Memorial Day Weekend

We were desperate to get outside for Memorial Day weekend. I had not gotten to see some of my closest friends for an extended period of time in months. In some ways the distance has made us closer than before -- whether over the phone, by email, or on someone's doorstep, I have found it easier to tell my friends that I love them. In all other ways, the physical distance makes it more difficult to share in the day to day of each other's lives. With other close friends I have drifted apart.

The puzzle was to figure out where to go, and how to do it within the growing patchwork of mis-matching inter-jurisdictional regulations. Alameda County still has its shelter in place order, but Mendocino National Forest was opening up, and had even allowed camping. We agreed we would travel separately by car, camp separately, not share equipment or food, and hike 6 feet apart. We would choose a remote, non-developed campsite that would probably not attract too many visitors.

T suggested Snow Mountain, and he drove the four hours north from his place the weekend prior in order to observe and share some beta with our friend group:

1) The campgrounds on Fouts Springs Road are definitely opening, as described in the order. Specifically, I confirmed that Mill Valley and Old Mill Campgrounds had campers.

2) I saw six cars at the trailhead, and met five groups, mostly just two people per group.  The largest group was four.

3) There was an 8-mile trail all the way to the top of Snow Mountain, although it was faint at some points. I made a GPS track on the way down so if you go I can lend that to y'all.

4) There is good camping at Deafy Glade on the hike up, the small pond 6200', and at the basin immediately below the summit.  There is marginal camping at several places between Deafy Glade and the pond.

5) The seasonal creeks are still flowing.

6) The creeks are sparkling, Deafy Glade is bucolic, and the views from the top are stellar.

7) Be ready for lots of climbing.

In the end, no one could resist the sparkling creeks and the bucolic glade, and then more, later: T's descriptions continued by phone of patches of snow, the lupine and lilies, and so many other wildflowers that he could not remember all of their names. Everyone in the group eventually found a way to join.

Our car left in the late afternoon, after work, and we climbed into the coastal range at dusk. Rusty from lack of recent practice, J and I fumbled with our headlamps. We had taken our housemate B with us, and now we led her, in the dark, to a creek crossing. The 'sparking creek' must have seemed tame enough during the day, but at night it sounded like a roaring thrash of cold snow runoff. From the bank we could not make out where the trail connected on the other side.

But B was game and patient while we scoped out the crossing; we removed our socks, rolled up our pants, and we cautiously waded across facing the current up river. When we had crossed it was only a half mile more to Deafy Glade, where would meet our friends for a roaring campfire and pretend like nothing at all was wrong in the world.