Yolla Bolly Wilderness Rpt. - Very Long

“Yolla Bolly Wilderness

I finally ventured back to the Mendocino National Forest again for my 2nd annual trip into the Yolla Bolly Wilderness. For those unfamiliar with the Yolla Bolly Wilderness, it is comprised of 147,070 acres of rugged peaks, deep valleys and is home to the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Eel River. This is the place for solitude for those seeking it as I came across nobody after the first mile from the trailhead and it was over the Memorial Day weekend.

I had originally planned to leave the Bay Area on Thursday but a variety of problems hindered my departure until Sunday morning. At least, I was able to avoid the mad rush of weekend vacationers on their pilgrimage to the Sierras. The drive was perfect with out any congestion.

For this year's hike, I decided on the Ides Cove National Recreational Trail and split off from that to make a multiple night backpacking experience of approximately 25 to 30 miles. I arrived at the Ides Cove Backpackers Trailhead at 3:00 pm Sunday. A few pickups were scattered about and group of young guys hanging out yucking it up over a few beers. A few picnic tables are present there but the wind was blowing a tad too much so I decided to drop down to the horse packers trailhead and make camp for the night. The horse packer camp is much nicer. Less wind, more firewood, and only two sites. A couple of corrals are present and stumps convenietely placed around the campfire ring. The other campsite was in use by a group of RV'ers up for the weekend. I parked, started a fire, and studied my maps. I brought along may fly rod to fish the lakes along the way but learned from the RV'ers that fishing wasn't all that terriffic so I ditched the rod and some other gear. As night came, the temperature dropped to close to freezing at that altitued of 7000 feet or so. Asleep by 11:00 pm.

I awoke at 6:00 am and was on the trail by 7:00 am. First I drove back up to the backpackers trailhead, parked, and signed the trailhead register. I noticed that nobody ventured further along the trail than Long Lake only a few miles in. I was once again going to be the first person to break trail along this route this year. I should of realized it would be a chore.

Unlike like years hike, I came prepared. A couple of forest service maps, some topos off the internet and a crackerjack compass. I wasn't about to get lost this time. Unfortunately, trailheads always throw me for a loop and I quickly started hiking the wrong way on the South Yolla Bolly Trail. After a half hour I realized my mistake and back tracked to the trailhead and began the Ides Cove Trail.

The Ides Cove Trail is probably the most hiked trail in the Yolla Bolly Wilderness. That doesn't mean it's crowded, just most hiked. The Ides Cove Trail is fairly well established. An easily followed footpath and basically level as it winds around the South Yolla Bolly Mountains/Mt. Linn. A bit muddy in places from the snow melt with a few minor creek crossing. Snow was present in some locations beside the trail and added to the beauty of the area. To the north, I could see Mt. Shasta floating in the sky with its glacier laden slopes.

After about 30 minutes I came to the Square Lake spur trail and went to see what the lake looked like. A crystal clear lake of approximately 1 acre nestled in a cirque below of Mt. Linn. I spotted a couple small trout swimming along the shore just waiting for a tasty bug to drop onto the water's surface. A few tents were scattered about tree line surrounding the lake but nobody was was moving about at this hour of the morning.

I must admit that I was feeling pretty lousy this morning from 12 too many beers the night before. My hiking was not the most enjoyable experience so early on this morning but I continued on with thoughts of stopping at Long Lake for the day. When I arrived at Long Lake at 9:00 am I pulled out my thermarest, downed a few advil, and took a short nap. The one hour nap rejuvinated me and off I went again with intentions of hiking till exhaustion or dusk, which ever came first. The sun started warming the air nicely as the forecast predicted.

I followed a single set of footprints westward, marching across snow that has not yet melted. The prints appeared to be a few days/weeks old as they were misshapened in the snow. At the western edge of Mt. Linn is terrific vista allowing views of my intended route. An old weathered and bleached wooden trail sign is mounted on a tree here indicating a couple trails to take. I continued west along D-Camp Trail. From this point onward the trail would be of more diffultly. The footprints I was following vanished and I started coming across blowdowns and vanishing trail altogether. I had to rely on my maps, and keep an eye out for blazes on trees. Now the blazes are quite old. They are known as candle and flame blazes which basically are a vertical hatchet swipe in the tree bark with a small square notched above it. Many of these blazes are almost indescernable as they were made during the original construction of the trail in the 1930's and 1940's. On barren ridge tops the trail may be comletely gone and use of ducks or cairns are used. Just keep a good eye open for these as they might only be six inches high and more likely knocked over. And if neither of these trail indicators are present just follow the deer tracks. They seem to know the right way.

The D-Camp trail made this hike more interesting as I had to keep aware of my location. The trail gradually descends down a ridge to Harvey Peak(7351 feet) but never directly on top of the ridge. The trail was always about 40 feet below from the top. I soon came to another trail juction. This time it was another bleached wooden sign mounted on a log laying just off the trail. This is the turn off to complete the nine mile Ides Cove Loop. I passed by and headed for Harvey Peak. I assumed the trail would summit the peak but I past it before I realized. Soon I came across a small circular pit adjacent to the trail with nice clear water flowing from it. I was finally at D-Camp. I filled up on water and spotted another sign indicating this was indeed D-Camp but I didn't see any suitable campites from my location. I didn't stay to explore the area as I wanted to get deeper into the wilderness. The trail begins climbing now and soon I was atop another ridge with more fantastic views and a extreme drop off to the north below. Some more climbing to the junction of the Kingsley Lake Trail. To the south is Solomon Peak (7584 feet) which is much more impressive but not as high as Mt. Linn (8092 feet). Maybe next year I'll head that direction.

Another short but steep climb to Sugarloaf Mountain (7367 feet) and then north on the Summit Trail. The Summit Trail follows the dividing line between the Corning and Covelo Ranger Districts. A nice high trail along the ridgeline and through the forest. More debris is scattered about with broken twigs, branches, pinecones, and the occassional tree laying on the trail but still easily navigable. To the west is Hopkins Hollow but it didn't seem nearly as impressive as the unnamed hallow to the east. Passed by un-impressive Vinegar Peak and began thinking about a campsite for the evening. I checked the map for a water source and didn't see any along the trail. The closest was at a place called the Frying Pan only about a half mile off trail and down a few hundred feet.

Lucky for me I read the Hiker's Hip Pocket Guide to the Mendocino Highlands just the day before at R.E.I. I remembered some information about Frying Pan being the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Eel River. It is a beautiful location. It's quite awe inspiring to come across a place such as Frying Pan after hiking in deep forest and non-vegetated ridges. As I descended, I was welcomed by the greenest meadow I've ever seen. Birds flitted about and a steep, ragged cliff is the backdrop to the slendor of which is Frying Pan. Snow was still present in the shadow the of the cliff. As I walked into the meadow, my feet began to sink into the saturated meadow. I backed off and hiked around the perimeter. Under the cliff is a camp located within the trees with a large stone fire pit and a chair made of branches. Some rusted cans littered the campsite. I came to another campsite on a little knoll above the meadow. This one I chose to stay at. It had a stone fire pit, a yellow nylon rope strung across the camp between two pines and fire wood already piled up. I found the stream outlet from the meadow nearby and began setting up camp.

Everything was going great. I finished dinner, cleaned up, had a nice roaring fire going. The sun had already set and I was gazing through the shimmering waves of heat radiating of the fire when I spotted a big black silouette moving towards me 50 yards away. I thought I was seeing things but sure enough it was my friend the black bear. I stood up and saw that the bear wasn't even looking towards me. It had it's nose to the ground and was following a scent. I grabbed my photon light and pointed it at the bear but it did nothing. The bear continued ambling along towards me. I quickly let out a yell of "Hey Bear!" That did the trick. The bear stopped in it's tracks and looked up, stunned. I guess it hasn't seen a person in some time. It stared at me trying to comprehend what the hell I was. I started yelling some more and flashing my little trusty photon off and on and the bear quickly turned and ran back a few yards only to stop again and look back at me. This time I grabbed a couple rocks and began walking towards it. I heaved the rocks toward the bear but missing it and hitting the trees nearby. With loud thud against a tree trunk the bear quickly ran off through the forest. Needless to say, I kept the fire going all night and didn't get much sleep. I hung my food bag on the nylon cord and positioned it directly above the fire pit. If that bear wanted my food it would have to risk standing in the fire.

The next morning I awoke at 8:00 am to a Mountain Chickadee only inches from head. These little birds are quite friendly as they kept visiting me on my hike. The night before, one landed on the rock next to me accompanying me during my dinner. Those little trusting guys are pretty cool. I studied the maps and realized I had made pretty good distance yesterday and figured I could do the same today. I made a decision to make it to a place called Thunder Camp for the night on the South Fork of Cottonwood Creek Trail. I set off back up the trail to Summit Trail and continued north. Lost in thought, I passed the Knob (6486 feet) and accidentally passed by the trail junction with Lazyman Butte Trail. I backtracked till I found the weathered sign laying on the ground. The Lazyman Butte Trail starts fine gradient wise but the condition of it steadily worsens. It passes over scree slopes, trees lay across the trail that had to climbed over or usually scrambled around on steep slopes. The temperature was getting into the 80's and much of the trail was in direct sunlight. I was going through my two liters of water rather quickly and then the trail ascended Lazyman Butte (7000+ feet) along switchbacks. At the top I was tuckered out. I scrambled up to the top of the butte to have lunch and rest. The view was impressive. Tiger swallow-tails fluttered by and couple hummingbirds hovered feet away checking me out.

My intentions are usually to have an hour lunch but after eating a couple Clif bars and looking over the maps, I'm raring to go. Must see what lies around the next bend. A few more miles of blowdowns and I was at Lazyman Camp. Now this is another great place to make camp. Another nice meadow full of iris's and other green succulent plants. Unfortunately, the iris's had already bloomed by this time, I think. I only spotted a couple of wilted blooms. A small, shallow spring feeding the meadow. If it wasn't so early (2:00 pm) I would of stayed there. Huge cedar and sugar pine towered over the flat. A few signs of previous campers were present. A grill and a small collection of tin cans nestled in the hollow of one of the cedars. A few aged Budweiser cans littered the area. The kind with pull tabs so you know they go back quite a few years.

From the Butte it is all down hill. A long way down hill. My map only indicated about 15 switchbacks but it's more like 50 long looping switchbacks down to the South Fork of Cottonwood Creek. The descent was getting to me, the increasing heat was getting to me, and lack of water was getting to me. My feet were roasting and I could feel my toenails beginning to separate from the toes. I was getting hotspots and just plain cranky. There was nothing to do but keep going down and hopefully reach Sulphur Spring to refill and rest a bit.

As I descended, I noticed a couple of metal signs mounted on the trees. As I looked over them, I could barely make out the names of the trail crew that built this trail and the date of 1936. Another sign indicated another crew came through in Oct. of 1967. That would appear right for trail maintenance as is the current condition of the trail. This is by far the most obscure "established" trail I had ever hiked in all of North America, including Alaska and the Yukon. Man, it was fun.

As the trail descended, oak trees and manzanita began appearing, edging out the pine and cedar. Sulphur Spring presented itself at a much needed time but like the name implies it is thick with that sulphur smell. I could only handle a swallow before pouring it out. Luckily the South Fork of Cottonwood Creek was only about a 1/4 mile below. At the junction of the Lazyman Butte Trail and South Fork of Cottonwood trail is a place called Hawk Camp (2700 feet) on the creeks bank. I decided to make camp for the night there but when I got there I realized the creek was too noisy and camping was less than ideal. I filled up on water and continued on hoping to make Prine Cabin. A few springs and creek drainages were along the trail. At one of the creeks was disturbingly sickening smell of decaying flesh. Part of me wanted to find the carcass but my better half thought BEAR! My mind kept thinking it was a human body. I was deep in the canyon now and the sun didn't reach down here. Amoung the oaks it felt like dusk but it was only about 6:00 pm. I was starting to freak myself out and the oaks kept getting thicker and thicker. I could hear the snapping of twigs off in the forest. I finally came to a gully flowing with water and of which where Prine Cabin was to be. The gulley was too steep for a cabin so I surmised it was on the map only for historical reasons. On I went.

I remember walking through the darkening forest of oaks on the almost non-existant trail. Fallen oak leaves littered the area blanketing all signs of trail. Blazes and cairns were absent with just a few sings of deer tracks through the leaves is all I had to guide me. I came to an area with small pine trees growing. By small, I mean 15 to 20 feet. And through the trees I thought I caught glimpse of a structure through the trees. I wondered if this was Prine Cabin but in my current state of mind that was the last place I wanted check out. It would mean walking through pines, through large dark oaks and over blowdowns. Everything seemed spooky then. Kind of like Blair Witch spooky!

Usually I can calm myself down but I felt trapped. All of yesterday and most of today I was high atop ridges with large vistas but now I was confined amid a darkening forest with very limited views. I felt boxed in and isolated. I decided then I was going to hike to next open area and make camp for the night, regardless if I found water or not. Well, at 8:30 pm I came to Slide Creek. After an unbelievable steep but short descent I was in a suitable open area. I waded across the knee high creek, dropped my pack, and went to sleep.

I was up at 6:30 am. I slept through the night with out waking. This camp is at the lowest elevation of my route (2200 feet) and today I had to climb back up to the trailhead. A climb of about 4000+ feet. I gobbled down a couple pop-tarts even though I wasn't hungry. Heck, all of yesterday I only ate two pop-tarts and two Clif bars. I knew my energy level was going to be low today but I didn't realize how low it would get.

Right off the bat, I had to climb out of the creek gulley a few hundred feet. The trail was obliterated with intersecting game trails. All of which look promising to me. Some how I managed to stay the right. Manzanita was the prominent brush of the early morning hike. The east facing slope was in the sun and the heat gradually rising. I decided to drink liberally as a spring was a few miles ahead. I entered into the oaks again but this time that paranoid feeling was absent. The understory was a golden glow of warm light. I even came across a large deer that bounded off the trail away from me.

I finally came to a grassy area indicating the much anticipated spring's location. I walked out into the middle of grass and sat down to finish my remaining liter of water before filling up again. Just as I sat, I heard a noise and quickly turned around to see a bear emerging from the spring and crashing through the forest. Man, those things can move when they want to. I listened to snapping branches for a good minute as it made a hasty retreat. Well, now I knew where the spring was. I headed over to it only to discover that it was clouded with suspended silt. The damn bear was wallowing in it. It was undrinkable. I checked the maps again only to discover this was the last source of water till I reached the Ides Cove Trail a couple thousand feet above. This was going to be a rougher day than anticipated. I only had a liter of water to make the ascent. Instead of feeling sorry for myself and pouting, I hit the trail with gusto. I was moving fast up switchbacks stopping occassionally to look back at the view that was unfolding behind me. Through a gap I could see the upper Sacramento Valley and Mt. Shasta once again. The oaks gave way to pine and cedar and the sun was shining bright and hot. Unbelievably, I came across an unmapped stagnant spring. The water had a slight sulphur smell but it would have to do. I tanked up. Bad mistake, as within an half hour I was feeling foul. Feeling like I needed to vomit and hiking about 1 mph with rest breaks each hundred yards.

Finally I gave up. I was going to hunker down for the day. I found a nice outcrop and plopped my ass down. I gave myself a peptalk and decided I needed eat some real food. I cooked up some pasta alfredo and kept drinking the foul water. I realized I was only about three miles from the trailhead and could surely make that no matter how bad I felt and all the delicious water I could drink was up there. I set off once again after a 30 minute break. Luckily, the trail didn't seem so bad any longer. As I gained altitude the trail began showing signs of maintainance. Blowdowns were sawed and removed. I started noticing horse prints and trickling flows of water crossing the trail. Stunted fir trees began growing along the trail. Everything was groovy.

I hooked back up with the Ides Cove Trail and followed it east back to the trailhead and to my awaiting truck. I arrived back at 2:30 pm to an empty parking area. On Monday, there were seven vehicles parked there. Now there were none.

Well, that's the end of the hike but not the end of the trip. My first night at the horse packer camp I learned from the RV'ers that the road out of Paskeenta was going to be closed for the remainder of the week. I had my doubts if this was true so I headed back down to the Cold Springs Ranger Station to find out. Well, the station was still closed this early in the season so I decided to risk driving back the 35 miles of dirt road to see if I could get out. Wouldn't you know it! Sure enough it was closed. A logging company closed the access road to repave it. I had to find the quickest and shortest alternate route out of here as I was low on gas. I studied the forest service map and decided on a route that would take me over three hours to get to Red Bluff. I arrived in town at 6:00 pm. Stopped at Pizza Hut and tried to down a pitcher of Bud. Unbelivably, I couldn't stomach the beer.

Oh yeah, baby! You can bet on me going back again. Superb hiking and those hikes which are problematic are the most memorable hikes for me.”

“Wow....the term epic can mean lot's of things, not just life threatning....you had an epic!

At least you gotta good attitiude about it, and your trip report was great......May all your future trips be downhill, the wind always at your back and your pack free of mice (and bears).”

“That was some hike! Take any pics?”

“Of course, I took pics silly! They won't be developed for about a week though. I'll post them on my website.”

“Sounds like an exciting, great trip. I've checked your website and all your stuff is very detailed and interesting, fun to read!

So what camera are you toting around? Do you take a tripod? And (in the last of my Andy Rooney type questions) how'd you come up with the name Pantscandy??? (seems you were Trout in earlier day!!)”

“Lizs,
Glad you like the webpage although I'm currently working on a new design. No, I don't carry a tripod. Are you nuts? I just use a little Kodak APS point and shoot, hold my breath and gently snap a picture off. I've had really bad luck with SLR cameras. Keep dropping them or dunking them in water. With a p-n-s I don't fret much about protecting it.
As for the moniker. I was on college geology mapping trip and we heard Howard Stern talking about giving Pantscandy out to the kids during Halloween. I was the only person who thought it was funny so the name stuck. Trout was my AT name. I started with three fishing poles and was going to fish my way along the AT. Sent the poles back on the third day. Thought about using Pantscandy on the AT but being from Calif. I didn't think it would go over very good in the God-fearing south.”

“I have put up some pics of my hike in Yolla Bolly. You can see them at

...hope that works.”

“nice pics, did you have that report posted on here before without the pics?”

“Awesome report and pics! I need to get out of this desert to places that have huge mountains and snow into the summer. You make me jealous.”

“Great report Bill! Beautiful place! That'll be on my list of places to go for sure.

How scary not to find water when you really need it. And to have to drink that sulfer water. Yuk! I felt for you when reading it.

How close were you to that bear? He's a beauty!

That was pretty smart hanging your food over the fire. Thanks for sharing!”