spent some time at the grass valley library poring over geologic maps and reading lindgren's tertiary gravels of the sierra nevada; apparently the cañon placer claim out near my dad's canyonland property is on a tributary of the tertiary south yuba river. whether the scattered quartz and metamorphic cobbles scattered about near cabañita are also derived from that channel, or are merely typical components of the earliest volcanic ash layers, i don't know for sure—but inclined toward the latter.
an incredibly balmy harvest moon night in october. a warm wind sings in the pines, and crickets are summer-loud ~ the temperature is near 70°. a super fine night to be sure ~ moon near conjunction with jupiter.”
[Russell Towle's journal]
“10/18/76 dawn and a bit, canyonland. a familiar pattern of sounds begins at dawn every morning. a large chorus of nuthatches begins frantically tooting their little trumpets and they try apparently to synchronize but not very successfully. almost immediately following the 1st light, a couple of yellow jackets fly into the cabin and buzz noisily about, looking for breakfast i'd imagine.
i didn't get enough of the T&G 1x10 in sacramento saturday—i'm about two boards short of having the walls covered. darn it. today i'll work on rafters and blocking, and shall have a sore left arm by nightfall if i can figure how these ‘little’ rafters will go… it seems to me that in a few more days i should be ready to start nailing on the roof. and i pray the weather shall hold as it has 'til it's on. wow. i am getting close. i can see the walls now, they stand all about me, the main rafters are in place, sturdy and strong; windows and door, no, but those can wait.”
[Russell Towle's journal]
“10/18/77 just after dawn in the canyon. tuesday. last week i was in grass valley more than here, working on an addition to my dad's house, so, little has been done on the cabin. all the outside corners are trimmed. and the snow fencing about encloses the big window of wall one now. wall two remains to be paneled. tim & saundra & craig & dottie & all the kids & my brother richard all came out on sunday and we moved some logs around up on the top with the willie, to block off the rim road. next weekend we'll probably secure the other rim road on the northwest side of the ridge. i have been having fantasies about a green valley trail land owners association that would include [everyone with land on this part of the ridge]. if there is any economic advantage to the idea it may be possible. what i envision is low density of development of this part of the ridge—since development of some kind is inevitable—find a way to manage it and preserve the ‘wild and scenic’ value of the land.
~ sunset. a day spent working around the property, clearing some brush with my new loppers—they work well—i opened up a very nice area in a grove of cedar/pine/doug fir/dogwood. it is shady and cool there during the afternoon, and that area seems to have an abundance of groundwater. thimble berries grow on the hillside above, and an elderberry tree. the cedars—one of them has a quadruple crown—are about three feet in diameter near the base and about 120 ft. high at most, more likely 100'. there are three large ones; a large ponderosa of about the same dimensions, and a young vigorous sugar pine, a couple of young doug fir ~ one i'll leave, the others go, including, alas, the sugar pine, which is the only one in the meadow, but is hopelessly placed, directly beneath the crown of a large cedar, the two trunks only a couple of feet apart. I'll look at it some more—perhaps it should be saved and allowed to contort itself, as it will be forced to, in order to gain some light.
i should plant some sierra redwood and cedar and coast redwood at the upper end of the meadow—freeway sounds penetrate on a ‘line of sight’—you can't see the actual road surface from any point this low, but no land masses stand between one stretch of the freeway—above towle towards baxter—and here. the foliage of the sierra redwood and the incense cedar, when they are allowed full height, is extremely dense and should be a good muffler, though i doubt i'll ever be able to stop the sound penetration altogether. but i love this land—it is so fine—it really is worth all my effort.”
[Russell Towle's journal]
|"Longitudinal_GV.jpg" ; creation date: October 18, 2001|
Visit to Green Valley
[North Fork Trails blogpost, October 18, 2004:
Saturday morning I set off down the Green Valley Trail near Alta. The canyon was full of smoke from the recent fires, and the sun seemed sickly and cold. Some friends, including Steve Hunter and Jerry Rein, were camping at the Old Hotel site. I imagined a leisurely cup of coffee with them, before they began their fly fishing, and I would cross the river to take a look around the Hayden Hill Mine.
Green Valley is an exceptionally wide part of the North Fork canyon, just upstream from exceptionally narrow Giant Gap. I have often written of this contrast, which reflects the weakness of the serpentine of the Melones Fault Zone (Green Valley), and the massive durability of metavolcanic rocks of the Calaveras Complex (Giant Gap). Green Valley is like a broad amphitheater, Giant Gap, a narrow gorge.
In Green Valley are many deposits of "glacial outwash," bouldery sediments from the North Fork glacier, upstream. The outwash bears gold and was mined every which way a century and more past.
Rivers and streams carry sediment. From an abstract standpoint, imagine a long wooden trough, V-shaped, sloping gently from one end to the other. Let the trough carry a fixed amount of water, from the upper end to the lower end, where it spills freely away. Now steadily pour a small amount of sand into the upper end, such that the water in the trough carries it away. Very well. Increase the amount of sand. At some point, as the amount of sand added is increased, while the amount of water and the gentle slope of the trough remain fixed, some of the sand will start to "stick" in the trough. As more and more sand is added, a kind of narrow flood-plain will form in the bottom of the trough. The sediment load has exceeded the ability of the fixed amount of water to transport it.
However, if the supply of sand is cut off, while the water continues to flow as before, it will strip away the sand flood-plain, cutting the sand back down to the bottom of the trough.
This is essentially what happened, on the grand scale, in the Sierra. The glaciers in the upper reaches of our canyons drastically increased the sediment load delivered to the rivers downstream. Narrow, canyon-trapped floodplains developed. Then the glaciers melted away, sediment load returned to "normal," and the rivers cut through these outwash deposits, back down to bedrock.
When such an outwash plain forms in a narrow gorge, often little if anything is left for us to see, after the river has cut back down to bedrock. Such is the case in Giant Gap. But when the canyon is wider, vestiges of the outwash plain survive. The 49ers called such vestiges "bars," as, for instance, Pickering Bar, Euchre Bar, Humbug Bar, Fords Bar. Often some part of the original, roughly flat top of the outwash plain survives intact. Geologists call these "outwash terraces."
Only the most extreme flood events touch these vestiges, these bars, these outwash terraces, nowadays. It is interesting that the January 1997 flood event managed to nick most all of them, leaving fresh cross-sections exposed, where the layers of boulders and fine sediments can be observed directly.
And when the canyon is exceptionally wide, many vestiges of the outwash plain will survive. Such is the case in Green Valley.
There have been multiple episodes of glaciation within the past million years or so. The most recent ended only about 12,000 years ago. The geologists call this the "Tioga" glaciation, in the Sierra. Before the Tioga there were the "Tahoe" episodes, at roughly 65,000 and 130,000 years. Quite notable, too, was the Sherwin glaciation, about 750,000 years ago. Then there was the McGee Creek, at 1.3 million years; and near Mammoth, on the Sierra crest, there is a body of glacial "till" beneath a lava flow dated to 2.9 million years.
Now, one glaciation can do a good job of erasing the signs of another, older glaciation. Hence the record is fragmentary and challenging to interpret. It so happens that the Tioga glaciation was slightly less extensive than the earlier Tahoe glaciations, hence the Tioga could not erase all Tahoe deposits. The east side of the Sierra, where a much drier climate obtains, has many well-preserved glacial moraines of both Tioga and Tahoe ages.
The west side has relatively few well-preserved moraines, and much much more vegetation covering the landscape. The steep-walled canyons are not well-suited to preserving outwash terraces. Green Valley is an exception. It seems a certainty that outwash of Tioga, Tahoe, and even Sherwin glaciations is preserved. I would like to see a major study undertaken, of these glacial deposits in Green Valley.
The highest, and presumably oldest, outwash terrace in Green Valley is at the Hayden Hill Mine, on the south side of the river. The terrace top is fully 600 feet above the North Fork. A relict channel beside the Hayden terrace has a bedrock floor about 400 feet above the North Fork. I aimed to visit the Hayden terrace on Saturday.
So I dropped down the trail, losing 2100' of elevation, took the East Trail, passed Joe Steiner's grave, and met the Hunter party at the Hotel site. They were just on the point of leaving for a visit to Giant Gap, a mile west, so there was no coffee, but we stood around and chatted for a while. Steve has been exploring our canyons since he was a boy in the early 1950s. He knows them like few if any others. I told them I aimed to find a trail coming off the Hayden terrace, which I had walked in 1978, finishing that hike at a dead run, chased by yellowjackets, and figuring myself safe at the river, had been stung violently on an extremely tender part of my anatomy. A hornet trapped inside one's shorts is not a nice thing.
So they went west and I went south, crossing the river. The dimness of the day had kept the boulders wet at the one almost easy crossing point, so I took off my shoes and waded the cold river. I was surprised by thigh-deep water; water never looks as deep as it really is.
At the base of the outwash terrace sediments is the serpentine bedrock. Mining always involved an effort, in such situations, to wash down to, and "clean," the bedrock. One would sluice off the terrace gravels, perhaps using a four-inch canvas hose and iron nozzle, and then carefully dig every last shred of loose material from the bedrock beneath, prying the rocks apart to get into crevices, where nuggets would be trapped. The coarse gold was always concentrated on the bedrock beneath the terrace sediments.
Soon I saw trash, then, an almost brand new, tan-colored five-gallon propane bottle. I have learned that such propane bottles are a fixture of Mexican marijuana growers' camps. Knowing nothing good lay ahead, I continued up into a maelstrom of garbage, plastic tortilla bags and empty cans of hot sauce, another propane bottle and a Coleman stove, and no fewer than six sleeping bags. A pair of pants was draped across a tree, with some socks. A jumble of plastic sheeting, clothes, food wrappers, etc. etc. Pine needles covered parts of the many sleeping bags, suggesting an occupation date of summer 2002 or summer 2003.
The growers had hacked little trails into the hillside, some of which seemed to coincide with old-time miners trails. Occasionally a path would break out east to the edge of a large ragged serpentine cliff rising 400 feet or so from the river. I had great views east to the East Knoll of Green Valley, where a flume line was blasted into cliffs, and to Sawtooth Ridge, etc. Around 400 feet above the river, an old miners trail led out across the steep ground above the cliffs, and I followed it, lopping. The very east edge of the north-south running serpentine belt crossing Green Valley is the main trace of the Melones Fault itself; rock to the east is at first a melange of metasediments with some limy sediments and even marble, but quickly goes to another north-south faulted contact with the (metasedimentary) Shoo Fly Complex, running many miles up the canyon to the east.
I was looking across a narrow ravine cut into the ragged cliffs to the fault zone itself, where the vegetation abruptly changes. Many plants do not tolerate serpentine soils well, notably Ponderosa Pine and Kellogg's Black Oak. A sharp boundary is presented at the fault, with a Black Oak grove above to the east, and a naked cliff of serpentine dotted with Digger Pine and Canyon Live Oak to the west.
As the trail entered the ravine, it dropped and became indistinct. A deer or two had used it recently, I merely followed them. The human trail reappeared as the ravine was finally met, just below the main drain tunnel of the Hayden Hill Mine.
The tunnel, about six feet square, was mostly blocked by a cave-in at the entrance. Some White Alders and Pacific Dogwoods and Douglas Fir grew in the vicinity of the trail crossing, suggesting nearly year-around water at the surface.
East of the ravine the trail climbed steep slopes where it often disappeared altogether. I was having my doubts that this was any kind of old human trail, when I reached a sharp crest of serpentine within feet of the fault zone. An out-an-out cliff was descended by the trail, down an easy gully, after which the trail then continued nearly level and well-defined, into the more luxuriant forest east of the fault.
This high old trail is not shown on the modern USGS 7.5 minute Dutch Flat quadrangle. Another trail, which does not exist, is shown running roughly parallel, but down at river level, not 350-400 feet above.
When my high trail started dropping, I retreated to the ravine and the drain tunnel, which I had visited a few times over the past thirty years. Above lay the hidden valley of the Hayden Hill Mine, where hydraulic mining methods were used on the deep terrace deposits within and flanking a relict channel of the North Fork. This mine was active in the 1870s at least, perhaps earlier and later. There is a persistent rumor, which I have never been able to verify, that some kind of large slide buried "twenty" Chinese miners, and their sluice box, "way back when."
I decided to climb right to the top of the knoll to the west, a nice outwash terrace with acres of Black Oak forest enjoying the non-serpentine soils on its flat top. I passed two sluice cuts, each dumping into the ravine, each heading into small mined-out basins on the edge of the oak forest. Some grand old manzanita bushes grew near these sluice cuts. A miners trail was then struck leading up to the top of the knoll, 600 feet above the river. This is marked "Snakehead Point" on the Dutch Flat quadrangle.
It may well be that these high outwash deposits are quite old, even Sherwin in age, 750,000 years.
The cellar of a long-vanished house is nestled among the oaks atop the knoll, with a fine view west into Giant Gap. There are some huge oaks atop that knoll. Hundreds of small Ponderosa Pine and Douglas Fir grow beneath the tall oaks. A cool wildfire would set things right, killing these small conifers.
Steep hydraulic banks face south and east into the hidden valley.
Could they be younger than Sherwin, so sound and unweathered?
I boulder-hopped down the steep pile quite cautiously; many boulders weighing in the hundreds of pounds rock back and forth on this dangerous mass. At the base I was not far from a stream, gurgling along, which heads up in the Black Oak forest above the fault zone to the southeast. A broad ditch left the stream to the north, and, following it, I remembered walking it in years past. It was once a well-used human trail, now heavily used by game. I lopped along, noting that I was some 200 feet above the river, in a fine grove of Ponderosa Pine growing in outwash-derived soils. Nearing the river, and the ridge-line of the marijuana growers' camp, the ditch ended, roughly directly above the deep sluice cut across from White Boulders. I followed game trails down to the lowest terrace, and then picked my way down the cliff trail to the river itself.
The smoke had slowly thinned and a brighter light and a stronger warmth suffused the canyon. The rocks at the almost easy crossing were dry, and I hopped across. No one was at the Hunter camp at the Hotel site. I rested for half an hour, and then made the slow sweaty slog up the Green Valley Trail.
It had been a fine day in the great old canyon, marred by the discovery of yet another horrible garbage site in Green Valley. It would take many backpack loads to haul this one site's garbage up and out. Maybe we should gather it all to the Hotel site, and get a TNF helicopter in there.