Showing posts with label Domes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Domes. Show all posts

Saturday, June 26, 2021

Castle Dome

DATE: Saturday, June 26, 2021
DISTANCE: 10.33 km / 6.42 miles
ELEVATION GAIN: 741m / 2430'
TIME TAKEN: 5:00
SUMMIT: Castle Dome: 1514m / 4966'
CASTLE CRAGS STATE PARK
CASTLE CRAGS WILDERNESS
SHASTA-TRINITY NATIONAL FOREST
SISKIYOU COUNTY, CA
OKWANUCHU, NOM TI POM WINTU AND SHASTA STOLEN LAND
SOUNDTRACK: Blackwitch Pudding: Acid Castle Mountain Top


PHOTO ALBUM
MAP








FURTHER READING
Castle Dome: PEAKBAGGER / SUMMITPOST

FULL HIKE REPORT COMING SOON



Thursday, June 4, 2020

Balloon Dome

DATE: Thursday, June 4, 2020
DISTANCE: 44km / 27.36 miles
ELEVATION GAIN: 2467m / 8,095 ft.
TIME TAKEN: A few days
SUMMIT: Balloon Dome 2099m / 6879 ft.
SIERRA NATIONAL FOREST
ANSEL ADAMS WILDERNESS

FRESNO COUNTY, CA
SOUNDTRACK: 99 Luftballoons

PHOTO ALBUM
MAP










 

Balloon Dome is a granite monolith that towers nearly 3,000 feet over the Middle Fork San Joaquin River canyon in the Ansel Adams Wilderness. I have many reasons for climbing mountains, some are historic or famous, or just close by, some have a cool name, some have an interesting shape that I admired from a distance. I first saw Balloon Dome from an airplane window on a flight back to California from Spain in May of 2018. I had the window seat (actually I had all three seats on a surprisingly empty flight), and I was peering out as we passed over the Sierra Nevada, eagerly anticipating a glimpse of Yosemite Valley or something else interesting. I saw Yosemite indeed, but farther south, something caught my eye: a majestic Yosemite style granite dome, off all by it’s self, towering over the edge of a dramatic canyon. What was that? I was intrigued, and I knew I would have to find out what it was, and attempt to climb it one day. Over the next few months, I did my research on the internet and found out that the rock in question was called Balloon Dome. I thought it a rather silly name for such a distinctive feature, but my interest was not diminished, the image of the lone granite tooth rising at the edge of the gorge was already burned into my brain. My casual research continued, and to my delight, I found that there was actually a class three route to the top of the dome. I wouldn’t have to wait years to develop my technical climbing skills to surmount my holy mountain. All available data pointed out that reaching Balloon Dome was one hell of a hike, about twenty three miles round trip, with formidable elevation loss and gain. But that could be dealt with.

For about a year and half, Balloon Dome kicked around in my brain, and I waited for the right time and situation to make the trip happen. Welcome to June of 2020. My two little brothers are about the only people I know who are brave enough or dumb enough to accompany on just about any hike I suggest, so it seemed natural that they would end up accompanying me on this epic, which was to be an backpacking trip with one night spent out in the bush. Alex has extensive wilderness and  trail, so it’s good to have him around as a voice of reason, and Axell used to run cross country, and therefore isn’t intimidated by distance, so the team was assembled. Wait, why you ask, do I have two little brothers with almost exactly the same name? How about you read through this hike report, and I will tell you why at the very end. Anyway, Alex was about to move away to southwestern Oregon to go back to work in the Forest Service, and we wanted to all squeeze in a hike together before he left. The boys knew pretty well by now that Balloon Dome was at the top of my list, so we all agreed that this would be our destination, our final hike all together for awhile.

TUESDAY, JUNE 2: The team was assembled at our parents’ house in Jackson, California, and after putting some of Alex’s possessions from his former home in Oakland in storage, we left for the wilderness around noon, driving all the way down Highway 49 to Oakhurst, where we got our wilderness permit at the ranger station there. After obtaining last minute fuel and supplies from the gas station, we were off into the trees, past Bass Lake, and up Beasore Road into the extensive realm of the Sierra National Forest. Beasore Road took us north, with glimpses of the Shuteye Range, then east, around the north end of the range. As I recall, the road was mostly paved at the beginning, and less paved later on. We stopped to have a look at a peculiar feature known as Globe Rock, a ball of dark granite perched precariously upon a pedestal. In it’s shadow was coiled the first and only rattlesnake of the whole expedition. We couldn’t help but stop again at the Portuguese Creek Overlook, where there was a fine view of the Shuteye Range, now to the south, and up at some excellent rock formations which I later determined are called “The Balls.”

We followed Beasore Road to it’s conclusion, where we turned south on Minarets Road, and shortly were at the end of our driving: The McCreary Trailhead. It was already about 6PM by the time we arrived, and although there was still some daylight left, any plans of getting a head start on the hike were cast aside when we saw the perfect campsite waiting for us right there. So we decided to set up camp for the night, and continue on to Balloon Dome the next morning. After establishing camp, a visit to nearby Piyau Dome was considered, but we decided instead to to do a preliminary scout hike to check out the trail, so we would know where we were going in the morning. And it was nice to walk after sitting in the van all day. Zuma the dog was especially thrilled. We immediately went the wrong way, missing the McCreary Trail completely, and going down an overgrown road that curved to the north. We had already been savaged by mosquitoes and I had slashed open my knee while climbing over a log before we realized out error, and turned back. This was not starting out well. Back at the campsite, we found McCreary Trail, which was rather faint and hard to follow, and made it down to Miller Creek, where an especially robust concentration of mosquitoes attacked us from all angles. Having lost the remaining light now, we retreated to camp, cooked dinner and relaxed by the firelight.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 3: I was up at about 6am, maybe before the others, and for some reason it took us a REALLY long time to eat breakfast and strike camp, and we weren’t on the trail until about nine. But we were finally off! I was full of energy and enthusiastic, and my 25 pound pack was barely noticeable at this point. The trail was evident enough in the full daylight, and there were new views of Piyau Dome as we continued along, followed by the first sighting of Balloon Dome, to the east. McCreary Trail joins hits a 4WD road after about a two miles, and we continued east on this. We got to the sign for the Cassidy Trail, where we should have turned left, but we thought we were already on it, as we continued to follow the 4WD road, which ended at a bluff overlooking Granite Creek and “Trailhead Dome.” So we circled through some mild brush, caught the actual Cassidy Trail, and followed it down to the very well constructed bridge over Granite Creek, where we took our first break. Everyone but me drank water right out the clear, cold creek. After crossing the bridge, we continued on the Cassidy Trail, which we would follow all the way down to the Cassidy Bridge on the San Joaquin River. Just after 11am, we passed into Ansel Adams Wilderness.

The trail after this was mostly downhill as we hiked down into the San Joaquin River Gorge. Sitting Hen Rock rose prominently on our left as we continued, and excellent views opened up to the southwest at the Piyau Dome complex. Before long, windows through the trees gave us better and better glimpses of Balloon Dome, appearing completely unclimbable by mere mortals from this vantage point. The Cassidy Trail continued it’s downard trajectory. The air got warmer and the vegetation changed from pine to oak forest as we descended from a start elevation of about 6800 feet to an eventual 4400 feet at the San Joaquin River. The trail was in pretty good shape, aside from a few fallen pine trees in the higher elevations, and a dusting of oak leaves at the lower elevations. It doesn’t seem to get much traffic. The very end of the trail before the river was the hardest to follow, as it goes through a narrow rock gap, and through a stagnant slimy red pond. I thought maybe we had lost the actual trail, but there didn’t seem to be any other way. Finally, we arrived at Cassidy Bridge and the San Joaquin River at about 2:30 PM, where we took an extended break. It was pretty warm out, so we dropped our gear and cooled our feet in the cold, swift river. It was only my second time ever hiking with backpacking stuff, and the other trip had been much more gradual in elevation gain. I could feel the toll being taken on my body now.

Original hopes of ascending the dome on this same day were dissolving as we spent more and more time hanging out at the river, and then scoped out another excellent campsite just south of the bridge, on the west side of the river. We decided to set up camp here, which would mean one HELL of day tomorrow, but it was getting later, and it looked like there was a possibility of rain. After establishing camp, we did another exploratory hike up the other side of the canyon, to see what was in store for us the next day. It was clear that this section of the trail gets VERY LITTLE traffic. Sections were overgrown with brush and poison oak, and there were more fallen trees. There was a little sign that said ”trail,” but beyond the introductory part it was tough to follow, when we reached the switchbacks above, the way was more obvious. The rainclouds threatened as we hiked up, hovering over the Mammoth area peaks to the north, but only followed through with a few droplets. After we had scouted the trail up to what we thought was almost the top of the canyon wall, we returned to camp for the evening, spotting a small snake on the way back. We spent the rest of the evening at camp, enjoying the river and dinner, and even a bite of the old Wild Turkey!

THURSDAY, JUNE 4: We arose at six or maybe even 5:30am, and were on the trail rather quickly today compared with yesterday! We left the backpacking gear at the river and went as light as we could. On the trail going up the canyon wall by 6:30am. We knew what to expect for the trail conditions from our scouting the previous afternoon. The trail was mostly visible, but covered in a carpet of oak leaves, which suggests minimal foot traffic. There were downed trees over the trail which caused some climbing and occasional confusion. Shortly after reaching the top of the gorge, we struck off trail into the woods, looking for a way to Balloon Dome. There were wide open granite slabs and dirt meadows that were incredibly easy to cross, as well as a few areas that had voluminous downed trees, where you would find one that was pointed in the way you wanted to go, and walk across it, like a bridge. All in all, it was easy cross country travel with no bushwhacking or nasty surprises. We pretty much went due southwest up Balloon Dome’s shoulder, and with some elevation gain, we got views out to the east, where there was a cool looking formation I nicknamed “Rattlesnake Butte.” We were now looking up at Balloon Dome, instead of across a gorge at it, which was definitely progress! Views opened up to the north of Junction Butte and the peaks of Mammoth beyond. It was after 9am by the time we reached the granite wall of Balloon Dome. We were on the south side of the thing by now, where the class three ascent was reputed to be. Of course, looking at the shape of this rock, there wasn’t any place OTHER than the south side where there could possibly be a class three ascent!

We established a base camp of sorts, and Axell and Zuma temporarily relaxed as Alex and I dropped our things and began the climb. Zuma just isn’t suited for class three climbing. Just as described by others, there was a convenient ledge that ran to the south side of the dome, and then we turned north for a steep ascent over the granite. I wish I could better describe the route we took, but what I can say is there is probably only one good way to do it. If you get to a part that looks harder than class three, keep looking, and you will eventually find the proper way. Generally, keep to the right (east) side as you ascend. You pass below this “creature” type rock, on your left, and then up this steep slab / chute thing. Then along a rock overhang thing, with more steepness, and big rocks to hang onto. The “key” to the summit, is in this case an actual “keyhole,” you unlock the path by crawling through the cave. After this you arrive at a little alcove, from which you exit to the right, which then puts you on a small ledge just on the edge of the east side cliff, then a small climb up, and you are on the comparatively flat top of the dome! A few hundred feet across the open granite at the top get you to the high point. We took a break here, and I took pictures in all directions (NE, N, NW, W [Piyau Dome], SW, S), and got a fantastic sight of the Granite Creek Waterfall where it plunges down into the San Joaquin Gorge. The view was stunning in all directions, as it was a clear day, and even though Balloon Dome doesn’t have a high elevation, it’s isolated and has nothing close by to obstruct the panorama.

Alex and I descended quickly, and were back to the boy and his dog by 10:45am. Alex volunteered to say down with Zuma, and I went back up the dome with Axell. I showed him the beginning of the route, and then let him go to try to find the rest of the way on his own, because I was feeling pretty worn out, and it was getting warm, and I didn’t feel I had it in me to make it to the top again, trying to conserve my energy. Axell said he didn't really care about making it to the top, but he wanted to give it a try. I waited in the shade of an overhanging rock for about a half hour, and then Axell came back. He said he hadn’t been able to find the route, and I felt guilty for not leading him to the top. But it was time to go, we had a very long day ahead of us still. Perhaps we’ll come back someday. Back down again, to Alex and Zuma, and we began the downhill crosscountry back to the trail. It was getting quite hot out now, and I personally was running pretty low on water. I hadn’t brought enough. But we trudged on, back over the granite and through the pines and down the overgrown trail. When we got to the river, I went straight to it and drank up as mouthfuls of the cold water!  The others did similarly. We were in kind of a bad position now, it being about 3pm or something, the hottest part of the day, and we had to hike all the way up the west side of the canyon, with our backpacking gear now. We all rested at the river for a bit, catching our breath, cooling off in the river. None of us were looking forward to the next step. But we shouldered the packs, took a picture together on the Cassidy Bridge, and headed up.

The hike that afternoon from Cassidy Bridge back to the McCreary Trailhead was one of the single most miserable outdoor experiences of my life thus far. Being as it was June and the canyon is only just over 4,000 feet in elevation, the temperature was not mild (I wish I could tell you what it was, it felt like the 80s). Also, I never hike with a 25 pound pack, and it added much more difficulty to my progress than I could have imagined. I had never before in my life considered lying down in the middle of the trail to pass out (or possibly die), so it was a new sensation! The beginning was the worst, the steepest, the hottest. We took frequent breaks. I’m pretty sure the others were having just as rough a time of it as me. They didn’t look happy. Even the indefatigable Zuma was dragging. Things got better toward the top of the canyon where the terrain leveled out, and the air began to cool off with the elevation and the approach of sunset. It looked like not only were we going to live, but even make it back to the van that night. At 7pm, I took one last look back at the granite claw of my dreams, Balloon Dome. The hike to reach it had kicked my ass left and right, but I regretted nothing. Even the most demanding of adventures seem fun in retrospect! Headlamps came out soon after, but were not badly needed, with a bright moon out. 8:30pm-ish we reached the Granite Creek Bridge, where we took an extended break. I was hungry, and I knew I needed nutrition, but I had been drinking so much water that food upset my stomach. Even though the rest of the hike was gentle topographically, the going was slow from the bridge, because we were all simply WRECKED from the day’s adventure. We continued silently now in the moonlight, too tired to talk. Up the dirt road, off onto McCreary Trail, utterly assaulted by the flying vampires at Miller Creek again, staggering through the woods in the final stretch to back to the trailhead. I think we got sight of the van at about 10:30 or 11pm, and it never looked so sweet. Unfortunately, a cloud of mosquitoes followed us into the van after we left the doors open for too long, and we were thrashing about wildly trying to kill them all as we drove down the dirt road on our way out. Down in Oakhurst, we raided the still open 7-11 store, for high calorie snacks and drinks. I personally was CRAVING sugar for some reason, and a giant Redbull did the trick, for sucrose and alterness for the driving. When I took out my wallet to pay, a cascade of granite pebbles spilled out onto the counter.

And that was it! Back to Jackson, Balloon dome had been accomplished, and I had never been so tired. Maybe I’ll try it as a day hike next time!

ALEX AND AXELL?
OK, so my younger brother is named Alexander, and when the youngest brother was born, we were tasked with giving him a middle name. We picked Axell, so he could have a cool rock ’n’ roll name if needed. The young one doesn’t use his first name anymore ever, because he doesn’t like it, and always goes by Axell. If we’d had any idea that we’d end up playing in a band together with him, and he would use his rock ’n’ roll middle name, we probably would have given him a middle name that was not so close to Alex’s first name.

ON PEAK NAMES
Balloon Dome: "Named by a professor who though it looked like a 'gigantic balloon struggling to get up through the rock.'" Okay. Fair enough. Whatever. As I said above, I think Balloon Dome is a pretty silly name for such a majestic monolith. I would have picked something like “Bear’s Tooth” maybe.
Sitting Hen Rock: Supposedly an official name, one trip report said there was a sign by the trail which identifies it, but I did not see this sign.
“Rattlesnake Butte” I nicknamed it due to it’s proximity to Rattlesnake Lake on the map.
”Owl Head Dome” The smaller dome just south of Balloon Dome. I saw a cartoonish owl face in the granite, and picked the nickname based on that. 

FURTHER READING
•Bob Burd: This is where I got most of my information about the hike and the climb. This is the only account I could find online or anywhere that describes the non technical climbing route.
•Splendor Source: A description of the hike down to the river, and lots of advice for beginner backpackers.
•Alpha Wanderlust: Description of part of the hike, and camping atop Sitting Hen Rock
•101 Hikes In Northern California: Matt Heid: Wilderness Press, 2000: pp 226-228: Description of the hike down to the river



Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Bald Rock Dome

 

DATE: Tuesday, May 5, 2020
DISTANCE: 8.93km / 5.55 miles
ELEVATION GAIN: 215m / 707ft.
ELEVATION LOSS: 341m / 1118ft.
TIME: 3:10
PLUMAS NATIONAL FOREST
BUTTE COUNTY, CA
SOUNDTRACK:
Exmortus: Night On Bald Mountain

SUMMITS:
Bald Rock Dome 1036m / 3400ft.
Little Bald Rock 1042m / 3420ft.
Bald Rock Area High Point: 1076m / 3530ft.


PHOTO ALBUM
MAP





 

...continued.

Bald Rock Dome is a striking granite batholith that towers over the Middle Fork Feather River canyon. It is a rather obscure dome, and most people that have seen it, probably did from the trail to Feather Falls. Fewer, from the "Bald Rock Dome Trail," which does not actually lead to Bald Rock Dome, but to a spot on the canyon floor (Curtain Falls) which presumably has a good view of it. Few people at all, it seems, make it to the top of the dome, or to the top of cliffs, as I did. I would soon find out why.

Still camping out in Berry Creek on some private property (most campgrounds in the state being closed at this point due to Covid-19), the day began with a visit to Milsap Bar, a recommendation from a local. At the bottom of a harrowing dirt road (45 mins.) lies Milsap Bar, where a bridge crosses the Feather River at the bottom of the canyon. Turns out the road down to it was considered a 4WD, but Amber's Chevy Van, with high clearance, made it with no problems. Milsap, officially closed as a campground, was deserted (one vehicle in parked, no humans seen) so we had a picnic and explored the area a bit. Two major tributaries of the Feather River join here, and it's quiet the wonderland of rushing mountain water.

This seems like a fine time to go off on my displeasure at lazy river naming in California, so here it comes: The two tributaries that that converge here on the Middle Fork Feather River are called "Little North Fork Feather River" and "South Branch Middle Fork Feather River." Come on! Was that the best you could do? I understand that the white man colonizers arrived in California and there were countless hundreds of rivers and streams to apply their white man names to, so they only named the big ones. But how can you even tell one from the other, with such a jumble of forks, branches, etc., all with basically the SAME NAME?

Food was eaten in haste, because when you sit still, the mosquitoes come. But then we were freed up to walk around, and we discovered the South Branch Middle Fork Feather River on the east side of the campground, which has excellent swimming holes. The water was so cold that it hurt, so I didn't stay in long. After I got home, some more research led me to learn that this side creek comes down from the legendary "Seven Falls," a destination I hope to check out soon, now that I know about it. After grinding the van back up the dirt road and out of the canyon, Amber wanted to go back to Oroville for supplies, and I had an unquenched thirst for hiking and exploring the area. So I had her drop me off at what I thought was a trail to the top of Bald Rock Dome. Cell phone service was adequate in the area, so a pickup could be arranged later.

There was a sign that said "to Bald Rock Dome Trail," at the intersection of Bald Rock Road and Bean Creek Road, but it turns out this was in reference to the aforementioned canyon trail to Curtain Falls. The path I followed, off of Bean Creek Road was not the "Bald Rock Trail" at all, it turns out, but according to my GPS, it looked like it would lead to the dome. I waved goodbye, and followed the dirt track around a bend, straight into a gate marked "private property." The road beyond was covered in undisturbed pine needles, I could tell it hadn't been used recently, and I carried on. Then road came to a T-intersection, and I turned right, following my GPS towards the dome. This road started out going south, then turned back east again. I was getting pretty close to the high point of the dome formation, but still deep in the trees, and suddenly I noticed a house. Even though the area seems ghostly abandoned, I was still a little paranoid, so I went off the south side of the road, into the bush, where there was a sign clearly stating "National Forest Boundary." At least here I couldn't be busted for trespassing. The "top" of Bald Rock Dome was due east of me, but that was not my destination, so I did mild bushwhacking to the south-east, towards the top of the exposed granite cliffs. As I got closer to them, a faint trail began to emerge, which I lost and found a few times.

Eventually I emerged from the manzanita thicket, and was staring over the edge of the granite precipice, overlooking the Middle Fork Feather River Canyon. I sat and absorbed the grandeur of it for several minutes. It was clear that this was a seldom visited place, with no official trail leading to it. I read somewhere that it was a meditation spot for the indigenous Maidu people. I could see about 180 degrees up and down the canyon, and there were some impressive cliffs across the river as well. I didn't stay for too long, because there was more on the menu for the afternoon's hike. I followed the faint trail that had finally gotten me to the cliffs, to see where it comes from, and luckily it became a real trail, but not heavily used. It led southwest, through the woods, all the way to Bean Creek Road. It was unmarked at the "trailhead," but this would be the trail to use to get to the dome if that's your goal. I couldn't tell if this area was on private land or not, but I think it's not. From here, I walked northwest, up the road, back to where I had been dropped off. Realizing by now that the area was a patchwork of private property easements, within or right at the edge of Plumas National Forest, I just said "fuck it" and started walking towards where I wanted to go.

Through the woods, to Bald Rock Area high point, which is 3,530 feet, but just a dirt patch surrounded by manzanita. Continuing west, I soon escaped the brush and got to easy cross country over open granite, to "Little Bald Rock," the final feature of the area that was on my agenda today. Similar to Big Bald Rock in nature, but apparently on private land. No trails or people visible. But not far in the distance, I heard the sound of heavy machinery working, and a plume of smoke rising from the trees. Some kind of "operation" on the land. I avoided whatever this was, and followed dirt tracks that led me back to Bald Rock Road. I was able to contact Amber via cell phone, and arranged to be picked on the road. To keep my self amused, I continued walking alongside the rural highway, Thankfully not too many cars whizzing by. I passed by the Big Bald Rock parking lot from two days ago, and kept going. It wasn't long after this that a familiar Chevy van came around the band, scooped me up, and took me back to camp for another night of drinking by the fire.

FURTHER READING
I couldn't find any report of anyone going to the area of Bald Rock Dome that I went to. All information on the internet leads to Official Bald Rock Dome Trail, which as I said above, leads down into the canyon, to Curtain Falls, and for a look up at Bald Rock Dome from below.



Sunday, May 3, 2020

Big Bald Rock

DATE: Sunday, May 3, 2020
DISTANCE: 2.4 km / 1.5 miles
ELEVATION GAIN: 109m / 358 ft.
TIME: 1:06
SUMMIT: Big Bald Rock: 998m / 3274 ft.
PLUMAS NATIONAL FOREST
BUTTE COUNTY, CA
SOUNDTRACK:
Rush: I Think I'm Going Bald


PHOTO ALBUM
MAP

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Bald Rock is part of a granitic pluton that, in a few places near Berry Creek, breaks through the dirt and pines, the most notable of these being Bald Rock Dome towering over the Feather River canyon. More on that HERE, if you can't wait.  Big Bald Rock is a pretty minor granite outcropping compared to other places in the Sierra Nevada, but a fun place to visit if you're in the area.

A Covid-19 pandemic, my job job dissolved, collecting unemployment, all the time in the world to go hiking and camping. The hiking has been flowing freely and generously, as you've seen in recent posts, but camping is a little harder to come by, as almost every campground in the state is closed. The solution? Know someone who owns a piece of land, and camp on that. And it was with this in mind that Amber picked me up in Oakland on Sunday morning, and hauled us to the unlikely location of Berry Creek, California, just up the hill from Oroville, where an old friend of hers not only owns lands with a house on it, but has also built, to my delight, an epic treehouse there, which I climbed later, of course. Having sussed out the area around Berry Creek beforehand, in anticipation of the trip, I knew that Big Bald Rock was just up the road from there, and would make a good, short, afternoon hike. 

So, after camp had been established in the field across from the house in Berry Creek, we were off to spend the late afternoon on Big Bald Rock, just a short distance up Bald Rock Road. The trail from the parking lot, through the trees, to the exposed granite area was just a few minutes walk, and though there were people around, they were dispersed, and social distancing was no problem. It had actually been awhile since I had feasted my senses on such a display of open granite, and I was mentally teleported back to my childhood days at Shealor Lake. I walked around the area, giving in the the compulsion to scramble. I got up to the high point of the dome with some gratuitous class three. I climbed a crack, saw a cool broken tablet looking thing, then up at the top, I found the benchmark, and frolicked amongst the boulders improbably stacked on top. Real high point is not the benchmark. There were fine views out into the Sacramento Valley, of the Sutter Buttes, and as far as (what I later determined to be) Bald Eagle Mountain in the east, and Pike County Peak in the south. My hopes of seeing Mount Lassen were not met. I could have stayed and played around for hours, but the end of the day was coming soon, stomachs were growling, and there was a longing for the enjoyments of camp. I bid farewell to the grand granite playground, and transitioned to the next adventure, the tree house. Then the next adventure, drinking lots of whiskey by the fire pit and somehow losing my favorite hat.

...to be continued. 

FURTHER READING
•Only In Your State: Description and good photographs
•Alltrails: Big Bald Rock Extended Loop
•Forest Service Page