The last thing the nice host at Murdock Campground said to
me as I was pulling away was, “Remember, this is Thursday before the long
weekend, there is no time for shopping, if you find an open campsite just take
it.”
And so I heeded his words, and my own promise to myself, and
took the first one I found available, as you already know, at Alturas
Lake. Having been here for a few days
and scoped out the other campgrounds, (around this lake and others), I can
easily say the Kitness was alive and well; this is the perfect campground (North Shore) and the perfect pitch for me. I
have never driven into a more picturesque campground; it is charming with its
Parisienne beige sand drive and open meadow flanked by tall pines with the lake
just behind. I loved it more every time I
drove in.
With a glorious five nights in one spot, The Noses and I
settled into a nice routine of a one-mile walk with River followed by a long hike
with Opus (River remaining behind in Beagle which I was sure to park so that
she had shade until noon), an afternoon of swimming, a few chores, reading, and
other quiet past-times, all with one eye on the tanks as five nights without a
dump run will be my record.
On Day Hike 1, Opus and I set off for Pettit Lake, aiming to
do a circuit trail of about five miles which encompassed three different alpine
lakes. I had poured over my hiking map
(much to my glee) and thought I knew just what I was doing. However, when the trail sign pointed up
toward “Yellow Belly Lake”, but not any of the other lakes within the circuit, I
passed by the turn. I mean, really, what
hiker wants to go up a trail that says, “Yellow Belly Lake”? Maybe if it had said, “Avid Hiker Lake” or
“Best Shape of my Life Lake” but “Yellow Belly”?
Nope. I figured there was another
access point, one that listed the other lakes.
Plus, the trail we were on was gorgeous; long, dark, Pettit
Lake on the left, peaks up ahead, the trail a slight incline—just enough to
make you feel it, and I thought, “I’ll be happy if this is all I do today, a
hike around the lake—it is perfect.”
Soon we left the lake behind, crossed two rivers (in an
attempt to help Opus, I submerged one boot—I have never hiked with a soaking
wet foot, have to say it wasn’t that bad) and began a serious ascent through a
moraine when I decided to rest and enjoy my coffee. I sat on a giant, flat boulder, marveling not
only at the beautiful meadow spread out below and the sharp peaks surrounding
it, but that I felt so good. Last fall
when I had tried to hike, it never felt ok, it never felt right. I always felt like life wanted me to stop, go
back and sit down (and now we know why.)
But that morning, everything felt
just right.
It hardly seemed like any time had passed so I was surprised
when I checked Garmin and it revealed that we had travelled 3.7 miles!
“Remember you still have to go back!”, sounded my Roomie’s
voice in my head; she who had patiently walked (if you can call it that) with
me between surgeries. Some hikers passed
me on the trail and said there was about two miles to go before Alice Lake, an
alpine lake of incredible beauty, and I so wanted to keep going. But I have promised myself not to push my
recovery so we turned back, clocking 7.4 miles on our first day.
Which probably explains why, on Day Hike 2, we only clocked
two. We had started up Cabin Creek Trail
but an uneasiness kept growing in me.
First of all, there was only one other car in the parking area. As a solo hiker, I much prefer no cars or a
lot of cars. One car just worries
me. Then Opus would not walk in front
but kept his nose close to the back of my boots, something he does just before
I smell a bear, and we were clearly in bear territory (a lovely creek, woods
with dense foliage, berries.) And, I
suppose, I was tired from the previous day.
It just didn’t feel like fun so we turned back, opting for a grocery
store run, lunch in town and a quick connection with the cellular world.
Side note: If you
come up here, come with groceries; the store has little more than frozen pizza
and hotdogs.
My hiking map had listed the Yellow Belly loop as one of the
highlights for the area, so despite its name, I headed back there on Day Hike
3.
This time I swallowed my pride and took the right when
prompted. There is an initial climb up
away from Lake Pettit which I was happy to see as “alpine lake” to me means
above the tree line. But after a mere
mile or so, it dropped steadily down the other side of the mountain and back
into forest. At this point, I was still
undecided about doing an out and back hike or making it a loop. Chatting with a mountain biker he noted that
the loop option involved a fire road exit.
He had come up that way so gave me a few trail pointers to ensure that I
make it off the lake trail and onto the fire road when the time came.
He also suggested taking an offshoot trail down to McDonald
Lake, which I am so glad I did! What a
lovely little lake. We stopped for
coffee and a Dentastix (Opus’s treat when we are hiking.)
As delightful as McDonald Lake was, Yellow Belly was a
complete disappointment: It is
surrounded by dense forest (again, not my idea of “alpine lake”—I am used to
nothing but rocks, dirt and water at alpine lakes) and, worst of all, as I
approached the head of the lake what did I see?
A parking lot.
Nothing is worse than hiking for over two hours and ending
up in a place at which cars are parked.
(Granted, I would not have driven Wurzig up those roads but still—a
parking lot?!?)
We took a short break before continuing on the trail
around the lake, along the river and then out to a road. But what the mountain biker didn’t tell me
was that, after a quarter of a mile or so, the road branched three ways. By then I had added hot and tired to my
disappointment and was in no mood to be lost.
I climbed a hill and looked across the valley and could see campers in
the distance. The far distance, but at
least they were visible. Since the
trailhead parking is on the other side of the campground, I took the road that
headed in that direction.
It was now nearing noon, we were hiking on a dusty road with
no shade, it was over 80, Opus’s looks of disdain were on a 2-minute interval.
As we approached the camping area, I could see, much to
my dismay, that it was not the campground but just one of the many disbursed camping
sites prevalent in the area.
Shit.
So I looked around again, spotted the peaks that lay
opposite the lake and took the road heading in that direction. For over a mile and a half we were completely
enveloped in clouds of dirt as the campers raced by us in their four wheelers
and trucks with boat trailers on the way to the lake. I was beyond tired, hot and disappointed at
this point. I was edging toward grumpy.
Obviously, we made it back, a mere 6.4 miles which felt more
like 20,000.
Enter Day Hike 4: I
had saved hiking in the Redfish Lake area for last as I wanted to avoid as many
of the holiday travelers as possible and so planned on hitting the trail bright
and early on the 5th.
Getting dressed, I could not find a clean pair of hiking socks. How was this possible? I usually keep close tabs on that,
hand-washing when necessary. But no,
there were none. So I donned a pair of
cotton running socks, realized they would be too thin, so put on a second pair
of cotton running socks.
Never hike in cotton running socks.
But the sock situation didn’t trouble me, I already knew it
was going to be a fantastic day: I was
driving on asphalt all the way to the trailhead! First time all week.
We were at the trailhead by 8:30 on a clear, beautiful
morning. It had rained the night before
so the air was crisp and clear and the trail-dirt slightly packed which is a
blessing out here where it can be dusty, particularly on the trails you share
with horses.
The Redfish Lake trail is gorgeous; it climbs steadily up
from the lake and then retains the views from the bluff as you make your way to
the other end. At three miles we turned
off toward Bench Lake, climbed another hillside, gaped at the beautiful little
lake, and sat to enjoy our coffee and, yes, Dentastix. We watched small trout swim by until the
mosquitos, and concern about River, turned us back toward home.
A bonus picture since you have been very generous with your reading:
After a quick run into town, we returned to Beagle, woke
River, and we all went down to the lake. I
let River off leash as she rarely leaves my side; tied Opus to a tree as he
rarely chooses me over hunting, and dashed into the water. Standing quickly to get my breath back (this
lake is COLD!) I heard splashing coming up behind me and there was River! Swimming out to “save” me as she had always
done, I just didn’t think she had it in her anymore. Clearly she came to the same conclusion as
she turned back before reaching me.
Opus had his head stuck in a tree stump, rooting out a
chipmunk.
And thus ends my final full day at Alturas Lake. I will miss this place; I will certainly
return. And I made it five nights
without servicing Beagle! Including a
shower every night (despite swimming every day, I find that I would rather
crawl into my delightful Beagle bed smelling like French soap rather than lake
trout.)
Heading back to McCall where we will enjoy spreading out in
a cabin just up from the lake for five nights.
I have a sneaking suspicion that I will not want to leave.
-K
PS: Final
announcement about the email notification; it will deactivate shortly. I will Tweet out a link after each posting
@kitrinabryant
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