Journey Return

Sunday, March 23
Dolason Prairie Trail to Harry Weir Creek
Redwood National and State Parks
Unceded land of the Yurok Tribe
9.96 miles
2,225′ ascent
2,200′ descent

I start the drive in the dark and bounce up Bald Hills Road as the sun brightens the sky. The orange early-morning sun flashes through the trees to the East. I arrive at the Dolason Prairie Trailhead to find that my mocha has leaked out into the alpaca sweater I had wrapped around it. I rinse the canvas bag and dip the sweater into a giant puddle in the parking lot. I dip and squeeze, dip and squeeze until I think I have gotten most of the mocha out. The wind is really ripping across the ridge, causing my hands to turn to ice from the whole puddle washing fiasco. I hang the bag and sweater on the seats of my truck and hope they can dry during the day.

A few minutes before 8 am, I set off down the trail. My hands are still so icy that I can’t even set my trekking poles to their correct length. I skirt the edge of a prairie and immediately head into the trees. Water seeps out of the trail as I wind down to a gravel road that’s nicer than Bald Hills Road. I follow the road for a quarter mile before turning left back into the forest.

I emerge from the forest and the Dolason Barn is still in the shadow of the trees. The sign reads: “Thousands of sheep once pastured on these prairies, wintering around sheep sheds like this one, built in 1914 on the Sherman Lyons Ranch. Today’s ‘half barn’ was originally 60 feet square with side and rear sheds, where the sheep fed from hay-filled mows.
The Dolason Barn is one of nine structures remaining from over a century of Lyons family ranching in the Bald Hills. Because of their importance to local history, these properties are eligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places.”

The old hand-hewn wood is beautiful, edging together this ranching story from long ago. Think of those who swung their axe and whose mark still stands.

The ground is so saturated around the barn that the water literally bubbles up under the pressure of my weight. It’s so fascinating that I have to take a video.

Sections of fog sit down in the Redwood Creek drainage but the 1960s clearcuts are still visible. The trail heads out across the prairie away from the barn before dipping back into the fir forest again. Sooty grouse calls nearby to a distant friend. I look for the grouse who sounds so close and yet its location is not revealed.

I emerge from the forest at the top of a prairie and find myself thinking about a bear. Is it a premonition or a sixth sense? I start to scan the horizon. I focus on the shaded bottom of the prairie. I freeze. Is that the end of a dark log or a Black bear? I watch for movement. The round dark spot moves slightly. I walk silently forward along the switchback for a better view.

The wind is blowing away from us and I’m grateful to be in an elevated position. I stand and watch for minutes on end while snapping a few pictures. I’m sure the bear is not aware of my presence. (But later review of my pictures clearly show it looking at me). The trail switchbacks down closer to the bear. I can tell that I won’t be able to see the bear from that area and it concerns me.

I decide to ‘reveal’ myself and click my trekking poles together. The bear stops grazing and looks up at me. I’m hoping it will run off but it seems unconcerned and resumes its foraging. I click my sticks a few more times but my bear friend is happy to hang out. I finally get up the nerve to push forward down the trail. I walk quickly along the switchback with my eyes glued to the mound between me and the bear. I imagine that giant bear rushing over the rise to gobble me up for breakfast. I keep spinning around to see if the bear is coming after me but no. Even as the trail treads back into the forest I keep a close eye behind me.

I can see that this trail must have been virtually impassable after the 2023 storm. But a lot of work has been done and it’s pretty smooth sailing now. It seems like maybe the trail has even been rerouted slightly. There’s still a few trees to climb over and through but it’s totally doable. And plenty of small Trillium flowers to light the way.

You can see the Lord Of The Rings character right?

There’s a few trees to climb through as I near the bottom of the canyon. I still have my layers on from the morning and it is too warm for them. I thought I had been hearing the rush of Redwood Creek echoing through the canyon but it turns out to be the mighty Harry Weir Creek. I approach the bridge that once stood high across the creek and it is now very much crushed and collapsed.

I backtrack to where there’s a faint footpath headed over the edge and make my way down to the creek’s edge. The creek has exposed some lovely Redwood Creek Schist. I look down the creek and can see a giant tree spanning high above the water. It seems like there might also be a small tree to cross upstream but I don’t bother checking it out. There’s a tricky rock hop in front of me but I decide to head back and check on the giant tree.

I scramble over the old bridge’s crumbling foundation down to the giant tree. I step on it and its wood is soft under my boots. I give a little bounce to check its sturdiness. I go half way across to where a huckleberry is growing and check out the scene. There’s a steep scramble up the slope on the other side but it seems to be a totally doable crossing. Plus, I have a great view of the collapsed bridge from here! Given the unknown trail conditions down to Redwood Creek, and that it’s almost 11 am, and that I plan to hike the Lyons Ranch Loop today, I reluctantly opt to turn around.

I take a short sitting break to sip the last of my mocha and eat a peanut butter granola bar. I stuff in a rice krispies treat for a little extra power on the climb. I shed my base layer and my patagonia houdini jacket.

The switchbacks are well-graded and I can climb at a good speed. I figure I have about three miles before I’ll be back to where I saw the bear. I pass some lovely rhododendrons that will be blooming in a few months. I’m not too far from my bear prairie when I stop in my tracks. I’m surprised to see another human headed down the trail towards me. He takes out his earbuds and asks me about the bridge which I confirm is now completely collapsed. I mention the tree crossing option but admit that I didn’t cross all the way. I ask him if he saw a bear but he did not. We part ways and then he asks me if I like my backpack. A bit more talk about gear and then I’m headed back up the trail.

In the forest just before the prairie, I start calling out “hey bear, it’s me Lionheart.” I keep this going through the whole prairie but never see the bear. As I approach the next piece of forest, I can hear the Sooty grouse still thumping to its nearby neighbor. The grouse provides the avian orchestra of Pacific Wrens, Chesnut-backed Chickadees, Golden-crowned Kinglets and Brown Creepers with an unmistakable drum beat.

It’s 1pm as the Dolason Barn comes back into view. It definitely was a lot more picturesque in the early morning light. It’s another mile plus back to the parking lot. There are several cars there and some people just starting their walk. A few people have large lenses on tripods and I suspect that they are looking for condors. I chug some electrolyte water, eat a granola bar and a bunch of fresh strawberries. I get all my gear back in the car and just before 2pm I’m headed down Bald Hills Road to the Lyons Ranch Trailhead.

Lyons Ranch blog continues here.