the onset of night was met with anticipation, not dread to be that much closer to the next day. Here's to summer, and to rain and snow.

For our next post we will be going up into the mountains yet again, for a misty hike that afforded us a chance to see a very rare member of the California community.

The Aspen Meadow

Part two of our journey finds us continuing down the Gold Lake Highway and following the rough road out towards Frazier Falls. A careful fifteen to twenty minutes or so down that rocky road and through the pine you can discern the faint hint of something paler, sunnier, then the usual forests. It is one our favorite places to visit, with a sense of stillness and wonder that I've felt rarely in our sojourns.  

The Man disappeared to explore while I moved from angle to angle among the meadow, light slanting perfectly in some places, casting beautiful contrasting shadows on the tall grasses.

I've always had a love of birch and aspen, perhaps stemming from their rarity around where I grew up. I was fascinated by their white bark and bright display during Autumn, or the way sunlight shown through their leaves in Spring. The Man says something in me is inspired by them, because I've taken some of my best work while among them (there's a Lake Tahoe post I owe this blog that has some lovely images).

We were here for quiet some time, only the extreme wind and the trees. I noticed while taking pictures on the south side of the meadow that there was the occasional sound of metal, like dog tags, coming from behind me. But the sound was inconsistent and did not move nearer or farther away, so I decided to focus on my work, putting the mystery aside till it demanded more of my attention.

The Man returned and we discussed the noise, he investigated while I continued to take pictures, hands and nose beginning to resent being in the gathering shade and heightening winds. He found that trees had been marked with metal tags with numbers on them, I must assume for SCIENCE! Which is neat. 

The white you can see between the grass here was like brittle, delicate paper,, perhaps lying here undisturbed since the spring waters had dried in early summer. There are old owl boxes that don't look fit to inhabit here, but it still seems like an excellent place to owl watch nonetheless, especially considering the gopher mounds on the western end.

At this point my fingers were having a bit of trouble with the cold, but I ignored it, wanting to use the excellent lighting opportunities as a classroom of sorts, changing the settings on the camera constantly, trying to become proficient and efficient at using it quickly. And being able to assess a lighting situation and pick the optimal settings immediately. 

I love catching sunlight through trees or grass, or broken on water, and I have filters now that can diffuse light or saturate an image, which is excellent as my lenses tended to leave my pictures less then true to reality. Leaving me with a desire to edit just so the picture looked like it did when I was there.

So, no sightings of major wildlife this time around, but some beautiful shots that I am really proud of. As we descended back down into the valley, it began to rain in earnest, although the sun never stopped shining. So through sun-showers we passed alongside the Yuba River, mist rising from the road ahead of us, light dancing of the river beside and refracting through the raindrops till everything glowed. 

But alas, I was extremely carsick, and in no condition to appreciate or record it's beauty. We go back down to Bridgeport in the next post, for a short discussion on frogs and mid September swimming.

Mushroom Hunting in Nevada County- Part One: Gateway Park

A Note: This started as simply a post about Gateway Park in Penn Valley, but due to illness and a busy schedule I was very much delayed in its completion. In that time The Man and I went on several walks in search of one of our favorite photography subjects; mushrooms. As such I've accumulated many images of fungus and the places we've found them, so I've decided to make a two part post (or three) about our search for mushrooms. So here we go...


Thanksgiving Day, and the month of November really, can be absolutely chaotic and stressful, especially since I have a tendency to get colds fairly often this time of year. I am in fact, wrapping one up right now, but I was feeling healthy enough for tackling (alongside my husband) a full Thanksgiving meal, a birthday cake and two pies, and we're squeezing in a couple nature walks to help alleviate the stress.

Actual Thanksgiving day is celebrated at my Grandmothers house in Penn Valley. We had a good, wet day earlier in the week, followed by warmer weather, so we decided to walk off the meal over at Western Gateway Park, located on Penn Valley Drive.

Things were looking a little drier then we had expected when we first walked over, but, just a little way into the nature/disc gold area proved to be more fruitful then we could ever imagine.

At first there was only some dry looking shelf fungus, but a closer look at the leaf litter revealed a wealth of growth. We told my family we'd be gone for about forty-five minutes, it turned out we were gone for over two hours.

I've spent more time at gateway then I can count, and it's changed considerably over the years. But if you can get there on a quiet day in fall or winter it is worth the exploration. While wildlife has suffered due to "recreational development" The oaks are beautiful and the fungus variety is fantastic. It's also a great place for bird watching. Songbirds, woodpeckers and migratory water fowl can be seen, as well as the occasional hawk.

It's my hope that eventually Penn Valley will take responsibility for the acres they have and start tending to it and it's wildlife, instead of paving over more of it, as they already have.

But anyway, back to fungal exploration. 

The undergrowth here can get pretty tangled and while they do clear the poison oak out on occasion, you should still keep that in mind if you're allergic, and the blackberry brambles are pretty much everywhere, so if you plan on going off trail you should be wearing jeans.

We wandered farther and farther into the trees, every time we thought we had found the best examples of mushrooms we would be getting, we continued down a side path or into a field and found more.

I'm not sure if I'm just forgetting, but I feel like I never saw this variety as a child or adolescent. Chances are I was just never paying enough attention, but either way, The Man and I were astounded by the size and amount of mushrooms we came across.

There are several paths the diverge from the main one in the nature area, but most are small loops that will take you through a copse of young oak and back to the main trail. There is, however, an old loop near the back of the park that takes you around to a clearing, if you cross that clearing there is a fairly less traveled path that leads you along the outer edge of the parks property.

We were exploring some fallen tree limbs in that area when The Man saw a bird land in an oak not far from where we stood. Peering into the limbs I could just make out the form of a large bird of prey. Slowly we inched towards it, making barely a sound besides the click and quiet beep of the camera. Occasionally it would turn towards us, though it seemed more interested in a tree full of noisy birds a few yards away.

Finally, we stood almost underneath the edge of the tree it was in.

We found out later, from my mom (Hey mom!), that it was a Coopers Hawk. I've never been this close to a wild bird of prey before, we felt very lucky. It watched us for a short time as we stood at the edge of the tree before disappearing further into the wood. The light was beginning to sink below the tree line, kissing the top of Crows Nest to the west and illuminating the glass on houses in the eastern hills, so we turned our path towards Deer Creek and the baseball diamonds.

Then we came to the Dog Park that was built a few years ago. It's sort of a sad place, in my opinion. It used to be a horse arena where I first learned to ride, now it's a couple chain link paddocks with dirty gravel on the ground and no trees for shade, or any plants for that matter. Just a black awning type tent and a few plastic chairs. I hope that they plan to add a few tress in there and maybe some nice benches. I also noticed clearing to the side of it of much of the vegetation. My only hope is that they don't intend to pave over anymore of the woodlands, as they already paved a road out to the dog park. For people who don't want to walk there dogs through a few hundred yards of open oak lands to a dog park. 

Sorry, it bothers me.

But back to the mushrooms!

Near where the Mother Goose Park used to be we found this monstrosity.

It's hard to tell but this thing was easily bigger then both my hands splayed out. And brilliantly colored as well. We were very lucky to find it unharmed as well, since it was in a relatively well traveled area of the park.

Onward we journeyed to the baseball diamonds, where, on the far side they often dump piles of wood chips and other debris. There wasn't too much to be seen there, just a multitude of what I assume were tiny mycena. 

Some of these little guys were so tightly clustered together they were crushing each other as they grew. I lay pretty much flat on the ground and in many undignified ways to get some good angles of this bunch, thank goodness no one was around to see it. But by then it was pretty late, and time to get back to grandma's house. So of we went, feeling almost like we were ready for dessert.

So there's that, part one complete. Next we will be covering a different area of Empire Mine, and also St. Patrick's Cemetery in Grass Valley. There's a few storms ahead of us, but after that we're hoping to get out to lower Independence trail is search of the elusive Lions Mane. Happy Hiking everybody!