BLM Dispatch #15 - South Yuba River, California
I had been reading harrowing and adventurous stories about the 65-mile South Yuba River in Northern California for a decade before I finally paid it a visit. There are drownings almost every year, brought on by swift currents and underwater boulders. There are nude beaches, a twenty-mile National Trail, and enough picturesque swimming holes to keep the residents of Nevada City and Auburn cool in summer, when triple-digit temperatures bake the western Sierra slopes.
The river introduced itself the moment I opened the car door. Water thundered through the granite-walled canyon at 2,000 cubic feet per second. A deafening roar. Imagine 900,000 gallon jugs of liquid crashing past every minute.
Walking the trail in early April was like walking through a green tunnel. Madrone, interior oak, toyon, fern, and foothill pine draped over the narrow path, causing a kind of bobbing and weaving walking experience. Moss clung to big leaf maple trunks. Small waterfalls stemming from unnamed tributaries cascaded over boulders and fallen branches. And everywhere smelled like wet granite and pine needles.
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