The 09ers

About a month ago I took a hike to Euchre Bar from the north side of the North Fork near the town of Alta. My prior attempt from the south end, which I have yet to write about, was a complete failure. But with failure comes  good things, especially since it was that trip which I ran into the claim that I have today. This last weekend though, I was determined to find the south access route to the river which drops from the 5,000ft near Forresthill Divide down to Humbug Canyon and which then travels some 5miles parallel with the American North Fork to the Euchre Bar footbridge.

Here is an overview of getting to the Euchre Bar from both directions.

The trail head from the north has plenty of information about it's location and its mileage, but the south end has extremely vague descriptions about its locations, usually only giving GPS coordinates on its location. Coming from the south also had this peculiar notice about its trailhead.

This is indeed true, the south access point is at 4,000ft and its seasons change rapidly. But even more frustrating is that these trails are near impossible to locate and are often begin at locked gates making it extremely confusing if you are unfamiliar with the area.

My friend Blake and I left around 4am Monday morning to head up to Gold country. I've been making this drive so frequently now I can't even remember it to be honest. (this is a good thing) There is always the routine breakfast and "premium" coffee stop at McDonalds, and then in the blink of the eye my little Honda is burning rich on the winding trails to Forresthill.

The supposed trailhead was actually a few hundred yards from where I descend to my claim. It turns out that my first attempt wasn't too far off. Surprisingly there actually was a trail marker that read "Euchre Bar Trail" but it wasn't very much help. Behind the sign was what looked to be a normal hiking trail, and next to that a road with a locked fence and signs reading "private property" and "no vehicles allowed."  Just a flat sign, no arrows, no trail markers left by other hikers, a fenced road and a small trail. You would think the trail head would be the trail, right? Yeah,  not the case. We started walking on the trail which seemed to head into the correct direction, almost immediately the trail was lost and it eventually merged us back into the road. What the hell!? We walked back down the road to our car and I looked up our path via GPS, and sure enough it wasn't the path we needed to take. The only possible option was the locked fenced.

The most frustrating aspect of this trail is that its description starts at the END of the road we were looking down, and since there is obviously no vehicle access allowed, that means we had to walk the entire thing. From descriptions I found on the Internet, the trail factors in millage and elevation profiles from the end of this road, not the top. Below is the trail down Pioneer Mine Road which is by foot only. The yellow marker is where the trailhead officially starts.

The walk down took 1hour and 45 minutes to complete at a 22-year old pace. This is before the 5mile hike through the canyon to actually get to the footbridge. Let me remind you that this starts at the highest point of the mountain down to the river. Yikes! It makes me wonder how many people a year -actually- make this hike. My new guess is fewer then five. There is no way that people would make this hike as a day trip, it's just too painful. An overnight trip, no problem, just can't imagine people putting themselves through the climb back out of the canyon. Don't get me wrong, I'd do it again in a second, the day was amazing.

On the way down we were able to find a whole slew of oddities. The first thing we ran into was a horrifying cave-something. Either an old mine, mining ditch, natural cave, I don't know. The theme was down the lines of "There is no way in hell I'm walking a foot inside that thing."  A few switchbacks later we found a van off to the side laying in brush with a sign that read "free." Again, both of us really wanted to go near it, but it's one of those times you remember Curious George and for once, your remember the parable of the story and make decisions accordingly. The sign itself had the makings of a sick joke. No, it was a sick joke, how could it be anything but.

Then things just got plain weird. We started seeing PVC piping laying all around the edges of the road and laying up the mountain walls. A few hundred feet later we heard what was obviously running water, and sure enough there was some bizarre water tank system that was collecting the water that was being transported through the pvc piping. I really had no idea what the hell it was.

I always thought from looking at satalite imagery that these scars were just old abandoned mines.   I have done extensive research about the history and the mines further south near my claim, but I have no idea about the history of Humbug Canyon, and pioneer mine specifically. It turns out that pioneer mine isn't abandoned at all, and there are actually land owners living on the entire scarred area at the bottom of the road. The tanks and piping were supplying water for the entire compound. Although I did see claim boundary markers alongside the road, I have no idea if the area is being actively mined, and if this land owner is mining himself. I'm not even entirely sure how this land could have been acquired since its surrounded by public land in the Tahoe National Forrest. Perhaps the mine had a patented claim (rights to land + minerals vs unpatented give rights to extraction of minerals only) One thing is for sure; I was insanely jealous of this paradise.  Only in my dreams could I have imagined this compound now sitting at on an old mine.

I wanted to take so many pictures, but we both had feeling that we were not wanted there. All of the doors and windows were open, and it felt like we were being scoped in as we walked through his land to get the trail. To be honest, I really wanted to just walk up to the door and sit down and have some coffee with whoever lived there. Seriously though, I'd say there would be a pretty good chance that we would have a LOT to talk about. If only I had a white flag, something to signal that we were not San Francisconites who accidentally took the wrong turn from Starbucks and now fumbly bumbling all over his heaven. Well, OK, I do live in San Francisco, and we were stomping all over, but my point is understood. A crazy person can never have enough fellow crazy friends these days. That's my motto. The next time I am down there, I am going to try to make contact, either with a note, or try to catch them outside. Not that a note is going to befriend them, but I can at least vent my jealousy.

Lets just say not many people can call this their backyard.

We were finally at the "described" trailhead for the Euchre Trail, now just another 5 miles along the river to go. Just some few hundred yards from the house was the American River. Absolute paradise I tell you. The owner had set up a hammock along side the river and conveniently had a rope for easy access in and out of the river for swimming.

Even though we were at the river, it was still a little difficult to find the correct trail that runs parallel with the river. There were a lot of false trails which simply dissapeared causing us to backtrack and start over in search of the real trail. It's really easy to start hiking along a mining ditch and other trail-like looking clearings. And of course there are no "signs" or even trail markers from previous hikers to help the situation. I find its always best to stop immediatley when you have doubts about the trail you're on, especially if you do not have any GPS capabilites. It's really easy to get disoriented, and the second it happens, a day of fun immmedialty turns into a day of hell. We found the obviousl trail a couple hundred feet higher then where we were looking. Minus the bugs, it was a pretty straightfoward hike, with very little elvevation changes, which was a welcoming break on the knees. With the little information I know about the area, the one thing I do know was that Humbug Canyon was mining town during the gold rush, and this was clearly evident with all of the strange massive equipment we saw laying everywhere. How in the hell did they get stuff like this down there???

That is insane! We also saw some other extremely eerie things walking along the river. It really reminded me of many of  the "stations" from LOST. In a way it's pretty similar. At one time this was a bustling area that has long since disappeared. Walking around places like this you can feel and hear the past, even when you know nothing about it, you can -feel- the people who lived and worked here. I don't mean this in a supernatural way, well, I don't think I do.

It's hard to really see the scale of this creepy-do-hinger because of the perspective, but this thing is GIANT. This picture was taken from the other side of the river. At the very top of the cliff, that motor is taller then the average human. This ginormous tube drops all the way into the river and under the rock bed. It obviously is something for moving lots of water long ago, but where, when, how, who??  I know one thing for sure, I don't want to go swimming anywhere near it. I just don't get it! I think about the location of these things and can't even begin to think how these people transported/built this stuff! We called this location along the trail "McCain Point." We thought it was a fitting name, and rolled off the tongue with ease.

And then there was the way back, which I really don't want to be reminded of. This trail is great, but for god sakes, if you're going to do it, spend a night! Or at least take a few hours to rest, cool off, eat, or nap before you try to climb back out. If you don't hike at a fast and continuous pace, don't be surprised if takes you three hours to get back up with a lot of cursing along the way. Next time I want to try using my ipod with maybe a book on tape. Music would be OK, but the point is to distract your mind. I think taking your mind off the walk would be incredibly beneficial. If not, you start torturing yourself trying to remember "Is this the last switchback???? Oh I think I remember this one!" It never is the last switchback, even when you KNOW it's the last switchback.