the Dutch Flat Chapter of the
French Toast Mountaineering Club
makes an ascent on skis of... Castle Peak!*
French Toast Mountaineering Club
makes an ascent on skis of... Castle Peak!*
“2/5/83 Morning. The penniless condition persists, but I did manage to go X-C skiing yesterday. Steve Rafferty and I ascended Castle Peak and finished skiing down in the starlight. Steve fell a bunch of times trying to telemark (and succeeding occasionally) but we both had a good time. Should have left the mountain earlier. What was a kind of delicate cornflake slush on the way up through lovely, open, juniper-dotted expanses, became breakable crust in starlight. Miserable stuff to turn in. Lovely clouds wafted by in the sky, cumulus, lenticular clouds, cirrus.”
[Russell Towle's journal]
Date: Tue, 5 Feb 2002 08:42:32 -0800
To: North_Fork_Trails
From: Russell Towle
Subject: Brief Adventure
Hi all,
Yesterday the intrepid Catherine O'Riley and I made a late start on a Gold Run adventure. Our objective: the curious ridge dividing Canyon Creek from Indiana Ravine, which springs from the north wall of the North Fork canyon, plunges steeply, then levels off about 700 or 800 feet above the river, before plunging even more steeply to the cliff-bound rapids below. This ridge is quite conspicuous from other viewpoints around the canyon, as from the Canyon Creek Trail itself, or, say, from Lovers Leap. [This is the "Diving Board", as mentioned in other posts.]
We parked at the end of Garrett Road at the BLM gate and followed the old road down to the Secret World where the stone cabin stands. Scrambling up the east side of the pit we passed the reservoir with its huge dry-laid stone wall, at the terminus of the Indiana Hill Ditch, and followed the ditch's mossy berm as it wound through the live oaks and manzanita. Guessing at an appropriate point to break away southward and seek the strange ridge, we soon found the remains of an old human trail winding down the slope, steeply in places. The ridge blends into the general slopes at this upper level, but as soon as it began to have some slight topographic definition, we noticed a curious groove or trench running directly down its summit.
Having seen such grooves often enough before, I knew that a heavy object or objects had been dragged down this ridge, undoubtedly something to do with mining gold.
Patches of brush along the crest of the nascent ridge forced us downslope to the east, into the refuge of stands of Canyon Live Oak, shady enough to suppress shrubs, but each time we returned to the ridge crest, there we'd find the trench again, and some unequivocal sign of an old human trail. The ridge began to get sharper and more rocky, and suddenly, although blocked in many places by shrubs and tree branches, we found ourselves following a most amazing stretch of trail.
Here the miners, in order to facilitate the movement of the heavy objects farther south along the ridge, had been forced to build up a trail on the steep west face of the ridge, which here had sharpened to a single wedge of rock. Large dry-laid stone walls bolstered a trail often four feet wide. Occasionally we were forced off this trail by huge dead buckbrush bushes. With Catherine's little saw I cut several branches back, but a lot needs to be done to open this old trail up properly.
Click to enlarge |
Here the trail seemed to end. However, we saw faint suggestions of its continuation on the west side of the ridge, and unequivocal signs of an old trail on the east side of the ridge, which latter we followed for a ways; it appeared, from its steepish gradient and its tendency to bear westward, to be making for the river near Pickering Bar.
Click to enlarge |
Click to enlarge |
Catherine kept on trying to come up with a good name for this ridge. She doesn't like Diving Board Ridge. She suggested Ridge of the Lost Trail. The rock work along part of the trail was so impressive, I thought of the Incas. Maybe Inca Ski Jump Ridge. Doesn't that have a sufficiently noble and poetic aspect?
Click to enlarge. |
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