Lake Siskiyou Trail

I don't know what's in the water up here, but I have been feeling very adventurous. If you have read about my earlier adventures, you know I have walked through wild cat caves, braved what could only be a bear hiding in the bushes and rustling the leaves, and made my way through hordes of insects. Well, since I hiked the Chalet Loop Trail a few weeks ago, I have not been able to stop thinking about crossing that Wagon Creek Bridge. Did I mention that I don't walk on sidewalk drainage grates in the city? Yeah, this is going to be fun.

I decided to take this hike on a weekend, so my oldest daughter tagged along. We parked in the parking lot for the Chalet Loop Trail and headed north, past the entrance. The beginning of the trail is paved and runs along the road so we heard a few cars, but we could also hear rushing water. As we walked along, the sound of the cars faded away and the river drew near. And the trees...they were gorgeous, so many different pines; from tiny new trees to massive elders, some had straight branches while others had branches curved like ribbons in the wind, some were full of tiny pine cones and others had dropped massive pine cones all over the ground below, some were dressed in needles from top to bottom and others had lower branches that were completely bare. I knew there were different types of pine trees, but I didn't know they all grew right next to each other. Diversity certainly makes the forest more interesting.

As we passed by all of the different trees, we turned a corner and came to the river. The water was coming from the other side of the road through a tunnel, and it was coming fast. We didn't really have a clear view of the water at first, but then the greenery opened up and we could see the river and rocks and the grassy green bank across the way.

At one point there was a miniature sandy beach right in front of us, with lots of paw prints heading to the water. I like to think that they were left over from some early morning hunting, but it's more likely that one of the many dogs on the trail got to splash around in the cool stream.

The water rushes down the hill for just a short distance and then it seems to come to a halt as soon as it hits the lake. The only movement we could see on the surface was from a fisherman in a kayak and the birds diving for breakfast. We were standing in front of a massive mirror, the reflection changing with every step. The view was mesmerizing.

Continuing on, we rounded a few curves in the path and came to the entrance of the bridge. The construction of bridges fascinates me, especially when they are not held up by piers, but are supported by the structure above. Also, this bridge is removed in the winter, which brings up a whole other set of questions about its structure. And also, just how do they remove a bridge? The road seems pretty far away so I'm imagining a barge with a crane, but the water seems shallow under the bridge and how would they get a big boat like that in the lake, anyway. Ugh, I hope they let us know when it's being removed so I can watch.

Despite my concern about the durability of a temporary bridge, I walked right out on it and looked over the edge. Then I bounced a little, to confirm that it would hold. Yep, super sturdy...until a man with a stroller ran by trying to keep up with a child on a bike, making the whole thing shake. I just smiled and held on for dear life until the ground settled.

While one side of the bridge offered views of the glassy water, the other gave proof of the time of year. The low water level provided lots of shore for fisherman to set up their chairs and store their gear as they cast their lines and share their stories. As I looked past the anglers, I was surprised to see another river as a source of water.

Being very brave, we stood on the bridge for a while, taking in the different views, watching the ducks and geese swim and hunt, and noticing that I'm just tall enough to comfortably see over the top of the rail. My daughter suggested I bend down and look below so I didn't have to struggle. I took that comment as a sign to move on.

Now, I have one daughter who loves to stop and look at the trees with me, and another who likes to walk. My oldest is the latter so, as I was looking to see if I could tell where the bridge disconnected from the shore, she moved on. Honestly, I came to see the bridge and would have been fine turning around at that point. But, since she wanted to explore more, I followed. And, as usual, I was not disappointed.

The trail meanders along the lakeshore and through the forest with lots of trees and birds and spectacular views of the water. Coming to a fork in the road, I took the path to the left and walked into an open space with a fenced meadow in front of me and the entry to Spini Meadows Trailhead. What a gorgeous mountain view, I'm definitely adding this one to my list of places to go after we get some snow.

As I followed the shore, I came across several places with easy access to the water. These rocky little beaches were so interesting; just a small area, big enough for a chair or two, each one with its own tree stump. My daughter found one with a boulder to sit on, another one farther down had a tree stump under the water, covered with the moss that lined the bottom of the lake. Crazy to think the trees can grow while their roots are submerged in water.

Having come to the end of the path, and not wanting to explore the meadow today, we both turned around and headed back. I was distracted by a little friend foraging for acorns, so I fell behind (again). And, of course, I took a wrong turn on the way back to the bridge. You see, there was a fork in the road, and I stayed on the side of the water. Eventually I realized the water was way too close, but I stayed the course to see if I could find another path. I didn't find a path, but I sure did find a great view! There she was, Mt. Shasta (we have named her The Queen), watching over everything.

Retracing my steps, I hiked back to the bridge where my daughter was waiting for me. She might like to walk ahead, but she takes care of her mama and wouldn't make me cross the bridge alone. I think she's a keeper.