Hike Mt. Shasta

The Cloudripper lacerates a cloudless Sierra Nevada sky.

It is hard for me to believe that this summer marks 10 years since I did all the work that produced my book Hiking Northern California. That year was one of the best of my life and, in terms of outdoor adventure, it was by far the best year of my life. From March to October, I spent a significant chunk of each month (often 2 weeks each month!) on the trail, hiking up and down the state. The number of miles I put on, the sights seen, the majesty witnessed and the adventures had stamped that summer with a special memorial quality. Never again will I have that kind of opportunity or freedom or see that much land by trail again. It was pure magic.

In terms of the book written, it is my opus. It was my goal that if someone who will never set foot in California were to pick the book up and read it, they would experience that state’s unsurpassed beauty and diversity in both word and image and perhaps perceive a little of the wonder that permeates the Golden State’s natural landscape. I think I accomplished that goal to some degree. The result (at least, this is what  I am hoping) is a hiking guide that is a journey in the mind, not just afoot and not just a simple “go here, turn there” type endeavor. I wanted it to be something more. Add to that the quality of the images and maps and the general layout of the book, I think the final product is unsurpassed in the hiking guide world. At least I think so, but I guess I am a bit biased.

This anniversary seems like a fitting time to look back at some of the hikes I did for the book. It was a great year and hard to believe I was blessed with the opportunity. Maybe it is strange, but I feel a certain pride of privilege in being able to write about places like Yosemite in a published work, even if it is just a hiking guide. I hope that the book, even just a hiking guide, found its way to someone, somewhere and they were blessed by it.

March:

Things started off slow and I stuck mostly to the coast in March. While the mountains of the state are buried in snow, the coast is a prime destination. While Alamere Falls is my favorite hike of this section, the hike around Mount Diablo is the most memorable on this occasion. It was the first hike of the book I completed and a perfect day with absolutely astounding vistas.

April:

April was much more adventurous. It included a trip down to Big Sur, which was great because my brother was living down in Carmel at the time. Not only was I able to stay with him but some of his kids joined me on hikes, which was a real treat. While Big Basin Redwoods was my favorite hike (a trail now forever altered forever by the CZU fire in 202o, though it is making a remarkable recovery!), the loop through the Pinnacles was the most memorable due to running into a stubborn flock of California condors and being able to see them up very, very close.

May:

While I was itching to get up into the mountains, life took me to other parts of the state. This was good, because I needed to check off some trails in some out-of-the-way places. Of this assortment of hikes, by far the most memorable was the San Joaquin River Gorge. That is a tale that bears reminiscing.

My wife and I had to head to parts of California that I need to hike trails in. While most of these were in the redwoods, one of them was down by Fresno. We were there for a wedding but I wanted to include the San Joaquin Gorge as a good Sierra foothill hike. We had our three kids with us, including my youngest, who was 1 at the time. It was in the mid 90’s and, while my wife is absolutely game to hike, the three kids were not. So, since the trailhead was extremely well shaded, we decided they would stay there, have lunch, play and possibly nap. I was going to charge through the 7 miles of the hike to get back to them as quickly as possible. I made sure they had everything they needed, including much water and I hit the trail. It was only when I was several miles into the hike that I realized that, in making sure my family had all they needed, I had left my water with them. Fortunately, I had a half full 20oz bottle of water left over in my backpack from a previous hike. This was an absolute grace and I was able to nurse it all the way through the loop of the lollipop.

When I reached the bridge over the San Joaquin, I was relieved. I felt good and it meant I only had one mile left to go back to my family. One mile and 300 hundred feet of elevation gain. I had flown down this section of trail at the beginning. In celebration, I drank what was left of my water in one gulp. I made it about 50 up the trail when suddenly I bonked (or the dehydration version of it). That last mile now felt insurmountable. I honestly have no idea how long it took me to hike that last mile, but it was accomplished by means of the “one inch shuffle”. When I finally staggered, slow-motion, back to the trailhead, I called out to my wife but it only came out a near-silent wheeze. She finally saw me and was relieved. Thankfully, she took tender care of her enfeebled husband and we all rejoiced that the now infamous San Joaquin Death March was over (although, I rejoiced silently).

June:

I made two trips in June. The first was around the Lassen area, hitting some great hikes through the lesser traveled, eastern part of the park. The Cinder Cone and Painted Dunes are still one of my favorite parts of the Cascades. It was while hiking the Biz Johnson Trail and wearing what proved to be the wrong socks very cavalierly that I got horrific blisters. They were so bad I had to seriously upgrade my first aide kit with a variety of blister solutions and carefully manage my feet the rest of the year.

The second trip was down to the Sierra Nevada (finally!) for the first time that summer. I drove down to Kings Canyon and Sequoia and then worked my way north through the Sierra, spending considerable time around Tahoe and the far northern reaches of the range. It was made more memorable by having my parents join me in Sequoia National Park. My parents were lifelong Yosemite hikers (84/83 and still camping for a week in the valley in 2026!) but they had never made it to SEKI. However, my favorite hike was Hetch Hetchy. The falls were so full it really couldn’t be beat!

July:

July was one of the best months of the year. I hit the Sierra Nevada hard. Aside from my family’s annual week in Yosemite (which included a stop in Lundy Canyon), I sojourned around Tahoe and the central Sierra. While Tahoe is magical, I find the central Sierra particularly alluring. As you move south through the range, it has the first large wilderness area, which gives at a sense of vastness not found in the Tahoe Sierra and further north. It also has a really unique geology, with the classic Sierra granite overlain by volcanic mudflows. At once strange but also classic. The relative lack of people up there is also a treat. I also made the first foray into the High Sierra. Oh yeah, I also hiked a bunch on Mount Shasta.

August:

The High Sierra beckoned in August. This was pretty tough to beat. I worked my way down a few destinations accessed from the west before cruising over Tehachapi Pass and then winding back north along the Eastern Sierra. The best part was the three day trifecta of hiking Little Lakes Valley, Thousand Island Lake and the Gaylor Lakes in Yosemite with my brother. If I had to pick a best part of the whole summer, that was it. Unbeatable scenery with unbeatable company. We covered a lot of ground and laughed the whole way. Life is good.

September:

With summer winding down and autumn starting to set in, I had one last trip I needed to get done and it was a grand way to end a magical summer. I summited Lassen Peak on my way south and then started a string of classic High Sierra hikes. My favorite was the Cloudripper loop but I think the most memorable moment came when I was sitting on Kearsarge Pass and a backcountry ranger stopped for a break while at the pass’s grand vista. She lamented having left her blister kit back home and she was setting out for a week of patrolling the John Muir Trail. I gladly tossed her my extensive and carefully curated blister first aid kit. She thankfully accepted it and headed out for Vidette Meadow. Passing off that particular bit of gear was a sort of farewell to arms, marking the final hike of the summer. I went back to Lone Pine and got a pizza. The next morning I scrambled all over the Alabama Hills and then headed back to Mount Shasta. What an epic, glorious summer.

October:

Almost as an afterthought, I hiked to Devil’s Punchbowl in the Siskiyou Wilderness. The fall color had already set in and it was a bit rainy but a beautiful hike in a remote and spectacular area. It was the final hike I did for the book. Now the fun was over and I actually had to write the thing. A thesaurus at my side, I actually knocked the writing out with ease. With a muse like the summer that I had just lived, how could it not.

Hopefully, somehow, someway, the book has blessed someone. It almost feels selfish to have taken the opportunity given me. My wife was ever-patient and supportive. In her and for that, I am most grateful.  It was a blessing for myself. The experiences I had, the vistas I enjoyed and the glory I beheld continue to edify me.