Beacroft Trail

Wednesday's hike was a cautionary tale:  exploring can put you on a short hike that seems like an eternity.  Six of us in two cars started well past Foresthill with the intention of going down to the American River Canyon, along the river, and then up to where we parked the first car in a gorgeous campground.  All went well as we started along a well marked old miners trail in the Tahoe National Forest.  This section had burned severely in a 2008 fire so we hiked among starkly ghostlike trees with a moderate post-fire undergrowth. 

Coral Bells garden

 

lunch time

 The undergrowth grew rapidly denser as we descended the hill.  Pretty soon we were unable to see our feet so we had to shuffle slowly as fallen timbers and holes were well hidden.  The way was so steep (often more than a 20% grade!) that we had to let ourselves down by clinging to the plants.  We were thankful that the undergrowth was mostly California lilacs, most of which were well over my head.  The view of the canyon had disappeared as supple limbs clung to our legs and arms and slapped our faces in our descent.  Our hands were sooty from grabbing trees as well and soot was all over our clothing among lilac petals and pollen.  An added insult was that the trail had largely disappeared.  We had been following orange plastic tape tied occasionally to something at "eye level" but that required a periscope to peer out of the brush.  Anyway, the tape pieces were getting cooked in the sun and were falling apart or gone.  From others I could hear calls: "ribbon" or  "poison oak on left" or "lost trail"...these calls became more frequent as we got lower and the poison oak was becoming more prevalent along with the blackberry and thistles tearing at our legs.  Unfortunately I had to add "camera gone" to the calls.  Frank and John emerged from the brush to help me find it back along the "trail".  Even staring down, we couldn't see it until John stepped on it.   Finally we decided to come together for a meeting.  This took some doing but we had had it...we called "uncle" and turned around.  It was 2 PM and we still had not found a decent place for lunch.  At last we found a log we could sit along.



best view of canyon


The return trek was arduous as we once again tried to regain our trail pushing through the steep brushy hill with it's fallen logs.  We pulled ourselves up with those lilacs.  Sweet smell but the immersion was a bit too much. 

 

Next week 3 of our six can't make it so we might be hiking with the 9 o'clock group.