Klamath Mountains Bicycle Tour

Way off near the northernmost edge of
California, a world away from the state’s large
and famous cities, is an obscure region of
fantastic mountainous country filled with some
of the best stuff in the west: dramatic
mountains with glaciers and year-round snowpack;
dazzling, jagged granite peaks with rugged
unexplored ridges; steep canyons bearing
wild-and-scenic rivers; and classic, western
frontier towns. These are the Klamath Mountains.

While the famous Sierra Nevada range draws
droves of weekend visitors, the Klamath
Mountains are unknown to most Californians and
are way off-the-beaten-path.

The land is populated with tiny, hardscrabble
communities and by solitary gold miners living
on small claims along the creeks. The modern
urban lifestyle with its trendy notions and
attitudes is beamed in on the television
airwaves but has not gained much traction here.

In fact, since the mid-1800s, residents of the
region have repeatedly pushed legislative
attempts to become a separate state. Although
none have succeeded officially, the unofficial
result is The State of Jefferson -- a state of
mind, really -- a secessionist attitude that
refuses to die.

Whatever state this is, it’s a fine venue for a
bike trip.

I spent seven days pedaling through this area
during September of 2000. The days featured
tiny, quiet roads and long climbs through the
mountains. The evenings featured campsites
alongside clear, rushing rivers. This report
describes each day’s ride and, hopefully,
provides useful information for anyone planning
a trip through the area. I’ll precede those
details, though, with a quick overview of the
interesting geology and the bizarre legends that
form the backdrop.

The Mountains, the Rivers, the Ecosystem, and
the Legends

1. The Klamath Mountains are actually a
collection of mountain ranges, jumbled together
in close proximity but formed by separate,
completely different processes in completely
different eras. They extend from the Oregon
Siskiyous through the Salmon Mountains, Marble
Mountains, Trinity Alps, and Yolla Bollys of
California. The Trinity Alps feature spectacular
jagged granite peaks reaching to 8000~9000 feet
and bearing glaciers on their northern slopes.

2. These ranges are separated by wild and scenic
rivers. Spectacular canyons are carved through
the mountains by the Klamath, Trinity, Upper
Sacramento, Scott, Salmon, Shasta, Mad, McCloud,
and Eel Rivers, and by Hayfork Creek. The
Klamath is the largest of these: its annual
discharge to the Pacific Ocean is exceeded only
by those of the Columbia and Sacramento Rivers
(the Colorado River drains to the Gulf of
Mexico). Within this territory lies the greatest
concentration of Wilderness Areas and Wild and
Scenic Rivers in America.

3. Some species have avoided extinction by
hunkering down here. The western edge of the
region is socked in by the gray, damp chill of
the northern Pacific coast. The eastern edge
endures the arid, inland furnace and the
wintertime blizzards of the northern California
volcanic sage plains. Superimposed onto this
extreme west-to-east climate gradient, even more
climatic chaos is brought about by the vertical
extremes. Between sea level and the comfortless
7000~9000 foot ridgetops are pockets of nearly
every imaginable habitat. Over the eons, these
pockets have been sanctuaries where the final
few survivors of various plant and animal
species have found refuge and avoided extinction
during eras when heavy handed glacial or
volcanic action, or larger-scale climate shifts,
have wiped out the rest of their populations
from less favorable habitats. Thus, some of
these pockets are populated with species that
exist nowhere else. The region is famous among
botanists for its richness of plant and animal
species.

4. Bigfoot. Could this land of harsh ridges and
inaccessible watersheds hide a population of
immense, hairy, bipeds? Sightings are reported
periodically, and not everyone dismisses them.
Some folks believe that many hundreds of these
“bigfoot” creatures live here, staying well away
from humans and dying in inaccessible nooks and
crannies where their bones are never found. The
legend was given a big charge of fuel in 1967
when a local hunter presented a short film clip
showing a bigfoot creature clambering into the
woods from a clearing along a creek. To date,
this is the only bigfoot photography that has
not been proven to be fake. See sidebar 3 for
more information.

5. At the eastern edge, everything changes.
This jumble of mountains ends abruptly at the
Trinity Divide, the easternmost range, where the
landscape transitions to the harsh scrublands of
the volcanic country to the east. Sagebrush,
manzanita, and avalanche debris populate this
rocky, barren landscape. Towering above these
plains is Mt. Shasta … the 14,162  ft. giant
Cascade volcano.

The Trip

Now on to the report of the bike trip. This was
a self-supported trip on my Cannondale touring
bike, loaded to the hilt with several tons of
food and camping gear, and shod with 35mm road
tires. Most of the miles were on paved roads.
The trip took seven days, began and ended in
Hayfork, and covered approximately 400 miles.
Most days involved one or more very long climbs
of 1000~3000 vertical feet, and the cumulative
total for the trip was just over 30,000 vertical
feet. Most of the land in this area is National
Forest, and generally it was easy to find a nice
riverside campsite each afternoon, either at a
designated campground or by improvising. The
trip took place in early September (7th through
14th) of 2000.

---------------
Day Zero:
Hayfork to the Ninemile Bridge camp
Nine miles; negative 200 feet climbing
September 7, 2000.

Drove from the San Francisco bay area to
Hayfork. Population ~1800, elevation 2327 ft.
Arrived 4:30pm.
Met a ranger named Ron Armstrong in the Forest
Service office and spent quite a bit of time
talking with him about the area. He was super
helpful and got me well oriented. Normally, he
said, he wouldn’t be here in town in the
summertime. He spends most summers on
firefighting teams, wherever the western forests
are on fire. This year, though, he was crushed
by a falling tree during a prescribed burn in
the spring.  Broke several ribs and smashed some
vertebrae. So he’s on the “disabled list”,
flying a desk this summer while he recovers.

It was early evening by the time I started
riding. Rode ~nine miles toward Hyampom (on
Hyampom Rd.) and set up camp at an unoccupied
fishing camp along the Hayfork Creek. This creek
is now a catch-and-release area; the Forest
Service is trying to revive its steelhead runs.

More tomorrow ...

Day One:
Ninemile Bridge camp, Peanut, Wildwood, Douglas
City
68 miles; 4200 feet climbing.

42 degrees F at 7:10 AM. Oh shoot, the top of my
down bag is soaked from condensation. I’m in a
narrow canyon that has accumulated a lot of the
cold, night air draining down from the higher
canyons. But the sun finally comes over the
ridgetop at 8:30, warms up the camp and quickly
dries the bag while I pack.

Backtracked last evening’s route, reached
Hayfork, then turned south onto Route 3. It
gradually climbs to ~3600 ft, then ends at a “T”
with Route 36, which runs high along the side of
a large east-west ridge. Rode east along Rt. 36,
continuing to climb gradually to ~4400 ft. This
is a beautiful road with sparse traffic … maybe
one vehicle every three-to-five minutes. Huge
views open up to the north … the entire Hayfork
Creek watershed. The opposite ridge is fifteen ~
twenty miles away. It’s even possible to make
out the snowcapped cone of 14,162 ft Mt. Shasta,
eighty miles away. Several sections of this road
made my legs wobbly as I rode along, due to the
enormous, abrupt dropoff.

Had lunch in Wildwood, a town made up of a
store/gas station/post office plus ten or twenty
homes scattered in the woods. Wildwood Road is a
narrow rustic road that parallels the uppermost
fifteen miles or so of Hayfork Creek. Some
sections of it are hundreds of feet above the
creek, with an abrupt dropoff. Gold mining
claims line the northern few miles of the road.

The final ~20 miles of today’s route travel east
along Route 3, from its junction with Wildwood
Road. The climb to Hayfork Summit (elev. 3654
ft.) is ~1200 feet, then a long fun descent to a
creek (elev. ~1700 ft.), then another climb of
~500 feet, then a short fun descent to tiny
Douglas City at elevation 1651 ft.

Camped at a small, very nice, and nearly empty
BLM campground along the pretty Trinity River,
just outside of Douglas City. The Trinity River
here is 60~80 feet across with a clean, rocky
bottom, and sandy, cottonwood-lined banks. Once
when I glanced at the river from my campsite, I
spotted an otter watching me from the middle of
the river. He disappeared in a flash, then
surfaced again and, seeing me still watching
him, disappeared for good.

I woke up during the night and saw five meteors
before falling back asleep 10~15 minutes later.
The moon had already set, so Jupiter and Saturn
dominated the sky between meteors.

Day Two:
Douglas City Campground to Trinity River
Campground
45 miles; 3300 feet climbing

44 degrees F at 7:10 AM. Sleeping bag is wet
with condensation again. I’m surprised how cold
the bottoms of these canyons get. The  elevation
here is only 1650 feet. But there’s a big supply
of cold air in the higher canyons, and it all
ends up down here at night.

Waited in camp to give the sun a chance to dry
the sleeping bag. On the road at 9:30AM. It was
a brisk fall morning. Temperature 49 degrees F.

Arrived Weaverville (seven miles away) and had a
big breakfast of eggs, waffles, and hashbrowns.
Weaverville is an old gold mining town. Many of
the buildings from the mining era have survived
and are still in use, and the main street in
town has a wild-wild west look to it. There
still isn’t much to attract droves of yuppies
here, so it still has a down to earth
atmosphere.

The scene in the diner is of a classic,
all-American Saturday morning. Everyone knows
each other, and everyone’s in a great mood. A
group of three firefighters comes in to eat, and
it’s obvious that they’re popular guys ...
they’re treated like celebrities.

Route 3 heads north from town, climbing
intermittently for several miles and gaining
~1200 feet or so before descending into the
impoundment of giant Trinity Lake (aka Claire
Engle lake). It extends roughly twenty miles
along its north-south axis. There are nine
pairs of resident bald eagles here, according
to the brochure.

The beautifully paved road runs along the
western side of the lake. The rocky 7000~9000
foot peaks of the Trinity Alps come into view
every now and then. They’re bare granite in the
early fall, but in the wintertime they are
dazzling, brilliant white.

No wind today, and the temperature is nice and
cool – 65~70 degrees F. But this beautiful road
is killing me! It gains 200~400 ft of elevation,
then gives it up. Then climbs again, then falls
again ... over and over for the twenty-some
miles
along the lake. Tiring riding.

Trinity Center is a nice little town, with its
store, gas station, and post office rolled into
a single building; plus a separate school and a
boat launch.

The north end of the lake is where the Trinity
River enters. Huge piles of mine tailings line
the riverbanks for hundreds of yards. The road
flattens out and leads north –-upriver-- along
the rocky floodplain of the river.

Arrived at the Trinity River forest service
campground and decided to camp there. It’s small
(seven sites) and has two nice sites right on
the river’s edge. I was the only guest in the
campground. The Trinity Alps rise from the
opposite side of the river. Directly across the
river from the campground towers Billy’s Peak: a
craggy outcropping rising 4600 feet above the
level of the campground to a height of 7343
feet.

The camp host here is seventy year old Chuck
Westgate, a retired electrician who has lived
here in a camper trailer year ‘round for six
years. Winters are pretty serious here, although
he says the last two have been mild, with only
thirty inches of snowfall each year. He’s an
official National Weather Service reporting
station: he logs the weather data each day, and
once a month the Weather Service calls him and
he reads his data to them. He has no car and no
phone, so he has to walk about a mile down the
river to take the calls at a phone in the tiny
general store in Coffee Creek.

He tells me it was thirty-six degrees here this
morning. I guess I’d better use my tent tonight
or the sleeping bag will be soaked with
condensation in the morning.

Klamath Mountains_ Introduction and Day 0.eml
Subject:
Klamath Mountains: Introduction and Day 0
From:
"Jeff C. Olsen" <outriding@earthlink.net>
Date:
10/3/2006 5:28 AM
To:
"Touring" <Touring@phred.org>

Way off near the northernmost edge of
California, a world away from the state’s large
and famous cities, is an obscure region of
fantastic mountainous country filled with some
of the best stuff in the west: dramatic
mountains with glaciers and year-round snowpack;
dazzling, jagged granite peaks with rugged
unexplored ridges; steep canyons bearing
wild-and-scenic rivers; and classic, western
frontier towns. These are the Klamath Mountains.

While the famous Sierra Nevada range draws
droves of weekend visitors, the Klamath
Mountains are unknown to most Californians and
are way off-the-beaten-path.

The land is populated with tiny, hardscrabble
communities and by solitary gold miners living
on small claims along the creeks. The modern
urban lifestyle with its trendy notions and
attitudes is beamed in on the television
airwaves but has not gained much traction here.

In fact, since the mid-1800s, residents of the
region have repeatedly pushed legislative
attempts to become a separate state. Although
none have succeeded officially, the unofficial
result is The State of Jefferson -- a state of
mind, really -- a secessionist attitude that
refuses to die.

Whatever state this is, it’s a fine venue for a
bike trip.

I spent seven days pedaling through this area
during September of 2000. The days featured
tiny, quiet roads and long climbs through the
mountains. The evenings featured campsites
alongside clear, rushing rivers. This report
describes each day’s ride and, hopefully,
provides useful information for anyone planning
a trip through the area. I’ll precede those
details, though, with a quick overview of the
interesting geology and the bizarre legends that
form the backdrop.

The Mountains, the Rivers, the Ecosystem, and
the Legends

1. The Klamath Mountains are actually a
collection of mountain ranges, jumbled together
in close proximity but formed by separate,
completely different processes in completely
different eras. They extend from the Oregon
Siskiyous through the Salmon Mountains, Marble
Mountains, Trinity Alps, and Yolla Bollys of
California. The Trinity Alps feature spectacular
jagged granite peaks reaching to 8000~9000 feet
and bearing glaciers on their northern slopes.

2. These ranges are separated by wild and scenic
rivers. Spectacular canyons are carved through
the mountains by the Klamath, Trinity, Upper
Sacramento, Scott, Salmon, Shasta, Mad, McCloud,
and Eel Rivers, and by Hayfork Creek. The
Klamath is the largest of these: its annual
discharge to the Pacific Ocean is exceeded only
by those of the Columbia and Sacramento Rivers
(the Colorado River drains to the Gulf of
Mexico). Within this territory lies the greatest
concentration of Wilderness Areas and Wild and
Scenic Rivers in America.

3. Some species have avoided extinction by
hunkering down here. The western edge of the
region is socked in by the gray, damp chill of
the northern Pacific coast. The eastern edge
endures the arid, inland furnace and the
wintertime blizzards of the northern California
volcanic sage plains. Superimposed onto this
extreme west-to-east climate gradient, even more
climatic chaos is brought about by the vertical
extremes. Between sea level and the comfortless
7000~9000 foot ridgetops are pockets of nearly
every imaginable habitat. Over the eons, these
pockets have been sanctuaries where the final
few survivors of various plant and animal
species have found refuge and avoided extinction
during eras when heavy handed glacial or
volcanic action, or larger-scale climate shifts,
have wiped out the rest of their populations
from less favorable habitats. Thus, some of
these pockets are populated with species that
exist nowhere else. The region is famous among
botanists for its richness of plant and animal
species.

4. Bigfoot. Could this land of harsh ridges and
inaccessible watersheds hide a population of
immense, hairy, bipeds? Sightings are reported
periodically, and not everyone dismisses them.
Some folks believe that many hundreds of these
“bigfoot” creatures live here, staying well away
from humans and dying in inaccessible nooks and
crannies where their bones are never found. The
legend was given a big charge of fuel in 1967
when a local hunter presented a short film clip
showing a bigfoot creature clambering into the
woods from a clearing along a creek. To date,
this is the only bigfoot photography that has
not been proven to be fake. See sidebar 3 for
more information.

5. At the eastern edge, everything changes.
This jumble of mountains ends abruptly at the
Trinity Divide, the easternmost range, where the
landscape transitions to the harsh scrublands of
the volcanic country to the east. Sagebrush,
manzanita, and avalanche debris populate this
rocky, barren landscape. Towering above these
plains is Mt. Shasta … the 14,162  ft. giant
Cascade volcano.

The Trip

Now on to the report of the bike trip. This was
a self-supported trip on my Cannondale touring
bike, loaded to the hilt with several tons of
food and camping gear, and shod with 35mm road
tires. Most of the miles were on paved roads.
The trip took seven days, began and ended in
Hayfork, and covered approximately 400 miles.
Most days involved one or more very long climbs
of 1000~3000 vertical feet, and the cumulative
total for the trip was just over 30,000 vertical
feet. Most of the land in this area is National
Forest, and generally it was easy to find a nice
riverside campsite each afternoon, either at a
designated campground or by improvising. The
trip took place in early September (7th through
14th) of 2000.

---------------
Day Zero:
Hayfork to the Ninemile Bridge camp
Nine miles; negative 200 feet climbing
September 7, 2000.

Drove from the San Francisco bay area to
Hayfork. Population ~1800, elevation 2327 ft.
Arrived 4:30pm.
Met a ranger named Ron Armstrong in the Forest
Service office and spent quite a bit of time
talking with him about the area. He was super
helpful and got me well oriented. Normally, he
said, he wouldn’t be here in town in the
summertime. He spends most summers on
firefighting teams, wherever the western forests
are on fire. This year, though, he was crushed
by a falling tree during a prescribed burn in
the spring.  Broke several ribs and smashed some
vertebrae. So he’s on the “disabled list”,
flying a desk this summer while he recovers.

It was early evening by the time I started
riding. Rode ~nine miles toward Hyampom (on
Hyampom Rd.) and set up camp at an unoccupied
fishing camp along the Hayfork Creek. This creek
is now a catch-and-release area; the Forest
Service is trying to revive its steelhead runs.

More tomorrow ...



Klamath Mountains_ Day One.eml
Subject:
Klamath Mountains: Day One
From:
"Jeff C. Olsen" <outriding@earthlink.net>
Date:
10/4/2006 5:19 AM
To:
"Touring" <Touring@phred.org>

Day One:
Ninemile Bridge camp, Peanut, Wildwood, Douglas
City
68 miles; 4200 feet climbing.

42 degrees F at 7:10 AM. Oh shoot, the top of my
down bag is soaked from condensation. I’m in a
narrow canyon that has accumulated a lot of the
cold, night air draining down from the higher
canyons. But the sun finally comes over the
ridgetop at 8:30, warms up the camp and quickly
dries the bag while I pack.

Backtracked last evening’s route, reached
Hayfork, then turned south onto Route 3. It
gradually climbs to ~3600 ft, then ends at a “T”
with Route 36, which runs high along the side of
a large east-west ridge. Rode east along Rt. 36,
continuing to climb gradually to ~4400 ft. This
is a beautiful road with sparse traffic … maybe
one vehicle every three-to-five minutes. Huge
views open up to the north … the entire Hayfork
Creek watershed. The opposite ridge is fifteen ~
twenty miles away. It’s even possible to make
out the snowcapped cone of 14,162 ft Mt. Shasta,
eighty miles away. Several sections of this road
made my legs wobbly as I rode along, due to the
enormous, abrupt dropoff.

Had lunch in Wildwood, a town made up of a
store/gas station/post office plus ten or twenty
homes scattered in the woods. Wildwood Road is a
narrow rustic road that parallels the uppermost
fifteen miles or so of Hayfork Creek. Some
sections of it are hundreds of feet above the
creek, with an abrupt dropoff. Gold mining
claims line the northern few miles of the road.

The final ~20 miles of today’s route travel east
along Route 3, from its junction with Wildwood
Road. The climb to Hayfork Summit (elev. 3654
ft.) is ~1200 feet, then a long fun descent to a
creek (elev. ~1700 ft.), then another climb of
~500 feet, then a short fun descent to tiny
Douglas City at elevation 1651 ft.

Camped at a small, very nice, and nearly empty
BLM campground along the pretty Trinity River,
just outside of Douglas City. The Trinity River
here is 60~80 feet across with a clean, rocky
bottom, and sandy, cottonwood-lined banks. Once
when I glanced at the river from my campsite, I
spotted an otter watching me from the middle of
the river. He disappeared in a flash, then
surfaced again and, seeing me still watching
him, disappeared for good.

I woke up during the night and saw five meteors
before falling back asleep 10~15 minutes later.
The moon had already set, so Jupiter and Saturn
dominated the sky between meteors.




Klamath Mountains_ Day 2.eml
Subject:
Klamath Mountains: Day 2
From:
"Jeff C. Olsen" <outriding@earthlink.net>
Date:
10/6/2006 5:20 AM
To:
"Touring" <Touring@phred.org>

Day Two:
Douglas City Campground to Trinity River
Campground
45 miles; 3300 feet climbing

44 degrees F at 7:10 AM. Sleeping bag is wet
with condensation again. I’m surprised how cold
the bottoms of these canyons get. The  elevation
here is only 1650 feet. But there’s a big supply
of cold air in the higher canyons, and it all
ends up down here at night.

Waited in camp to give the sun a chance to dry
the sleeping bag. On the road at 9:30AM. It was
a brisk fall morning. Temperature 49 degrees F.

Arrived Weaverville (seven miles away) and had a
big breakfast of eggs, waffles, and hashbrowns.
Weaverville is an old gold mining town. Many of
the buildings from the mining era have survived
and are still in use, and the main street in
town has a wild-wild west look to it. There
still isn’t much to attract droves of yuppies
here, so it still has a down to earth
atmosphere.

The scene in the diner is of a classic,
all-American Saturday morning. Everyone knows
each other, and everyone’s in a great mood. A
group of three firefighters comes in to eat, and
it’s obvious that they’re popular guys ...
they’re treated like celebrities.

Route 3 heads north from town, climbing
intermittently for several miles and gaining
~1200 feet or so before descending into the
impoundment of giant Trinity Lake (aka Claire
Engle lake). It extends roughly twenty miles
along its north-south axis. There are nine
pairs of resident bald eagles here, according
to the brochure.

The beautifully paved road runs along the
western side of the lake. The rocky 7000~9000
foot peaks of the Trinity Alps come into view
every now and then. They’re bare granite in the
early fall, but in the wintertime they are
dazzling, brilliant white.

No wind today, and the temperature is nice and
cool – 65~70 degrees F. But this beautiful road
is killing me! It gains 200~400 ft of elevation,
then gives it up. Then climbs again, then falls
again ... over and over for the twenty-some
miles
along the lake. Tiring riding.

Trinity Center is a nice little town, with its
store, gas station, and post office rolled into
a single building; plus a separate school and a
boat launch.

The north end of the lake is where the Trinity
River enters. Huge piles of mine tailings line
the riverbanks for hundreds of yards. The road
flattens out and leads north –-upriver-- along
the rocky floodplain of the river.

Arrived at the Trinity River forest service
campground and decided to camp there. It’s small
(seven sites) and has two nice sites right on
the river’s edge. I was the only guest in the
campground. The Trinity Alps rise from the
opposite side of the river. Directly across the
river from the campground towers Billy’s Peak: a
craggy outcropping rising 4600 feet above the
level of the campground to a height of 7343
feet.

The camp host here is seventy year old Chuck
Westgate, a retired electrician who has lived
here in a camper trailer year ‘round for six
years. Winters are pretty serious here, although
he says the last two have been mild, with only
thirty inches of snowfall each year. He’s an
official National Weather Service reporting
station: he logs the weather data each day, and
once a month the Weather Service calls him and
he reads his data to them. He has no car and no
phone, so he has to walk about a mile down the
river to take the calls at a phone in the tiny
general store in Coffee Creek.

He tells me it was thirty-six degrees here this
morning. I guess I’d better use my tent tonight
or the sleeping bag will be soaked with
condensation in the morning.