South Yuba Trail: Purdon Crossing to Edwards Crossing

Me in Action at Edwards Crossing

With Labor Day behind us, my hiking buddy Erik felt like it was summer and was anxious to visit the High Sierra this weekend, but I vetoed that, as May 31st is still a little early. I thought the wildflower blooms ought to still be strong in the foothills, so I suggested that instead we return to the South Yuba River Recreation Area, where we had such a lovely hike last year--although I paid for that one afterwards with severe poison ivy rashes that sent me to the doctor for a prescription.

The South Yuba River Recreation Area is composed of a patchwork of Bureau of Land Management property and land that is part of South Yuba River State Park. It stretches from the historic covered bridge at Bridgeport (photo) to Tahoe National Forest, and is contiguous with Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park, presenting plenty of opportunities for hiking, camping, swimming, and gold mining. Yes, limited forms of gold mining are allowed along the stretches of river running through Bureau of Land Management property (but not in the state parks).

Our hike was along the South Yuba River National Trail from one historic bridge, Purdon Crossing, to the next one upstream, Edwards Crossing. To get to Purdon Crossing, we drove to Nevada City, then took North Bloomfield Rd. to the junction with Lake Vera-Purdon Rd., and then took that winding road past Lake Vera to Purdon Crossing. The last stretch was mostly unpaved, and heavily rutted in parts. It was slow going. It's paved road all the way to Edwards Crossing, but I chose to start at Purdon just so we would have more uphill hiking on the way out, and then could have it a little easier on the way back. But there isn't a great deal of difference in elevation between the two river crossings.


Purdon Crossing

We parked just short of Purdon Crossing and the short turnoff to the parking area for the trailhead. That wasn't intentional--I didn't realize there was a larger parking area--but it did afford us the opportunity of viewing and photographing the historic bridge.

According to this interesting website, the bridge dates from 1895 and "is the only remaining half-through metal truss system bridge west of the Rocky Mountains." The "half-through" part I believe refers to the fact that the deck of the bridge is set at the vertical midpoint of the metal truss.


Caterpillar

We hiked up the turnoff to the parking area (no facilities), which had a caterpillar crawling across that we stopped to photograph. From there we were presented with two trail choices, the signed trail to Edwards Crossing, indicating a distance of 4.5 miles, which was quite a bit longer than what I had told Erik from looking at my map, and also a much wider path--maybe an old road--that keeps low along the river. This leads to several swimming spots and a campsite.

We took the South Yuba National Trail, which climbs up the side of the canyon on a narrow path that in the early going had lots of vegetation spilling onto it. Erik loves that, as opposed to the wide open trails, but it was making me nervous after last year's miserable experience with poison oak. And as Erik pointed out, there sure were a lot of plants with leaves in groups of three.

The trail climbs quite a bit above the river, and while we could always hear the South Yuba flowing, we couldn't always see it, although we would catch glimpses now and then. The vegetation was thick, and being on the south side of the canyon, out of direct sunlight for most of the day, it was still quite damp. I'm sure this late in the season that the exposed north side of the canyon was mostly dry. It was also a warm day, with a forecast of 85 degrees for Nevada City, and the combination of warmth and moisture meant there were plenty of mosquitoes, making me doubly glad (in addition to the protection from poison oak) that I had worn pants and long-sleeves.


Erik Stalking Wildflowers

The wildflower display was pretty strong. In hikes past, I would have at least taken a quick photo of each one so that I could have tried to identify them for my hike report, but I'm getting pretty lazy about stopping to photograph wildflowers anymore. We did pause to photograph a few, though.


Indian Pink

There were some use trails down to the river at points, and some of these were quite well worn--so much that I would hesitate, wondering which was the main trail. But we just always took the upper trail until reaching the clearly signed junction with the trail coming down from Round Mountain. It didn't have mileages marked, but I would guess that the junction is 2 miles from Purdon Crossing and 2.5 miles from Edwards Crossing.


More Wildflowers

Between that junction and Edwards Crossing, we hit a rocky section that was more exposed, and consequently had better views of the river. We saw a group of 4 kayakers floating below us. At one point, the trail was eroded and we had to be careful stepping over it, as there was a steep drop off at that point.


Detail, Edwards Crossing

Eventually we could see the next bridge and the trail started heading down to it. At the trailhead there were many vehicles parked, and a pit toilet. I headed straight across the bridge and climbed down on the rocks to the river to get a picture of the bridge while the light was still coming a little bit from the side, although it was mostly from overhead at that point, and I wasn't too pleased with my shots. Erik took a photo of me in action from the deck of the bridge. According to the aforementioned website, the bridge at Edwards Crossing was built in 1904.


Sign at Edwards Crossing

After making use of the facilities, we started back. This was not anywhere near a difficult hike in comparison to many of the others we have done, but I was anxious to get back to the car, and not looking forward to the long hike. It had been over a month since my last hike, which is an unusually long stretch for me. It was a warm day and I was sweating a lot. And I hadn't told Erik (still haven't, until he reads this), but I was under the weather, and had put my cell phone by my bed the night before so I could call him first thing in the morning to cancel the hike, if need be. I was starting to think that maybe I should have.

But while I felt drained, I just kept plodding on, one step after another until we made it to the car. I didn't stop for photos on the way back, and after carrying the camera in my hand for a while, because the weight on my neck was causing discomfort, I finally tucked the camera away in my backpack. Erik got some interesting shots though, including one of two lizards giving a third lizard a hickey. Either that or they were trying to bite its head off. Peculiar.

So, a question left unanswered at the beginning--with all of that poison oak in the area, and the precautions I took against it, did I end up getting poison oak? Of course. I always get poison oak. This is just the third time this year, after six times last year, but that's mainly due to the fact that I have been hiking less. Fortunately, it appears to be confined to a small patch on my left arm near my wrist, unlike last year's South Yuba River hike, when it was all over me, and I was miserable.

But my next hike is going to be in the Sierras, where Erik wanted to go this time--there's no poison oak above 4,000 feet.

South Yuba Trail/Humbug Trail/Malakoff Diggins

Spring is the ideal time to hike in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, a historic gold mining area. So for this April weekend, I searched for good hikes in the region, and ended up on the the Bureau of Land Management's website for South Yuba Trail and Campground, where I downloaded a map and planned out my hike. Having seen a beautiful photo of Malakoff Diggins for sale the previous weekend at the visitor center for South Yuba River State Park, I selected that as the destination of the hike. It turns out that my friend Erik was able to make it, so I picked him up Sunday morning and headed to Gold Country.

Highway 49 skirts around the beautiful old gold mining town of Nevada City, forcing you to make a left-hand turn at a light, where straight ahead is CA 20. Very soon you come to another light and North Bloomfield Road. After a while, North Bloomfield Road narrows and gets rougher, and then it descends to the South Yuba River, where there is an old bridge with a wooden deck. On the other side of the deck, the road is gravel. A short distance on this road takes you to South Yuba Campground, where camping is only $5 per night.

We parked in the parking lot for day users above the campground, and started out. The trail initially parallels the campground road, until reaching the main trailhead. It was a brisk morning, and the whole area we were hiking in at the beginning was in shade, so I kept a jacket on.

I didn't have high expectations from this hike. It is not mentioned in my hiking books. I just knew that we would have an opportunity to see some of the wildflowers of the foothills, and that this is a hike best done before it gets hot (unless you plan to go swimming), as it is at low elevation.

But right away we saw promising signs. The wildflowers were there, alright, as we spotted a shrub with bright yellow flowers (Scotch broom?) and and several tiny little blue flowers with white centers right near the trailhead. And we were barely started when we came across Kennebec Creek and a sign for a waterfall. Rounding a corner, we found the stream flowing across a smooth section of granite, with a small horsetail waterfall above it, and a few clumps of tiny pink flowers on the banks of the creek below.



After the obligatory photos, we started off and immediately encountered some deep red flowers. Soon the trail joined an old road grade from gold mining days, which heads down to Illinois Crossing. Erik kept pointing out plants that he thought looked like poison oak here. Some people do not develop a rash even if they rub against poison oak. Me, I am very sensitive to it, and don't even need to touch it. The oil that causes rashes can be borne on the wind. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to get poison oak and itch for three weeks, and I don't worry about it (although I still try to avoid touching anything that vaguely resembles the descriptions I have read).

We followed the old road grade only as far as the junction where South Yuba Trail turns off of it to run parallel to the South Yuba River along the north wall of the canyon formed by the river. There were small ups and downs, but the trail is not too challenging, and it is clear and relatively smooth. It might make for a challenging bike ride (bicyclists are allowed on it), but it's easy for hiking. We encountered many more types of wildflowers. Only one was in great abundance, covering large swaths in this area just where the trail begins to follow the river, but there were small clumps of different varieties here and there. Occasionally we could glimpse the river below, seeing bits of white water and emerald pools. Usually we could see the south wall of the canyon, covered with intermixed conifers and deciduous trees.



At 1 1/2 miles out we encountered the sign for Overlook Point Picnic Site. We found the picnic tables, but not much of an overlook. Perhaps the vegetation has cut off a view that the area used to have thirty years ago. Along with names, carved in one of the picnic tables was the year 1978, with moss growing in the depression of the carving. Around this area we started to take note of one type of flowering chaparral, fully decked out with small purplish pink flowers, possibly western redbud.


Dudleya

When we reached Long Point, we had our most spectacular view of the river and its canyon. At this point the river swings to the north on a large horseshoe bend, and the south canyon wall protrudes in a smooth curve further softened by the lush vegetation. Unfortunately, we were on the north side of the canyon looking south, giving poor lighting for a photograph.



I don't recall if it is right before this, or right after, but a spur trail down to river is very near here, labeled North Canyon Spur. The signage there indicates that it is 3 miles from the trailhead at South Yuba Campground. We pushed on and as the river continued to rise in elevation as we hiked upstream, we finally descended to just above it at the junction with Humbug Trail, 4 1/2 miles out from the campground, where there are two picnic tables, and the second best view of the river on the portion of the South Yuba Trail we covered.



The mercifully short initial portion of Humbug Trail is extremely steep. We huffed and puffed, and right at the top of it found the same deep red flowers we had seen early on the hike, only in better lighting, which made for a good excuse to stop for a moment. The rest of the trail wasn't that bad, but it was certainly more difficult than South Yuba Trail, and required a bit of scrambling over rocks now and then.

Humbug Trail follows Humbug Creek, named in response to the disappointment of gold miners who were led to believe they would get rich there. Initially the creek is far below the trail, but as we hiked upstream it got closer to the trail, and we began to see many fine small waterfalls. Where it was easy to get down to the creek at a particularly rich area of them, we stopped to take some photos. There are old and rusted iron rods coming out of the granite there, no doubt remains from the gold rush.





Erik wanted to attempt to cross the creek here, for a better view of some falls below, but I thought it would be best for us to continue on and see all there was to see, before deciding on what was worth spending time going off trail for. So we kept going.

Then we reached a totally unexpected delight, a massive tiered waterfall, with a final plunge of about 25 feet. Humbug Creek Falls, it is, as we found out later from a sign we saw at the end of the trail. I had no idea we would see anything like that.

Above the falls, Humbug Trail enters a more subdued region of forest, without the steep canyon walls, and the creek farther distant. We crossed two small tributary streams, one dry, and the other just a trickle, and passed above a campground. Finally, we came to a gravel road and the trailhead, the start of Humbug Trail for most people, although the end for us. Judging from the map I figured if we turned right and headed east on the road we should soon find a trail over to Malakoff Diggins.

That turned out to be the case. Specifically, we ran into a sign explaining the North Bloomfield Drain Tunnel, a 7,874-foot tunnel 200 feet below. A creek flowing here across orangish mud--orange from all the iron in it--drops down into the tunnel through an old shaft. Another sign here indicated that the trail alongside it provided access to Malakoff Diggins.

We were soon upon them. The diggins are the strangely beautiful aftermath of massive environmental destruction in quest of gold. This was not the romantic scene of thousands of gold miner venturing west, clambering down steep canyon walls and staking claims in the hopes of a finding enough gold to provide them with a comfortable life. This was the work of a massive industry financed by major financiers, designed by engineers, and carried out by legions of low-paid workers.

The walls of the canyon were washed away with high pressure hoses, exposing more and more ore to be processed for gold, and sending dirt and debris downstream in massive amounts. This killed off the fish in the creeks and rivers, and put so much silt in the system downstream that towns had to build high levee walls to contain rivers with ever rising beds. The town of Marysville, built along the banks of the Yuba River near where it flows into the Feather River, now sits below the level of the river, protected from it by a massive levee. Out in the countryside, crops were frequently damaged from floods resulting from all the sediment and tailings washing downstream.


Malakoff Diggins

It was this very mine that was the subject of the landmark court decision in 1884 in the case of Woodruff v. North Bloomfield Mining and Gravel Company that would eventually put an end to hydraulic mining in California, although it took many years to fully enforce it. In all the time since, nature has made progress in reclaiming this area, but the massive scar along the edge of the park, caused by work that started more than a century before I was born, will long outlive me.

In all, we hiked about 7 1/2 miles from the campground to Malakoff Diggins. We could have taken a shortcut back, following North Bloomfield Road. But, of course, we wanted to photograph the waterfalls, and I wanted to see some of the different sights along the way in different light.

When we got back to the big waterfall, we took a small side trail over to a granite area between the two tiers of it. We were right at the plunge pool for the smaller upper falls, and on the verge of the larger lower falls. I laid myself out on granite and stuck my camera out to take a photo over the edge.


The Edge of Humbug Creek Falls

Back on the trail, I could see that it would be possible to get to the base of it via a scramble down the canyon wall for the best photos. But I thought maybe farther down the trail we might have easier access to the creek, and be able to work our way upstream to it. I did find a place where the scramble was easier, and we went to the creek. But I found huge boulders here blocked the view of the falls, and I couldn't find a way to get far enough upstream for that view from there. So I scrambled straight up to the trail again, which left me winded. It was getting to be quite a long and tiring hike, so I didn't have the energy to go back and try the more difficult scramble.



Instead we went down trail. At one point there is view of a fine series of small falls. I took a long exposure here, using my backpack as a tripod (I stupidly forgot my Gorillapod in the trunk of the car). Erik wanted to scramble down here and take more shots, but I was too exhausted, so I went ahead and took more long exposures of other small waterfalls.



It took Erik a while to catch up to me. He told me that he had been obsessing over some dudleya. As I left him, I saw him paying attention to more dudleya. When I got back to the very steep initial portion of Humbug Trail, I stopped just above it to wait for Erik, who must have once again have found himself obsessed with dudleya. But if something more serious was holding him up, like an injury, I didn't want to have to reclimb that steep portion to look for him, which is why I waited until I saw him before starting down it. Shortly before he appeared, I heard bird noises that vaguely reminded me of turkeys, but they were coming from up in the trees behind me. I was reminded of John Muir's descriptions of all that you can hear and see if you stay still and quiet in the wilderness for a while, and let its denizens return to their daily routine. Erik's approach silenced my unseen companion.

Back on South Yuba Trail we met two mountain bikers at picnic tables. Other than a couple we passed in both directions on Humbug Trail, these were the only people we had seen all day. Later we would encounter one more person, a man jogging past us in the opposite direction.



Other than more stops for wildflowers on the way back, the highlight was an encounter with a rattlesnake. I saw him up ahead on the trail and thought I would quickly sneak up on him so I could get a good photograph. Thinking on it now, I recall the advice I have read about rattlesnakes--to make lots of noise with your footsteps so that they have plenty of warning and will get out of the way before you can startle them. Quickly sneaking up on a rattlesnake is the last thing you want to do. He was startled and took off while rattling at the same time. I got a lousy photo.

I thought he might have taken off entirely, but as I continued forward, he started rattling again. He was in the rocks at the edge of trail, taking cover. I just kept walking and he stopped rattling. When Erik came along I warned him that there was an angry rattlesnake in the rocks that would rattle at him as he passed. He kept asking me "Where?" I kept repeating "In the rocks," while pointing at a pile of rocks. Erik seemed quite nervous and when the snake started to rattle he momentarily stopped and looked to the side. I told him to keep moving, and soon he was past and the snake stopped his noisemaking.

Being on fairly easy trail again, we were able to recover and make better time than I expected coming back, which allowed the leisure of a few more wildflower photographs. I waited for Erik at a split in the trail at the end--one way leading back to the campground, the other leading to the parking for day users. While waiting I heard rustling, and looked down to see a quivering mouse trying to burrow under leaves to hide from me. When it was finally out of sight the rustling stopped.

Despite making better time on the final portion than I expected, it still took us a full 8 1/2 hours to complete the hike. Even though it was a cool day, I went through all of the water I brought with me.



Today, the day after, my legs don't feel too bad. Erik was right about the poison oak, however. I've already developed rashes in several areas, and my past experience leads me to believe it is going to get a lot worse as the week goes along.