Wednesday, July 15
Start: Summit Lake
Stop: Swift Creek Trailhead
Trinity Alps Wilderness
Shasta-Trinity National Forest
Unceded land of the Wintu, Hupa, Yurok, Karuk and Chimariko peoples
15.82 miles
2,442′ ascent
5,883′ descent
As usual, my body is too amped up after a strenuous day of hiking to fall asleep. I toss and turn and turn and toss until falling asleep after midnight. Regardless, my alarm wakes me just before 5 am. I rustle to life while trying to be as quiet as possible. I start hiking about 5:45 am, just before sunrise. I climb above Summit Lake as pieces of sunlight tip the highest peaks.
I climb towards Siligo Peak, 8,169 ft. as the sun reaches for me. I look down on Deer Lake and its edge is reflecting the glowing sky. The trail towards the summit becomes a bit of a labyrinth as hikers have chosen multiple routes, probably because of snowy conditions in the Spring.
I arrive about 6:30 am and sit for a breakfast break. Mt. Shasta is visible but not super clear due to the early morning haze. As I descend, I see the shaded Diamond Lake to my right and Summit Lake straight ahead. The early morning is a fun time to make hiker shadows in the distance.
Back on the main Four Lakes Loop, a bright blue bird catches my eye. I freeze as it hops around the rocks. I’m excited that the Mountain Bluebird sits long enough for me to snap a picture. And just as quickly as it arrived, it flies off into the forest.
I start the descent to Diamond Lake at 7:20 am passing lovely outcrops of Eriogonum and Scarlet gilia.
As I get closer to Diamond Lake, I can see that there’s a bird swimming around on its surface. Then I notice what appears to be a parent with babies. I want to get closer to them but they insist on swimming away. My best guess is that it’s a Mallard mother and her babies.
Just past the Northern end of Diamond Lake it is boggy and wet. I push past the flowering corn lilies and collect some cold water.
My senses are heightened as I leave the lake. So it’s not surprising when I see large bear prints atop all other tracks on the trail. I stop and listen. I follow the tracks for a few minutes before they disappear. I bet the bear went up the hillside and must have a nice home up there. The sun is filtering through the tall grass and its beauty is hard to capture.
I’m happy to hit my head on the rare and dangling Foxtail pine cones before I make the final climb to the mini no-name pass. It’s about 8:30 am when the clouds reflecting off of Luella Lake come into view.
I pass fluffy Western anemones and a Clark’s nutcracker as the sun blasts me on the exposed descent. I look out across the valley at the trail I descended yesterday. It’s a bit heartbreaking to know that I’ve got over 1,000 ft. down only to regain it and more. But that’s the Trinities for you! I rotate my hat from side to side to block the rays cooking my face.
I’m pretty sure I hear the sandpiper again (I saw one here last year!) but my only glimpse is a bird flying away fast. Just down the trail, you have to look closely since the Granite Lake trail sign is in pieces and propped up on a rock. I start working my way up the hillside and the trail through the manzanita thicket is a lot more obvious from this direction. Just for good measure, I call out “hey bear, it’s me Lionheart” as I work my way through.
The wind picks up and some wonderful clouds pile overhead. I’m grateful for the coolness as I climb. I stop at the ice cold spring water flowing across the trail (no ravine scrambles like yesterday) and fill up my bottles before taking a short snack break. There’s lots of beautiful flowers like stonecrop, silverleaf scorpionweed, euphorbia spurge and yellow buttons painting the landscape.
At one point, the wind gusts so hard that the checkerspot butterfly circling me has to abort operations and land at my feet.
I arrive at Seven Up Pass at noon, just over two hours after leaving the Deer Creek Trail. I sit for a snack break, sucking down electrolyte water as the wind pulls past me. A few crumbs from my granola bar fall on the ground which the resident chipmunk will clean up. I rest for ten minutes before pushing on.
The Seven Up Peak Trail is easy to follow but I can tell that there are more animals than humans who use it. It’s peters out to nothing in some places where there’s just sloping hillside. In one little drainage, the trail is washed out and I nearly slip while trying to make a video. Funny, not funny. The Deer Creek drainage basin is looking mighty fine today with the cloud cover and dappled light.
I follow below the ridgeline for about 30 minutes until I reach the Bear Basin drainage. The air is clearer now than this morning and Mt. Shasta is visible again. The Seven Up Peak Trail climbs to the ridge and crosses over the top. I drop down through peridotite towards Bear Basin.
There’s an area where the Black Basin Trail and Longs Mine Spur Trail merge and I wander around a bit before I can find the Bear Basin Trail. It’s about 1:15 pm when I drop into the kneeling angelica covered trail. I push my way through the mostly obvious pathway as the trail turns left into the long canyon. A beautiful blue Gentiana smiles hello as I stay alert.
I’ve only descended into the canyon for 25 minutes when I come to a large pile of fairly fresh bear scat. I skirt the first meadow before resuming my descent.
I find a checkerspot butterfly taking a break on the trail just before I cross the shallow Bear Creek. The trail heads straight through the middle of the next meadow as Bear Creek cuts deep at its northern edge.
Above: Looking across the meadow down the canyon.
Below: Looking behind me back up Bear Basin canyon.
Red plant parts catch my eye on a manzanita shrub. I believe these are some kind of gall or fungal pathogen. I pass large elderberry bushes and towering incense cedars. Just after finishing a break, two guys hike past me up the canyon. They sure don’t look like they have enough gear to spend the night out here. By 3pm I have descended into the boggy bottoms and find some sunny patches of Darlingtonia.
In addition to the pitcher plants, there’s flowering spiny sow-thistle, sneezeweed, and corn lilies, all of which happily grow in fen habitats.
The hour is getting late as I finally arrive at the bridge over Swift Creek minutes before 4 pm. 10 minutes later I come to Parker Creek where the bridge has collapsed. At this time of year, the creek is easily crossable on rocks. The trail points itself downhill on the Eastern side of Swift Creek and I push my weary muscles. I’m definitely starting to feel all the down in my legs.
A large commotion erupts off the trail to my right and I see the dark head of a bear go running off. Nothing like a little adrenaline for the final push. There are numerous spots where water seeps across the trail. A dragonfly stops me in my tracks as I watch it repeatedly dip its abdomen in the water. I’ve never seen this before. Post-hike research has taught me that this is how dragonflies lay their eggs. Dang, hope the eggs can make it in that little bit of water.
It takes almost an hour and a half to get back to the Granite Creek Trail junction. As the Swift Creek Trailhead gets closer, I notice an enormous patch of Darlingtonia off to my left. How did I not see it yesterday morning? It’s a large and spectacular field!
I get back to the Swift Creek Trailhead about 6 pm. I had thought to get to Etna tonight but I don’t want to arrive so late since I know Dave and Vicki have had a long day. I contemplate driving to Scott Mountain and camping near the Pacific Crest Trail. That area is right on highway 3 so I decide that I will just stay here instead.
There’s a flat spot just big enough for my single person tent right below the parking area. I’d rather be farther away but this will have to do. In my explorations for a camping spot, I find that there’s a ice cold spring/creeklet below the southern edge of the parking area.
It’s been a long day with very little sleep last night. I eat dinner and leave all my food inside my bear canister at my truck. I set up my tent and I’m ready to rest. Even though it’s been a long, tiring day I’m slow to fall asleep. I’m awoken by voices about 11:30 pm as cell phone lights approach the trailhead. I lay very still and listen closely. The sobbing relief of the two guys is audible. “Can you see anything? Do you see it? Oh thank god, oh thank fucking god. We made it. We actually made. We fucking made it.” Yep, I knew those guys didn’t look like they were going to spend the night out here. And they were the ones who parked in the middle of the horse parking area even though there’s lots of signs stating not to. Geesh.