Weekend Trip To Letts Lake

Thursday I loaded the kayaks, some camping gear and some fishing stuff into the pickup and headed up to Letts Lake to meet up with my brother and try to get a little relief from all the political stuff that seems to be overwhelming me right now.

I drove up Elk Mountain Road from Upper Lake to Bear Creek Road then down to the crossing at the Rice Fork of the Eel river.  Then Forest Service Road M10 to the Letts Lake turnoff.  Elk mountain road is in very bad need of repair.  Although it was the only paved road after leaving the valley at the CC Camp Campground it was the worst part of the entire trip.  Many large potholes.  I think I saw an early version Miata  in the bottom of one.  To be fair they have done some excellent resurfacing of parts the road.  But since (and probably during)  the Ranch Fire that started in July of 2018 and burned 410,203  acres, there has been a lot of new damage from all the heavy equipment and logging trucks.

I almost missed the Bear Creek Road turnoff because every thing looks so different since the fire damage.  Although the rest of the drive was all dirt and gravel it is much smoother and well maintained.

The drive was both relaxing and sad. It was sad because some of the Forest Service Roads have either been closed or turned into OHV Trails and also the damage caused by the fire is so depressing.  It was relaxing as I reminisced about the past when we used to camp at Bear Creek campground.

I remember loading up that ’72 Datsun Pickup with the cabover camper and driving up from the Bay Area on a Friday night after work with the girls in the back.  We’d meetup with Aunt Rita and Uncle Bob and their grandsons Bruce and Brian and Dad at Bear Creek Campground. Some times I’d leave the girls with Aunt Rita and go hunt up on Snow Mountain or Goat Mountain for the Day. It was always fun for me and it appeared that the girls had fun also as they always were ready to go again.  Sometimes I went alone but I almost always ran into a relative, sometimes Harold, sometimes Joe.

One time I burned the clutch out trying to get that little Datsun to haul that loaded Camper up out of the Eel river crossing.   Joe showed up to help.  I crawled under that Datsun pickup and Joe was talking to me from above.  Then I heard him yell “rattle snake”.  I didn’t know what to do.  Should I crawl out the other side, back the side I crawled in, go left or right?  I looked around for Joe’s feet and couldn’t see them anywhere.  It was obvious to me that he had abandoned me with a rattle snake nearby.  So I just laid still.  No buzzing.  OK then I’ll move a little.  Still no buzzing. Finally I eased myself out from under that Datsun pausing to listen for that buzz every time I moved a little.  After standing up I looked around for Joe and the snake.  He was a ways away over by the creek bank.  The snake had gone down a squirrel hole and escaped my shovel that time.  In retrospect  I was glad Joe was there but at the time I sure wanted to know where that rattle snake was.

On another trip Dad and I were camping at Fir Root Spring.  We had been wanting to hunt the Frank Bucknell Place but the road wasn’t passable by any of our vehicles except maybe Dad’s motorcycle.  I think it was a Honda 90.  So we rode the little bike down below Forty Acre Rock to the Frank Bucknell place.  When we started back up the trail we discovered that it wouldn’t be able to carry both us up that hill at the same time. So I got to walk back to camp.  That was OK with me because I get to see a lot more by walking instead of riding no the back of a motorcycle.

Then there was the time Judy & I were making a trip through the mountains in that old Dodge truck.  It was not loaded heavy enough for the traction it would need to go up through the gravel so it just spun the rear tires.  So I thought we’ll just shift some of the weight farther to the rear.  We moved every thing we could to the back of the pickup bed.  Just for good measure I got Judy to stand on the rear bumper and hang onto the tailgate.  When I got onto solid ground I discovered that Judy was on the gravel bar still and not vertical.  Fortunate she didn’t break any bones but I don’t thing she will ever let me forget.

Enough reminiscing.  I got to the lake and met up with Bob.  We camped and talked.  He fished I paddled.

Letts Lake

Ducks under the table.

I had these visitors under the table before Sparky, Bob’s dog arrived.  The ducks chose to visit other camps while Sparky was with us.

On the way back home I took a little detour out to Forty Acre Rock and Fir Root Spring.

The glade in the center of the frame is the Frank Bucknell Place.

Twin Valleys as seen from Forty Acre Rock

I had fun.  I hope Bob did also.