Headwaters Trail - McArthur-Burney Falls

I have a confession, I have been extremely lazy. After all of my travels, I just want to be at home with my (adult) kid and my dog, watching TV and reading books. I can't tell you how many times I have planned to head out on a trail, only to change my mind right beforehand. Well, today I had no choice. I have a story to write and post, after all. So, if you're new here, or if you've been here from the beginning, thank you.

Thank you for giving me no choice but to get outside, soak in some sunshine, breathe some fresh air, listen to the trees and wind and water, and let Mother Nature fill my soul.

When I have stuff going on, or when I haven't been out in nature for a while, I try to go somewhere with water. Today I headed about an hour south-east to McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park. Burney Falls is one of the places that is almost always mentioned when people talk about hiking and nature, and it has been on my list for a while. With that said, my daughter asked if we could go see the falls together, and I told her we would. So, I did not see the falls today. I saved that loop for another visit, so you will just have to wait (or cheat and do a quick Google search).

The first thing we need to talk about is the drive. It is breathtaking. The highway is a two-lane road surrounded by a vast forest of pine trees. It's something you would see in a movie (I hate to say it, but it really does give "Twilight" vibes). Today was cold and rainy and cloudy and you could see the water vapor hovering over the winding road as the breeze carried it between the trees. I even rolled my windows down a couple of times to see if the steam smelled like smoke. Nope, just science happening out in the open with me driving right through it.

The entrance to the park is very easy to spot with beautiful, large stone walls on either side. The roads are all paved and, once you pay the entry fee, you will find a visitor center, park store, restrooms, picnic tables, and campsites. Headwaters Trail is off the beaten path, so I had the parking lot and the hike all to myself. Let the conversations with nature begin!

There were three options from the parking lot, but everything was clearly marked, so I headed out feeling confident that I was on the right path and I was not going to get lost today. As soon as I stepped on the muddy trail I was mesmerized. The giant pine trees jutted up into the sky, hovering over ageing oaks covered in moss and stretching their branches to create arches from one side of the path to the other. The forest was so welcoming, as if she was inviting me inside so she could show off her unending shades of greens and browns that covered the plethora of things living under her canopy. I felt like I was surrounded by magic.

It was clear that a storm had just passed through because there were puddles on the ground and water dripping from branches above and you could smell the rain. It smells fresh and clean and new, with a hint of tilled soil and decomposing leaves. I love that smell. As I weaved around the puddles, I started to notice all of the different colors and textures on the rocks and trees around me. There was brownish-orange moss on the rocks and bright green moss on the tree trunks, and crusty white leaves that are actually lichen growing on the oak branches, and then the spooky, dark lace-lichen hanging from the tips of the branches. So many layers in this forest of symbiotic relationships; each needing the other in order to thrive.

You all must think that I take about ten steps into a forest and then I just stop and crouch down with a magnifying glass, looking at all of the tiny little things growing in the dirt. You wouldn't be wrong, but I don't have a magnifying glass, and I make sure to look above and around me as well. That's how I spotted the river, which was in eyesight almost the entire way. I could hear the water rushing over the rocks and I came to an opening in the fence that allowed me to climb down to the shore and see the bright green algae growing on boulders under the water.

About half-way to the end of the trail, there was a fork in the road. Now, if you have been here for a while, you know that I tend to choose the wrong fork and head away from the water. Not today though, I followed the path down and toward the water and was rewarded with a cute little stone building and a platform with a bench that offered a beautiful view of the calm pool of water below. I stayed here for a while, admiring the grassy plants jutting out of the river, and the giant moss-covered rocks spilling down the hill on the other bank. On my way back to the fork, I came to some steps leading to the upper trail, which made it easy for me to continue on. This part of the path was more open, allowing the sun to shine through and the raindrops to land on my head. Time to turn around.

Heading back, I stayed on the upper trail, so I had a slightly different view. With the rain, I picked up the pace, but I did stop to admire a few trees donning both moss and lichen on their branches, and one little tree that was growing right out of the middle of a rock. That type of strength is fascinating to me; the determination it takes to thrive in such a hard environment and then to break that environment open and tower above it. There is just so much humans can learn from nature, if we would just stop and look (magnifying glass optional).

As I approached my trusty Jetta, Sapphire, I noticed that there was a bridge down one of the other paths. I just couldn't pass it up. It's called Fisherman's Bridge, and it leads across the water to the other side where you can head out on the Pacific Crest Trail. Maybe one day I'll venture onto a section of the PCT, but today I chose to stop one more time and enjoy the view.