Active NorCal Jan/Feb 2014

Northern California’s Sport, Fitness and Outdoor Magazine

January/February 2014 - Issue 1

10 Questions

with Mike Mangas The Secret to Spin Class The Haunted Caribou Wilderness

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Winter Wonderland

Mountain Destinations Wild!

About Hiking

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contents

January/February 2014 Features 16 Mike Mangas Longtime NorCal resident and KRCR Sports Anchor Mike Mangas gives us insight into the sports of the North Valley and how he stays active in his spare time.

18 Hiking The next time someone tells you to take a hike, it’s nice to know (if they meant it literally) that NorCal has some terrific options.

24 Cover Story: Mountain Preview Are you ready for an adventure on the mountain? Let’s take a look at five of the closest mountains to take your family or find a thrill.

Departments 2

Publisher’s Note

4

Just for Fun

8

College Sports

12

NorCal Pro

14

Youth Sports

pg.4

15 Nutrition

pg.15

32 Product Spotlight Gearing up for the winter? Active NorCal teamed up with Sports LTD to spotlight some of the year’s best winter clothing.

pg.46

44 Fitness

34 The Haunted Caribou The Caribou Wilderness near Lassen Peak can leave even the most experienced outdoorsman frightened in their boots.

42 Health

46

pg.32

Late Night

48 Fishing

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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Publisher’s Note Hello NorCal Friends, Welcome Northern California’s first and only magazine about the active lifestyle we hold dear to our hearts.

At Active NorCal, we bring you stories that bring the community together through our passions and hobbies.

Growing up in Redding, California, I always considered myself lucky to have such a diverse selection of activities at my disposal every day. As a youth, I was heavily into sports and followed my father, a fly fishing guide, on excursions through the wilderness. I loved it all.

I left home a few months after my 18th birthday to attend Chico State and eventually started my career in the business world. Eight years later I returned to Northern California and fell in love for a second time. I was constantly asking myself “Why do I love it so much?” Leaving downtown Redding one day heading east on I-44, I noticed Lassen Peak to my right and Mt. Shasta to my left while driving over the sparkling Sacramento River. Then it hit me… This is why I love Northern California.

I know that many of the people I’ve met in Northern California share the same passion for our community as I do, so I set out to create a magazine that will connect the dots—a magazine that will bring people together through our active lifestyle and passions.

Active NorCal will be more than a magazine. Through a strong online presence we will bring activities to the community that support healthy lifestyles. We will be involved with local non-profit organizations that help sustain positive lifestyles in our community. From Chico to Mt. Shasta City, we will tell the inspiring stories of active people working and playing hard while enjoying life.

Alas, we must crawl before we can run… Or sprint. So read our magazine.

Share it with your friends. Help us tell these great stories.

Stay Active!

Zach O’Brien

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

Publisher Zach O’Brien Sales Manager Kevin Reinhart Editor Chip O’Brien Art Director Adrienne Rosone Contributing Writers Mike Wagner Steven A. Marcuz Sue Vanderwerf Jameson Jura Active NorCal is published bimonthly by Active NorCal, 1350 Placer Street, Redding, CA, 96001, (530) 247-7330, Copyright 2013.

All rights reserved.

“Finally a place to find everything I want to know about the things I love to do in NorCal” Active NorCal - The New Magazine for Northern California

NORCAL Northern California’s Sport, Fitness and Outdoor Magazine

Subscribe Today - www.ActiveNorCal.net (If you subscribe in the next 60 days you get the first year free)

Just for fun

Pickleball Growing in Popularity An inexpensive way to stay in shape

By Sue Vanderwerf

If you are looking for a reason to get up in the morning…look no further. Pickleball is taking the Redding area by storm, growing from a group of 22 one year ago, to 66 people in late fall 2013.

The hospitality has stayed the same show up and play if you want to.

What is pickleball? It’s the sound of “hello!” in the morning when you arrive, the crack of whiffle balls hitting the court, and a background of laughter…lots of laughter. The game is a combination of tennis, ping pong, and even racquetball.

It is an inexpensive sport to play… you wear comfortable clothes, tennis

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

shoes, and sometimes sunglasses. Your clothes and shoes can be new or old, colorful or not. The actual equipment is a paddle, whiffle balls, a court, net, and other people who want to have fun and get some exercise. The paddle is solid and looks like the kind you use in ping-pong but a bit larger. The balls are larger than tennis balls and plastic with holes in them. A pickleball court is the same size as a doubles badminton court. Just lower the net to 3 feet (34 inches at the center) and you are ready to go.

Play is scheduled 8-10 a.m. in the warm weather, 9-11 a.m. in the colder part

of the year, Monday through Saturday, at the Enterprise Park (in the enclosed area above Kids Kingdom on Victor Avenue).

The nice thing about the Redding pickleball group is there are no fees...it is not a club, just a bunch of people who show up and want the camaraderie and the joy of playing the game. You don’t need to buy your own balls – there are buckets of balls by the nets. There are a few “group” paddles available for those who want to try out the game and learn the basics before they get their own paddle. In the morning there may be three to six courts full, at four people each.

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Take it from someone who is NOT athletic and never did sports in school...

ANYONE can play the game and enjoy it.

It’s not such a difficult, demanding sport that it prevents a person from playing.

The game involves serving the ball and then returning the ball once it is hit to you or your partner so it involves some running and some arm work when you hit the ball. You can play a mellow game or play with the utmost vim and vigor.

I’ll admit that many of the players are retirees. This is solely because they have the time to play. The number of young people playing increases when school isn’t in session or it’s the weekend. Some of the players are in tip-top shape and most are not. There are players with knee and hip replacements. Surgical scars are common.

A young man played recently who had a prosthetic leg and he is an excellent pickleball player. The third place team at the group’s first tournament included a ten-year-old.

There is a pickleball player who generously shows up every day to set up the nets and put out the buckets of balls.

There are numerous experienced pickleball players who don’t mind taking the time to teach the “newbies” who wander onto the courts to try out the game. There are the everyday players who make welcome suggestions on better ways to serve or hold the racket. There is a teacher/

coach who usually can only play on Saturdays but who often brings fresh zucchini muffins. People who have gardens have been known to share boxes of produce or fruit. Everyone shares good sportsmanship and friendship on and off the courts.

It has become popular across the U.S.,

Research shows that Northern Californians rank their sports and outdoor activities at the top of the reasons they love the north state.

Reach your customers where they love to be—Active NorCal—the NEW Magazine for Northern California For information on advertising call 530-247-7330 or go to www.ActiveNorCal.net

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

with a USA Pickleball Association, which has a website you can check for places, days, and times to play (www.usapa.org) and you can even view videos of the game or instructions on how to play. Each location listed also includes contact informa-

where a traveling soul hails from. They do this because they love the game. The added benefit is the exercise. You run around the courts for a couple of hours... (picture tennis matches you have seen but add some laughter). The players rotate to

The index of places to play JUST in California on the national website lists 120 locations. You can play from Pismo Beach to Grass Valley, in Napa, or South Lake Tahoe. In Northern California, you can catch a Pickleball match in Chico, Eureka, Mt. Shasta, Redding, and Weaverville. tion. There is a World Pickleball Organization as well. Many schools are teaching pickleball now so it may grow like the sport of soccer.

People traveling through Redding who are pickleball players check the national website and find where they can play as they head along the highway. We have players stop in for a day or two from southern California, or Idaho, or any-

different courts depending on who wants to play the next game. Sometimes a player or two will sit out and “nurse” an old knee injury or a sore shoulder or to hydrate with some water before going back on the courts. Parking is plentiful and there is a nicely maintained city bathroom nearby.

The courts are enclosed so that missed ball doesn’t go very far. Some of the players bicycle to the park to play.

The index of places to play JUST in California on the national website lists 120 locations. You can play from Pismo Beach to Grass Valley, in Napa, or South Lake Tahoe. In Northern California, you can catch a Pickleball match in Chico, Eureka, Mt. Shasta, Redding, and Weaverville. There is a group who play in Cottonwood, and they often come to play with the Enterprise Park (Redding) group.

The Redding group hosted its first tournament on Saturday, October 12. The weather was beautiful and 28 people, male and female, tall and short, young and mature, participated. The prizes were a jar of pickles with a picture of a pickleball. The best prize of all – the group of smiling, enthusiastic people who spent a couple of hours together chasing a small, yellow, plastic ball with holes in it.

The sport of pickleball is named for a dog, Pickles, who couldn’t resist running off with the ball and hiding it. Thank you to the young men in Washington and their dog, Pickles, for inventing this game.

NORCAL

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7

college sports

The Growth of The Red Hawks Simpson University Men’s Basketball

By Staff writer

Boise State It’s November 21, 2013 and the Simpson University men’s basketball team sits in the visitor’s locker room of the Taco Bell Arena in Boise, Idaho. Outside the locker room and through the tunnel sits 5,339 Boise State fans ready to support their team.

For the Boise State Broncos, this is a typical encounter for a highly-touted Division 1 athletic program. It’s a common occurrence for them to enter big arenas with thousands of rabid fans. But for the Simpson University Red Hawks, it’s a special night.

“It’s something that most of us will never experience again,” said Simpson junior forward Anthony Williams, who had eight points and four rebounds in the game. “To play in front of that many people is something I will never forget.”

Though the final scoreboard was not generous to the Red Hawks as they lost 110-53, the game was more about coming together as a team. It was one of the rare times you’ll hear a losing team gush over a game. After all, the Broncos started their Division 1 schedule 8-0 before falling to the 11th ranked team in the country, the much-hyped Kentucky Wildcats.

“The Boise State game was great,” said Red Hawks’ head coach Jim Holcomb.

“We went out there and ran our [plays] against a really good team. We did some good things on the court and I think it will give us experience and confidence when we head into our league schedule.

Games are the best practice.”

Guard Marc Kirkland echoed the sentiment of certain moral victories during the

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

Boise State game, simply stating with a smile “They didn’t get a dunk.”

Chico State Now it’s November 23, 2013 on Simpson University campus when the Red Hawks took the court against another tough early season matchup, Chico State; another game that resulted in a loss. And again, lessons were learned in the process.

Against a much bigger, athletic Chico team, the Red Hawks stood tall in the first half with tough defense and precise offensive execution. Chico eventually made a run at the end of the first half before extending the lead in the second to a 7047 victory.

“We know Chico will bring a lot of pressure,” said coach Holcomb before the game. He was right, as Chico State came out in the second half and forced the Red Hawks into 22 turnovers and limited them to 28 percent field goal percentage, including 0 percent on three-point shots.

Again, there were some moral victories for the Red Hawks. Williams had 15 points and Ian Corella had eight points against Chico’s big frontline .

The Team While early in the season the wins weren’t piling up for the Red Hawks. They looked at the games as a way to come together as a cohesive unit. Many of the players were new to the team, transferring from other schools to go to Simpson and play for coach Holcomb.

Shaquille Jones, the feisty guard from Oakland transferred to Simpson from The College of the Redwoods where he’d won

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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First-Team All Defense honors. Now coach Holcomb is especially critical of Jones, with whom he looks to lead the intensity on defense. During a practice in November Jones missed a defensive assignment during a three-on-three drill. Coach Holcomb used him as an example blasting him in front of the team and making him sit out the rest of the practice. Good team defense must start with your best defensive players.

There is also Jonnie Washburn, three-point marksmen and recent transfer from Seattle-Pacific University. Washburn came to Simpson to study Youth Ministry and play basketball in a Christian environment.

To the team, he serves as an example of work ethic staying well after practice to work on his shooting, even after he made what seemed like every shot that day during practice.

The longest tenured Red Hawk is team big man Corella who is entering his third year with the team.

During the 2011-2012 season, Corella was named California Pacific Conference Freshman of the year for his outstanding play in the conference. Now, the 6’7” forward from Mira Loma, California is the cog in the team’s “inside-out” game, where they attempt to post up Corella to open up scoring opportunities for their guards.

Then there is point-guard and de facto team leader Dalton Thacker, who provides leadership and intensity during games and practice. Thacker earned Cal Pac Freshman of the Year and First Team All-Cal Pac honors last season. He may not fill up the box score, but any educated onlooker can see that Thacker is the engine that makes the Red Hawks go, and his passion for the game is infectious.

Coming Home Party For Williams, who is an Enterprise High School graduate, returning to Redding and playing basketball at Simpson was a no-brainer. He left after his senior year in high school to pursue a collegiate track career at Sacramento State. Last season at Sacramento State he finished fifth in the 110-hurdles and the high-jump at the Big Sky Championships. Now he brings that raw athleticism back to the basketball court, a task that is both difficult and exciting.

“Now I have a better appreciation for the game since I was away from it while doing track at Sacramento State,” said Williams. “But I still need time to get my basketball senses back. I’m trying not to be timid. I want to be a fluid player.”

Top: Junior guard Anthony Williams looks to the bench for instructions during the game against Chico State.

Bottom: Head Coach Jim Holcomb emphasizes defense in a recent practice by showing his players a proper defensive stance.

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

Williams is excited to be back home in Redding since he gets to see his family at his home games, something he missed at Sacramento State. He admits it can be near impossible to try and muster up free tickets to home games for all his friends and family.

Another Red Hawk homecoming story is coach Holcomb, who holds a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree, along with a teaching credential from Simpson University. He was an assistant coach for the Red Hawks from 1999-2003 before he went on to be the head coach at Anderson High School for five years and an assistant coach at Shasta College for five years.

He took over as the head coach for the Red Hawks in the offseason and also took on the role of assistant athletic director.

Holcomb’s love for the game of basketball is evident as he is not shy to smile when talking about the game or his team. When asked who inspires him as a coach, with no delay he divvies out a long list of today’s top college coaches: Mike Krzyzewski (Duke), Jim Boeheim (Syracuse), Tom Izzo (Michigan State) and Roy Williams (North Carolina).

“I also like Bobby Knight,” Holcomb adds. “Minus the mouth.”

Light at the End of the Tunnel The Simpson Red Hawks men’s basketball team knows they have an uphill climb ahead of them. A new coach leading, for the most part, a new team is a math problem that adds up to growing pains.

Early season losses are acceptable as long as the team can find its potential when they enter their Cal Pac schedule.

“It’s been a slow start and nobody likes to lose,” Williams admits. “We just have to keep hoping things start to click. We are trying to find our identity. We just have to keep the faith.”

Coach Holcomb recognizes two team goals. “First, we need to mature as a team,” said Holcomb. “If we work on our game defensively and never get outworked, then we can make a run at winning the Cal Pac Conference.”

Finding their way might not be the easiest task, but the team seems to keep a positive attitude. In the grand scheme of things, it’s just a game. What the Red Hawks might lack in basketball prowess they make up for in great character. That starts at the top with coach Holcomb, who fittingly finishes every practice with the Lord’s Prayer.

NORCAL

Top: Sophomore guard Marc Kirkland prepares to sink a free throw against Chico State.

Middle: Sophomore guard Dalton Thacker guards an inbounds pass against Junior guard Jonnie Washburn in practice.

Bottom: Coach Holcomb uses a timeout to go over his team’s strategy in the game against Chico State.

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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professional sports

NorCal NFL Report The Tale of Two Trending Teams

BY Mike Wagner

They say that every dog has its day. For the two NFL teams that call Northern California home, those days were far apart.

All hardcore NFL fans know the history: The San Francisco 49ers won five Super Bowls from ’81 to ’95 behind iconic quarterbacks Joe Montana and Steve Young.

Both of those men had the good fortunes to pass to the man who is recognized as the greatest receiver of all-time, Jerry Rice.

They were considered a dynasty in the ‘80s and managed to maintain success in the ‘90s with eight playoff appearances and six NFC West titles in 10 years. Then it all fell apart as they missed the playoffs from 2003 to 2010.

Across the bay, the Oakland Raiders were a progressive, high-powered team in the late 70s and early 80s led by brazen, outspoken owner Al Davis along with the immortalized, video game tycoon head coach John Madden. They won three Super Bowl Championships between ’76 and ’83 (with the third ‘ship coming in Los Angeles). Their most successful seasons since were in 2001 when they lost in the playoffs to the New England Patriots in the infamously league altering “Tuck Rule Game,” and in 2002 when they were beaten in the Super Bowl by former coach Jon Gruden. The franchise has not made the playoffs since.

Both teams had missed the playoffs for the better part of the 2000s, and only finished a combined five regular seasons with winning records, Oakland with three and San Francisco two. During that period this pair of Bay Area teams employed 10 head coaches collectively, while not a single one currently hold a head coaching position in the NFL. Fast forward to the 2013–2014 season where the 49ers and Raiders are each

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

Top: Niner’s quarterback Colin Kaepernick escapes a wouldbe Denver Broncos’ tackler earlier this season. Kaepernick took over as the team’s starting quarterback in Week 11 of the 2012 season, leading the team to its first Super Bowl Appearance since 1995.

Bottom: Raider’s fans and season ticket holders like Ryan Rogers (right) remain enthusiastic even though their team has failed to make the playoffs for over a decade.

lead by head coaches with less than three years of head coaching experience in the NFL, and are coming off two very different 2012 seasons. The 49ers’ 2012 roster bolstered nine pro-bowlers after losing a heart breaker in the Super Bowl.

The Raiders only managed four wins last season and appear to be traveling down a similar road this season after making a few additions to their respective roster.

The 2013 season has been one where both teams have their own expectations by their fans—fans that are known for their

diehard loyalty and love for their teams.

The Niners’ fans have been lucky enough to experience some winning seasons as of late in San Francisco, but fans are aware of what the future holds. The 49ers, playing their last season at Candlestick Park, will be moving about an hour south of “The City” to their new home in Santa Clara. This move has created some apprehension and excitement from fans of the red and gold as the team leaves its city of over 60 years and at the same time has created excitement for the upward-

NORCAL trending team as they prepare to play in their newly-constructed stadium.

Russ Murray of Redding has been rooting for San Fran’ for nearly 40 years and will be sad to see the team leave its current city, but is optimistic for what the future holds.

“Candlestick from day one was poor; poor location, poor design. However, it was located in the vicinity of SF,” Murray said. “Now, with that all said, I am looking forward to a modern, state-of-the-art venue to showcase the talent from my favorite football team.”

According to Murray, the team has always been competitive and has been fostering young prospects and amazing superstars for many years, even during their boom or bust seasons.

“The best part of being a fan is sharing in your team’s victories (and losses) with other fans,” Murray said.

About 10 miles across the bay, the Raiders haven’t had a winning season since 2002, but have been trying to put the right pieces together these past few years. After a 13-year stint in Los Angeles, the silver and black returned to Oakland and experienced its own successes highlighted by a trip to the Super Bowl in 2002. Yet, even after the team’s recent struggles, Raider Nation hasn’t faltered for a moment and their fans have shown their reputable grit and passion for their team, season after season.

Both teams from Northern California’s great bay possess fan bases that display a unique loyalty for their teams and cities.

These two teams, separated by only a bridge, have their own personalities and fan bases that make them distinctive and exceptional. They can be described as faithful, unyielding and yes, sometimes even ruthless. Nevertheless, the red, gold, silver and black embody the culture and spirit of Northern California.

congratulates Enterprise High School’s Varsity Football team on winning their Division II NorCal Championship.

Great job Hornets!

NORCAL

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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youth sports

Football in the Northstate The Northern California Federation of Youth Football (NCF) has been taking over NorCal recently. Kids ranging from age 6 – 14-years-old represent one of the 25 different teams in the area. This photo shows some of the Foothill Jr. Cougars Mighty Mite players resting during a Saturday game. The divisions range from the Mighty Mites to Midgets.

Most teams, including the Enterprise Jr. Hornets (left), share a field during one of their three practices during the week. During practice, the kids are taught discipline, physical fitness and sportsmanship. They will do their best to use those lessons in the games, much like the Foothill Jr. Cougar (right) who breaks a long run on against Durham Jr. Trojans.

Cheerleading plays a major role in NCF program, providing girls the same life lessons taught to the football players. Here we see the Foothill Jr. Cougars Cheerleaders show off their moves in front of the home crowd. Each season, a conference and state cheer competition is hosted for each squad to show off their best routines.

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

nutrition

Healthy Eating in a Hurry Near the top of almost everyone’s list of most common New Year’s resolutions is a healthier diet. Who doesn’t want to shave a few calories with a mind toward better nutrition? Healthy eating seems easy on January 1st and a few days after, but soon enough we fall back into those familiar unhealthy patterns. Once the cycle is broken, poor eating habits can come roaring back with a vengeance. Luckily there are lots of ways to plan and prepare healthy meals that take very little time and pack a great nutritional punch. Here’s an easy, healthy recipe your family will enjoy:

Slow-Cooked, Roasted Turkey Breast with Spinach Salad and Cranberry Sauce Ingredients: 3-4 lb. fresh turkey breast (skin on) 1 – 1-ounce envelope of dry onion soup mix 1 – 14 oz. can Whole Berry Cranberry sauce 4 cups pre-washed raw spinach leaves 1/8 -cup crushed pecans

Fifteen minutes before carving the turkey, combine the spinach, pecans and dried cranberries in a large salad bowl and mix in the dressing.

Slice the turkey and serve it on a plate with the salad and a quarter cup of cranberry sauce.

Total prep time – 15 minutes – serves 4 Nutritional Information: The best part of this recipe is that the leftover turkey is a great high protein, low calorie snack or lunch for the next day.

Try variations of this meal once a week – your family will love it.

Turkey 4 ounce serving, 223 calories, 32 grams protein, 9.4 grams fat, 86 mg cholesterol Salad – 190 calories (without dressing, add additional calories for the dressing of your choice) Cranberry Sauce – 110 calories

A handful of dried cranberries Bottled Light Vinaigrette or spinach salad dressing Place the rinsed turkey breast in a crockpot or slow cooker. Use the dry onion soup mix as a rub and apply with your hand over the skin of the turkey. Cover and cook on low 7 – 8 hours. Remove the turkey from the crockpot and it’s almost ready for carving.

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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10

Questions with Mike Mangas

FEATURE

You may know him as the KRCR News Anchor, talking to you through your TV every night. Maybe you’ve bumped into him fishing at a local river.

Maybe he jogs past your house every morning. Or maybe you even pass him in the aisle of the local grocery store or see him at the pulpit as the deacon of your church.

M

ike Mangas is known in the community for many different reasons, but for most, he will always be known as the longtime sports anchor for KRCR Channel 7 news.

Seeing his face every night on your TV might give you the illusion that you know him, and maybe you do. But did you know that the man who brings you the local news every night still collects baseball cards?

We didn’t think so. That’s why we sat down with the local legend himself to gain some perspective on his always active life.

You grew up in Shasta County, graduating from Shasta High School and California State

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

University, Chico. What is your favorite part of the North Valley and why did you decide to raise your family here?

The diversity of the area-and of course the outdoors, the rivers, streams, lakes, etc. You can be in the mountains in less than an hour. Why did I stay to raise the family? Partly because we already had family here, and I never found anywhere else I’d rather be. I can go out the front door of our office, walk across a parking lot, and fish for trout. I mean, c’mon.

What initially got you into sports?

I grew up a sports fan. It probably came from my Dad. I remember collecting baseball cards when I was

7, and it’s never stopped. He also gave me a love of fishing. He didn’t hunt. Maybe that’s one reason I never have.

What sparked your interest in broadcasting and how did you become the accomplished journalist you are today?

After graduating from Shasta High, I went to Fresno State as a journalism major. I had planned on a newspaper career, but all the classes were filled, so I took a broadcasting class, and thought, “Hey, this is fun!”

I didn’t like Fresno, so came back to Redding/Chico after my freshman year there.

As the Sport’s Director at KRCR Channel 7 from 1978-2005, is there a specific sports momentthat sticks out in your mind as your favorite?

My favorite moment was when the 49ers won Super Bowl XIX at Stanford Stadium, Joe Montana and the Niners totally outplaying Dan Marino and the Dolphins. I had a friend on the team, Jeff Stover of

We ride bikes, and try to spend as much time as possible with our children and grandchildren.

You are an admitted San Francisco Giants fan.

Do you think their success, and that of the 49ers, has spiked sports interest in Northern California?

I can go out the front door of our office, walk across a parking lot, and fish for trout. I mean, c’mon.

Chico (still a friend), and celebrating with him in the locker room after the game (I had a press pass) was pretty special.

What are the differences you see in the local sports landscape today compared to 25 years ago?

A trend I noticed then, and it hasn’t abated, is the specialization of an athlete in one sport (which I don’t like). Fewer athletes play the sport in season (football, basketball, baseball for example) and more tend to identify one earlier, play it practically year round, go to camps, etc. I think it can lead to burnout, and not as well- rounded a person. All parents think their child will get a scholarship to Notre Dame, and then go on to a pro career, and the specialization feeds into it.

With all the outdoor activities we have at our disposal locally, is there one that you find particularly appealing?

Probably hiking. I love to get into the woods with my camera.

What North Valley activities do you like to do in your spare time?

I think it’s spiked interest in those teams, but I don’t know about overall. The NFL is so huge now. I think there are plenty of front-runners who have worn Giants gear the past few seasons. Now we’re seeing more Dodgers and A’s stuff.

You were voted into the Shasta High School, Shasta College and Shasta County Sports Halls of Fame. What was it like to be honored this way?

Very special, and I feel totally undeserving. The Shasta County Hall of Fame was really cool in its heyday, and I feel really honored to be included in a group of accomplished “real” athletes, who have succeeded at the highest levels.

What is yourfavorite activity in our community that you could spend a day doing with your family?

That’s a tough one. Probably my favorite place in the whole world is the Trinity Alps, so it’s always great to get away from the valley for a day, or evening, or more. That would be the aforementioned hiking, taking pictures, and just hanging out with the family.

NORCAL

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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Wild! outdoors

about Hiking

By staff writer

T

istock.com

he next time someone tells you to take a hike, it’s nice to know (if they meant it literally) that NorCal has some terrific options. Lions and tigers and bears? You bet!

Well, except for tigers, but during summer we get extra points for rattlesnakes.

Calculating the sheer number of miles dedicated to hiking, biking and equestrian trails in northern California would require a scientific calculator and a serious nerd to work it. Let’s just say that if you’re partial to wearing off shoe leather, this is the place. Most of our cities, parks and wilderness areas have trail systems, many of which provide a great way to stay healthy regardless of your age. They also offer unparalleled access to some of the most pristine and beautiful areas hardly ever seen by motorists. Our north state has always attracted wanderers. Some trails provide history, and even the stuff of best-selling novels and Hollywood movies.

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Northern California has all kinds of trails from hiking to biking to equestrian to wilderness to urban to almost-always-vacant wilderness trails. The City of Redding alone boasts 80 miles of trails.

By far the longest hiking trail on the west coast is the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), parts of which run right through our backyard. While it is a trail system reaching all the way Mexico to Canada, it’s also essentially a series of shorter trails traversing Butte, Tehama, Shasta, Trinity and Siskiyou Counties. You can jump on or off the PCT wherever you want depending on how far you want to go and how rigorous a workout you’re looking for.

Actress Reese Witherspoon probably didn’t encounter any real snakes while shooting the film “Wild!” scheduled for release later in 2014. The film is based on the bestselling memoir by Cheryl Strayed who, as a young woman in the mid-1990s, hiked the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) alone from southern California to the Columbia River at the top of Oregon. In so doing she hiked all the way through Tehama, Shasta, Trinity and Siskiyou Counties. Her account is filled with arcane descriptions of running out of water, breathtaking scenery, rattlesnake encounters, waking up covered with frogs and hiking in boots one size too small.

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Beyond merely enjoying a great story of a young woman finding herself, the book (read it) might also be used as a sort of guide about what to do and not do while hiking.

Only three years before Cheryl Strayed was limping through northern California, a young man named Chris McCandless hitchhiked through Redding and Whiskeytown and on to Arcata. Later he famously hiked alone into the Alaskan wilderness, some say wholly unprepared. McCandless became the subject of Jon Krakauer’s bestselling novel “Into the Wild,” which later became a film by the same name directed by Sean Penn. It did not end as well for McCandless as it did for Strayed, and the Boy Scout motto “Be Prepared” has never been truer than in planning a hike.

Northern California has all kinds of trails from hiking to biking to equestrian to wilderness to urban to almost-always-vacant wilderness trails. The City of Redding alone boasts 80 miles of trails. These, particularly the Sacramento River Trail, are more popular with casual hikers and families.

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While you should always be careful and alert while hiking in the wilderness, I’ve never encountered an aggressive black bear. They typically want to get away from you as much as you want to get away from them.

For some longer wilderness hiking options, Whiskeytown National Recreation Area west of Redding is a fabulous choice. Be sure to stop at the visitor’s center on your way in to learn about the length and degree of difficulty of the various trials, over 50 miles worth. These are some of my favorite trails because there is always a chance to run into old mines and even deserted homesteads. I once encountered the largest black bear I’ve ever seen hiking alone on one of these trails. While you should always be careful and alert while hiking in the wilderness, I’ve never encountered an aggressive black bear. They typically want to get away from you as much as you want to get away from them. Still, it’s a good idea to bring a friend while hiking far away from civilization.

In the late 1820s notorious hikers were known by another name, mountain man. Jedediah Smith (for whom NorCal’s Smith River is named) led a trapping party up what is now the Sacramento River from present-day Red Bluff. He finally abandoned the area and headed for the coast after being stalked for several days by a large grizzly bear. Smith had been mauled

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by another grizzly a few years before on the Cheyenne River in Wyoming/South Dakota, and was well known for the facial scarring he carried for the rest of his life. The bear reportedly tore most of his scalp almost off. Smith, practical to a fault, ordered another man in his party stitch it back on with a needle and thread. The result was presumably, well, hair-raising.

Lassen Volcanic National Park has over 150 miles of great trails and some offer the opportunity to look into some of the area’s more recent (1914-1917) volcanic history, called the Devastated Area. For physically fit hikers looking for a rewarding day and breathtaking views, the climb to the top of Lassen Peak (10, 463 ft.) remains a perennial favorite. Try it on a summer night when there’s a full moon. Actually, it isn’t really a climb at all, only a strenuous hike.

Before hiking anywhere in Lassen Park it’s a great idea to call the park headquarters to check on access.

Snow often clogs many of the park’s trails well into June and July.

Castle Crags State Park south of Dunsmuir offers almost 28 miles of hiking trails, some offshoots of the

PCT, which crosses in an east-west direction through the park. In the northwest corner of the park you can visit the area where the Battle of Castle Crags took place and dream of cowboys and Indians. This is where the Modoc people were the last Indians to use bows and arrows (1855) against local miners who were destroying their food source, the salmon runs in the Sacramento River. The First Nations people were defeated, and the battle was to become the first of many in what was to be called the Modoc Wars.

Hiking in NorCal is certainly not all about mountain men and movie stars, but it is uniquely Californian. Some urban hikes are immensely popular and involve almost as much chatting as hiking. Other hikes are so solitary and remote that if you didn’t know you were neighbors to about 40 million other Californians, you would never suspect it. In any case, the next guy who tells you to take a hike might be doing you a favor. After all, “Not all those who wander,” said J.R.R. Tolkien, “are lost.”

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Winter Wonderland

Norcal mountain preview

Is there anything better than standing atop a 200-foot snow cliff at 8,000 ft. and the only vehicle you have to get you down alive is flat piece of fiberglass, plastic and metal?

By Zach O’Brien

O

kay, maybe that didn’t paint the most desirable picture of one of NorCal’s favorite pasttimes: Skiing and snowboarding. But for our more active brethren, we know that a day on the mountain can provide exercise, a day outdoors and possibly even one heck of a thrill ride.

A day at the ski park can offer any human being something to do. The young can experience the beauty of nature while defining their

motor skills and potentially tagging someone with a snowball in the process. The more mature can relax with a long, slower descent, taking in the scenery and possibly a steaming cup of hot chocolate in the lodge. And the in-betweeners can find any number of cliffs, jumps or double black diamond runs to push their limits of athleticism or sanity.

Either way you look at it, embracing the mountain to have fun or spend time with friends and family is a

win-win. There are a number of mountains to enjoy in NorCal. For us deep in the valley, of course that giant hunk of snowy rock we call Mt. Shasta is always a fine option. But venturing to Lake Tahoe or Oregon to enjoy their slews of mountainous rock is enjoyable as well. That’s why we are previewing five great mountains in our vicinity. I would caution you to choose wisely. Lucky for you, they are all a great choices.

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Mt. Shasta Ski Park Location: McCloud, California Elevation: 6,890 Lifts: 4 Trails: 32 Full Day Adult Lift Ticket: $44 Skipark.com

Mt. Shasta Ski Park

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ocated around 65 miles north of Redding is this quaint, local’s paradise, Shasta is known for its gripping scenery and incredible backcountry. This might be the shortest elevated mountain on our list, but it is also the most affordable.

Once you reach the mountain, beginners that have graduated from the bunny-hill can look to the left to find Marmot, a triple lift that will take you to the beginner and intermediate runs. If you aren’t looking for speed and vertical excessiveness, take the long trip down Easy Street and Midnight Sun. These offer smaller slopes to work on your turns and breathe in the fresh air. For you X Games impressionists, try riding the intermediate terrain park located on Silvertip.

Intermediate and advanced skiers and snowboarders can look to the right at the Douglas Lift. You will notice it stretches far up the Douglas Butte Ridge traveling above the intimidating black diamond run called the West Face, one of the steepest trails on the mountain. If you are an intermediate rider, don’t fret.

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Take the North Saddle and Highland Glide for a long ride all the way back to the lodge.

Advanced riders looking for a thrill can take the Coyote lift (located mid-mountain) up to the top of Coyote Butte for some breathtaking views and serious black diamonds. Great powder runs can be found via the Coyote, and is the quickest way for the tricksters to hit the Revolution Terrain Park as many times as possible in a day.

Backcountry Craig Says: For expert riders on a powder day, you are going to want to shred the “Pumpkin Patches” or just “The Patches,” (a local secret and backcountry playground). Take Coyote up and take a left at the top. Go straight back into the woods. Make sure there are already tracks back there and the snow has a solid base. You will follow the small, swervy trail until it opens up to a clear, powder wonderland. Shred with speed through the powder or hang out and build a jump. Just remember: Experts only!

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Boreal

D

riving east down I-80 towards Reno you will come across Donner Summit, the infamous location of the Donner Party’s questionable dinner choice. You will also come across Boreal Mountain Resort; a smaller mountain compared to its Tahoe counterparts, but jam-packed full of jumps, jibs and half pipes. Extreme skiers or snowboarders will be able to push their limits and learn some new tricks at this progressive park. Also, with its weather and snowmaking ability, this resort is usually the first to open its season and the last to close in the spring.

Beginners can make their way to the Castle Peak Quad and Nugget lifts where they will find easy runs to get them started. Kids with an eye on becoming the next extreme sports star can check out all the fun bumps and jibs along the way.

For higher-level riders looking to experience the entire mountain, take the Accelerator Quad to the

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summit where you can enjoy the marvelous view and choose to go anywhere on the hill, including one of the many terrain parks embellishing the middle of the mountain. You can even turn right and cut across the ridge to the backside where there is usually an incredible boardercross run.

Backcountry Craig Says: This mountain is not known for its backcountry terrain, but after a gnarly storm you can find the powder lines by taking the Cedar Ridge or Flying Dutchman lifts on the backside.

Boreal Location: Soda Springs, California Elevation: 7,700 ft.

Lifts: 7 Trails: 41 Full Day Adult Lift Ticket: $52 SkiBoreal.com

Northstar At Tahoe

T

his is our choice for the perfect family getaway. Located in the heart of Truckee, California, this resort features an incredible village at the bottom of the hill with retail stores, restaurants and even a year-round ice skating rink. You can rent a cabin on the slopes, take the Big Springs Gondola to the lodge and ski right back to your door. A lot can be said for the tourist appeal this mountain has to offer, but we’ll focus on the important activities.

With almost flat terrain, the runs below the Gondola are perfect for beginners. You can ride in the comfort of the Gondola and take frequent breaks at the village. Intermediate riders can take the Arrow Express lift to mid-mountain for a simple, yet steep ride down to the lodge.

For experienced mountaineers, take the chair all the way to the top for a hot cup of chili and beverage at the Summit Lodge. Make sure to enjoy the view of Lake Tahoe, a chance to experience some once-in- alifetime scenery. Then you can take one of the longest runs of your life back to the village. If you want to avoid crowds and go native, ride the backside of the mountain.

Olympic Gold Medalist and legendary snowboarder Shaun White calls this mountain his home, so you know Northstar is going to be home to one of the most epic terrain parks in the world. One lift is (for the most part) dedicated solely to the terrain parks for small, medium and large riders. The famous Pinball Terrain Park has some of the most creative jibs and features in the world. Did we mention the colossal half-pipe at the bottom of the run? Think you can do what Shaun White does? Take a look at the twentyfoot walls of Northstar’s half-pipe and you will most likely think twice.

For a different extreme terrain experience, take the Zephyr lift to The Stash Terrain Park for a one-of-akind backcountry terrain park. The trees are laced with hidden tree jibs and jumps scattered throughout, with a forest lodge that you can use as a jump, jib the staircase or simply hang out in for an afternoon.

Backcountry Craig Says: This mountain has hidden – and I do mean hidden – backcountry appeal. Every run seems to have a few, or a lot of, great powder spots. For the most obvious powder runs, hit the backside. Not only is it far from the crowds and sometimes untouched, it also has the highest probability of finding an epic backcountry playground.

Northstar At Tahoe Location: Truckee, California Elevation: 8,610 ft Lifts: 20 Trails: 97 Full Day Adult Lift Ticket: $93 NorthstarAtTahoe.com

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Sierra At Tahoe

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n the Lake Tahoe area, this mountain is a local’s (and Backcountry Craig’s) favorite. Located near the Twin Bridges summit off Interstate 50, Sierra gets a litany of snow during the winter making it attractive to powder-chasers. With a small lodge and little to no touristy attractions, the true enthusiasts find bliss here.

Taking the Quad lift to the top is the obvious choice for any rider, as the ride descent offers it all, beginner and intermediate runs, terrain parks and great trails through the timber.

For beginners, use the Easy Rider Express to hone in on the basics. The run even has a terrain park alongside it for your viewing pleasure. For a longer run, you can take the Nob Hill lift to Main Street and eventually Corkscrew (both green trails) for a ride on the slow, windy trail down the mountain.

Intermediate riders will find both challenging and easy runs by taking the Grandview Express and turning right off the lift. From there you can ride across the ridge of the mountain and drop in to any green, blue or black diamond runs that fit your fancy. You can also go across the entire mountain to reach the West Bowl area, or even drop into the Backside.

The terrain parks on this mountain can move on any given day. They move and change with a precise creativity that will bring you new excitement and challenges every time you go. The Bashful Terrain Park on the West Bowl area of the mountain is worldrenown. Normally known for its lengthy jumps, Bashful is located on a trail with thick forest on either side in order to keep the usual tourist onlookers out of the way (note to beginners: watching the experts perform their high-flying tricks is okay. It’s great inspiration to progress your skills. Just STAY OUT OF THEIR WAY. Riding in the terrain parks and getting in the way of the obstacles can put the riders and yourself in serious danger.).

Fun locals tip: Park in the back parking lot near the West Bowl and ride all the way down to your car.

Backcountry Craig Says: Dude! This mountain is so epic! Where do I begin?! Okay, if you take the Grandview Express to the top of the mountain, take a left and follow the flat trail to the far left side. There you will find The Gate showing the resort’s bound-

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Sierra At Tahoe Location: Twin Bridges, California Elevation: 8,852 ft.

Lifts: 14 Trails: 46 Full Day Adult Lift Ticket: $84 SierraAtTahoe.com

ary. If you’re lucky the gate will be open for crazy powder runs. If you go this way enough times, logic says you will eventually hit too much snow and have to hike out. What next… Okay, if you are truly crazy for backcountry insanity, you have to find the rock drops littering the mountain. Take the Sugar N’ Spice run off the Grandview Express and drop into the trees on the right side of the run along the way. On a great powder day you will be entering a Mecca for rock drops and tree rides. Finally, simply drop into the backside of the mountain from the Grandview Express and you will find a huge area of great backcountry terrain amidst the tall trees.

Heavenly

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ocated center stage among the casinos in South Lake Tahoe, Heavenly is the only local mountain that competes with Northstar for “insane resort status.” You can literally stroll out of your twentieth-floor casino hotel room with skis or snowboard in hand and walk to the Gondola in five minutes.

Located on the California/Nevada border, this mountain enables you to explore not one, but two states. If you want to see the entirety of the mountain, good luck with that. Heavenly spans 4,800 acres of skiable terrain making it the largest resort in California. So, where would you begin? Let’s start with the California side of the mountain.

You can take Ski Run Blvd. to Heavenly’s California Lodge to begin with. And yes, if you want to get anywhere on this massive mountain, it’s a journey.

Take the Gunbarrel Express over the ridge where you can ride to the Powderbowl Express. In this little area located by the Lakeview Lodge you will find the Groove Terrain Park; great for quick, action-packed runs on intermediate jumps and rails.

From the Powderbowl Express you can ride a number of intermediate or easy runs. On this mountain, sometimes it is best to stay in one area. Exploring around the mountain can get you lost or late for your ride at the end of the day. You can ride due east to the Sky Express which will take you to the California peak of the resort. From the peak there are numerous black diamond and intermediate runs. There is also the big, bad High Roller Terrain Park known for its massive jumps and difficult features. There is also the option to ride east to the Nevada side, which is fun to explore but can be time-consuming and tedious finding your way around.

Now it’s time to explore the Nevada side where the runs are much longer and spread out. The farther into Nevada you go, the less dense the crowds become.

Start at the Stagecoach Lodge near the top of Kingsbury Grade on Nevada Route 207. There you will find a great lodge with a not-so-jam-packed parking lot.

Take the Stagecoach lift up the hill and follow the signs to the Dipper Express lift. From the Dipper you can reach much of the mountain, including riding the intermediate terrain of the Nevada side. You can also ski over to the California side or even ride the most popular terrain park on the mountain, Ante Up. Of course, the most popular alternative to getting up to Heavenly is the world-famous Gondola from Heavenly Village near Stateline. This lift will give you gorgeous scenery of Lake Tahoe and put you

Heavenly Location: South Lake Tahoe, California Elevation: 10,067 ft.

Lifts: 29 Trails: 97 Full Day Adult Lift Ticket: $105 SkiHeavenly.com

smack-dab in the middle of the mountain, offering you a choice which side you choose to ride that day.

Also, the Heavenly Village has a great choice of food, shopping and entertainment, including a seasonal ice-skating rink.

Backcountry Craig Says: This mountain is huge, giving it much more potential for some epic powder runs! The Skyway Glades and Pinnacles runs can be located from the Skyway Express and will give you awesome powder turns in the middle of the mountain making it easy to hop on the lift and do it over and over. Also, try the Nevada side of the mountain where there is a ton of large-tree areas where you’ll find some sick obstacles. For the truly extreme experts, you can venture over to the Killebrew Canyon and Mott Canyon chutes located way up top on the Nevada side. You can only enter if the gates are open, and if you dare to, be ready for the epic backcountry ride of your life!

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January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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The Haunted

Caribou

BY Chip O’Brien

“AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK… AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK…” My eyes opened the size of softballs and the sleeping bag I’d been dozing in nearly lifted off the ground.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAACK…” The blast of sound exploded across the landscape, through the trees and dissipated over the lake.

“Holy Crap!” I screamed as I fought free of the bag and leapt to my feet. I was a knot of fear and adrenaline, my hands welded into fists, my body assuming a defensive stance against, what? Only my head moved as I strained to see what might be coming for me in the darkness.

A minute passed as I gasped for air, my lungs trying to keep up with my pounding heart. All was quiet, too quiet, except for a gust of wind that rustled through the trees like an unclean spirit. I glared into the darkness, my eyes groping back and forth.

The forest all around me was opaque except for the dying embers of a campfire and a million points of light in the sky overhead. Was it watching me?

“Who’s there?” I screamed, my words sounding weak and pathetic against something I suspected was not. Darkness swallowed my words and I thought I detected a mocking tone in the nothing I heard in response. More silence.

I reached behind me and slowly added wood to build up the fire, not wanting to take my eyes off the perimeter of my campsite. Nothing moved but the occasional gentle swaying of trees. My every sense tingled and popped and I cursed

myself for not taking a friend’s suggestion of bringing a gun with me. I was defenseless, and all the more so because I had no idea what I was dealing with. Soon the fire was blazing and it offered both comfort and, at least I hoped, some protection.

At least it moved the darkness back a few feet.

Defending myself against unseen monstrosities had not been part of my plan for backpacking into northern California’s Caribou Wilderness. Though it seems remote in every sense, the Caribou is only about 20 miles north of Lake Almanor and the town of Chester. I thought I had considered every possibility and planned accordingly to insure a safe trip. This was meant to be a fishing trip, a trip where I could relax and get away from the burdens of everyday life. The care I devoted to preparing for these excursions and considering all possibilities was something I prided myself on. There had been no signs of other humans on my hike in, so there was a good chance I was miles, maybe many miles away from help. Whatever had produced that God-awful roar in the darkness had to be huge. That limited the field to only a few known possibilities, all potentially dangerous to humans. Until I knew more, I had no choice but to assume it meant danger. What was it?

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When I went to the Caribou I thought I was well prepared.

Instead I found myself cringing like a frightened child in the dark, and was furious with myself for whatever personal deficiency had put me there.

I did not hear the roar again that night, but neither did I sleep. The night was spent cowering by the fire unable to close my eyes, and thinking, thinking, thinking. I had spent countless nights by myself in the wilderness and never heard anything like that. Morning finally came and being able to see the area around my camp lent some comfort. I thought it wise to start with an inventory of the things I knew, however inadequate that might be. I made coffee and started feeling less wretched.

The obvious question was, should I stay, or get the hell out while I could? Danger I could see was somehow preferable to danger I could not. I had survived the night, but against what?

Not knowing seemed much worse than any flesh-and-blood threat I could imagine.

Huge sounds didn’t come from small, weak things I reasoned.

It was a deep, resonant growl louder than an automobile horn and immensely resonant. It was bass and sonorous, guttural and baritone. What really set it apart was the volume. It was tremendous, much louder than a bear or mountain lion could make.

It was not the kind of sound you want to hear close by when you’re camping alone in a roadless wilderness area, especially one with a reputation.

In my reading before the trip I’d been hooked into reading a funky Internet story about someone’s supposedly violent and bloody encounter with a “Bigfoot” in the Caribou. It was lurid and gory and naturally, I thought, ridiculous. Now I was in that very place dealing with something I could not fathom. I’d long before decided that Bigfoot was a quaint myth, but the wee portion of myself that had to admit I didn’t know everything was gaining ground. The night before I had been waiting for death to come from darkness, which was ironic. I had come to the Caribou in the first place to escape death and darkness.

It had been a rough summer with the unexpected passing of my mom back east. Three days after returning home, I was the first to happen upon a horrific single-car automobile accident.

Thankfully the young man didn’t die in my arms, but he did the next day at the hospital and sending his best friend to prison for drunk driving. Maybe it’s true about these things coming in threes. A few days later my best high school friend gave in to cancer, the first of our group of close friends to die.

My head was reeling. I was consumed, distracted. It was too much. I knew it was grief and it’s weight was heavy, but that

realization did little to dispel the darkness. Luckily, I had a sense of what I could do. As a youngster I discovered a place to go in times of trouble, a place of beauty where the world seemed simpler.

In grade school I had been the fat kid in my class, and when the teasing became too much I fled to the fields, forests and ravines around our home where there was no ridicule. I preferred a world where teasing did not exist. Eventually I sought those places routinely, not because I was running from something, but because I had found something worth running to. The first thing I learned was to feel comfortable with myself out there; that I was smart and capable of much more than people assumed. As I gained knowledge of myself I also learned a lot about the natural world. It was a life or death game to be sure, but the rules were straightforward and made sense to me. As I grew I developed a singular passion, an obsession, for lonely faraway places. I had discovered wilderness, and it became my university.

How predictable I became! In times of stress I naturally eschewed people; but that wasn’t enough. I needed to be out there, gone, disconnected; and discovered a desire to become conspicuously bold with my life. I worked hard at loosing myself in it, and as is often the case, found something of myself in the process. I learned and studied and idolized famous outdoorsmen like Ernest Hemingway and John Muir. I studied ecosystems and forests and mountains and the creatures I found there. My mind was set against a grinding stone to shape it into an instrument I could rely on out there. I pursued everything an experienced woodsman needed to know, and went afield often to gain confidence.

When I went to the Caribou I thought I was well prepared. Instead I found myself cringing like a frightened child in the dark, and was furious with myself for whatever personal deficiency had put me there. There were no guarantees I would even live through the trip. But no, I decided, I would not leave. If I did, I would judge myself a coward and perhaps lose a love for something I had come to cherish. I would figure this thing out.

The enormity of the sound suggested whatever had made it was large. I knew there were cougars and black bears around, but had enough experience with each to feel relatively safe. I knew that whatever had made that God-awful sound was neither a cat nor a bear. It was something else. In looking around I found

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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a chunk of wood shaped like a club and carried it with me as I patrolled the area. A crude weapon, perhaps, but having it made me feel slightly better.

I recognized my own tracks on the trails and got in the habit of seeing them. There were many other tracks around as there often are in the wilderness. There were deer tracks and I had seen a few in small groups pruning bushes. In the back of my mind I reasoned that where there were deer in a remote location, there were also mountain lions. This notion did not bother me because deer and cougars are almost ubiquitous and far more common than most people think. The few I had encountered in the wild before had wanted no part of humans. Besides, cougar attacks were very rare, and I was convinced I looked nothing at all like a deer. The heft of my club felt good as I stalked the woods.

I expected to find black bear tracks, but found none that day.

My food was carefully hung from a high limb back at camp to preclude any food fights. Bears were even less fond of humans in their back yard than cats, except where food was concerned. As I hiked I whistled a happy tune not only to amuse myself, but also to give any wildlife in the area plenty of time to avoid me. There

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were raccoon, heron and goose tracks near the lakes. I recognized where a small snake had slithered across the trail, though I knew I was too high in elevation to worry about rattlesnakes. Strangely, there are no caribou in the Caribou.

I didn’t hear the roar again for several days. The days were bright and warm and a high-pressure system lingered keeping the air still. Properly fatigued at the end of each day, I slept well the next several nights without interruption. Like the careful woodsman that I was, I kept that roar in the back of my mind and never went anywhere without my club.

I enjoyed making a study of the tracks I found each day.

By stepping on top of the animal tracks I found, I could assess which animals had passed that way, and approximately when. If there were tracks over the top of my tracks, I knew the creature had passed that way since the last time I was there. One morning I found adult cougar tracks less than forty feet from my camp, but decided that was less disturbing to me than a deafening night noise I could not name.

After a few days I began to relax. That first night wore on me, but time was beginning to create distance from my fear. I was

At 7,000 feet and far away from city lights, the night sky was very dark, but also as brilliant and sparkling as any I’ve seen.

There were so many stars that entire sections of the sky were lighter than others.

beginning to feel the old confidence coming back, and my recent obsession with death and danger began to fade.

It takes some time to get use to being alone in the wilderness, or more appropriately, alone with yourself. The self-talk you hear every day inside your brain turns into spoken words, and the days turn into an extended conversation with yourself. The birds and squirrels that heard me babbling to myself must have thought I was crazy, and I always curse too much at first. I have to force myself not to. Being alone with yourself is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a great deal like learning to be with anyone else, minus the pretense.

I often judge myself too harshly, and have to re-learn the grace of cutting myself as much slack as I try to cut others.

At first there is always a dark voice that saying I can’t or I shouldn’t, that I’m not worth it and so forth. Where does that come from? I eventually sent the negative voice packing, and my peace and enjoyment blossomed. Yet I was unable to relax thoroughly.

I packed a float tube in with me to give me access to fishing the lakes. Since timber grew right up to the edge of most of these, there was really no other option if I wanted room to cast. Since float tubes are nothing less than big, floating easy chairs, this was not an unpleasant way to pass the time while soaking up sun and doing something I dearly loved. I even stashed my club in the tube, which I had to admit seemed a little funny.

Trout fingerlings were dropped into the lakes of the Caribou from an airplane and the idea was for the trout to grow. A friend once described being in the “drop zone” when one of these deposits were made, and apparently only half the trout actually hit the water. The others littered the landscape wiggling and flipping around on the bank and in the bushes while my friend did a Keystone Cops imitation running around frantically tossing fish into the water. Some survived. Nothing like this happened to me, but it brought a smile to my face visualizing it.

The old good feelings were returning and the slower pace of vacation was settling over my spirit. The last several days had been clear and warm without the flicker of a breeze. All was quiet. One of my favorite activities became switching off my headlamp and setting my novel aside to watch the night sky. At 7,000 feet and far away from city lights, the night sky was very

dark, but also as brilliant and sparkling as any I’ve seen. There were so many stars that entire sections of the sky were lighter than others. With hard looking you could see these were filled with an unimaginable number of pinpoints of light. I loved the planes that occasionally flew overhead. Most were passenger airlines that flew a fairly predictable route, roughly southeast to northwest, and I imagined it was the Los Angeles-Seattle route.

Maybe it was. Sometimes smaller airplanes crossed the sky low enough that I could hear their engines. Airplane lights always blink, I knew, which helped distinguish the high ones from the satellites, whose lights did not blink. They resembled tiny ants making their way across the vast skyscape. A breeze was building and the swish of the trees in the wind was lulling me back to sleep when I heard it again.

“AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK… AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUAAAACK…” Something deep within me seemed to explode. I shucked out of my sleeping back in an instant, grabbed my club and stood swinging it back and forth. Suddenly I wanted blood. I wanted it, whatever it was.

“WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU?” I shrieked into the darkness. “COME GET ME… I WILL KILL YOU!” I screamed out again into the darkness, only this time something in me was different. I had become a dangerous animal. I could taste rage and wanted violence. It did not matter what it was or how terrible it might be. I would end this torment of not knowing, the feeling of being trapped or stalked by something I could not comprehend or even see. I stood defiantly swinging the club back and forth circling the fire and squinting into the darkness.

“BRING IT,” I screamed. “LET’S DO THIS… COME ON! ARE YOU SCARED? YOU BETTER BE!” As my words dissipated there was no sound but the breeze in the trees. The swinging of my club slowed and became more deliberate, more deadly. I had never been more dangerous in my life than at that moment. It was all coming out. Enough of feeling like a hunted animal, I thought, enough of living in fear. I was ready to do some hunting myself.

“COME AND GET ME!” I screamed and hurled the club with all my might. It landed with an unceremonious thump on the ground. All was quiet. I circled my camp, fists clenched like a wild man yelling, cursing and taunting until I eventually ran out

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

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The enormous sound knocked me off my feet. It was that close.

After scrambling to rid myself of the float tube straps I made a quick flip and was on my feet again, club in hand.

of steam. The rage lasted only a few minutes, but it felt good.

The next morning seemed like the first day of a different trip.

The campsite looked the same. Everything looked the same. I heard nothing out of the ordinary for the rest of the night, and I could find no unusual tracks the next morning. It was me. I was different. The nagging fear of the last few days was gone. It had been replaced with resolve. I knew nothing more of the titanic roar, or what was out there or even if it might kill me. I didn’t care. If I were about to die, by God I would have something to say about it. I would leave my mark. I hated the fact that I had not discovered what it was, yet also was proud that I had not run away. The fear lifted, and my interest in discovering the source of the great roar took a more academic turn. I still wanted to know what it was, and I also wanted to relax. There was one particular lake not more than a twenty-minute hike from my camp that I had not fished yet.

The water was staggeringly clear. Pushing out in my float from shore I could easily see down ten to fifteen feet, as far as the relentless sunlight penetrated. Catching fish would be nice, but I realized I had all that I required in that moment. I was sitting in a comfy float tube bobbing in a crystal clear lake surrounded by beauty. I had a bright blue sky overhead and a pristine landscape all to myself. There was no pollution or any sign of man. While I struggled with the part of me that felt unworthy, there was enough of me left to feel like a king sitting on a throne. I was happy.

The feeling was left hanging. A large trout impaled my fly nearly derricking the fly rod out of my grasp. “Wahoooo!” I yelled in exhilaration. What a pleasant way to spend an evening, I thought. After releasing the fish, much larger than anything I expected to catch, I felt great. The sun was setting and an evening breeze was gaining momentum. Good time to head back to camp. I had no reason to suspect things would change as quickly as they did.

Float tube slung over my back, I hit the trail. Though it was still plenty light out, the sun had dipped below the horizon and it was time to make a fire, some food and a good cup of coffee.

“AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK… AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK…” The enormous sound knocked me off my feet. It was that close. After scrambling to rid myself of the float tube straps I made a quick flip and was on my feet again, club in hand. While the sound seemed to cover the entire landscape, I got a sense it was louder

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overhead. I looked up, up, up the tall pine trees beside me.

There was nothing much to see. There were no bears, no lions, no space aliens or saber tooth tigers, only an ancient tangle of Lodgepole pine trees stretching up toward the evening sky.

“AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK… AAAAAAUUUUAAAACK…” blasted the roar again, and I stood there, my face lifted in absolute amazement. That was it. I had unraveled the mystery, and while I had never quite experienced anything like it before, there was nothing even slightly sinister about it.

There were two great pine trees, one standing straight and healthy, the other older and partially fallen. One tree was leaning against the other about forty feet above me, raw tree trunk against raw tree trunk. The bark on both trees had been long worn away where they came together. Imagine a monstrous violin and bowstring. The wind made the taller, healthy tree sway, while the lower, older tree remained stationary dragging the surface of the one across the other producing an enormous, deep explosion of sound. The wood somehow amplified the sound a hundred times over, and both trees seemed to stutter and shake with the almost sawing motion of the wind.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUAAAACK… AAAAAAUUUUUUUAAAACK…” I continued to watch for a while mesmerized, and I witnessed several more blasts of sound when the wind moved the trees in precisely the right way. Apparently the sound could only be made when the wind hit the taller tree from a particular direction. Since there had been very little wind while I was there, the precise conditions to produce the sound had to be just right.

That night sitting around a cheery campfire I tried to take stock of the trip, and my life. I judged myself innocent of overreacting to a noise so voluminous and unfamiliar in a wilderness setting. I decided it was being responsible to take it as seriously as I did. I’d never heard anything like it before or since. It was an anomaly and I could not have prepared for it.

The mysterious roar forced me to keep anxiety about death close at hand, which is what I needed to do in dealing with the grief that sent me into the Caribou in the first place. Until I changed, fear taunted me from the dark fringes of my own imagination. I supposed that death, though maybe frightening and unfamiliar, was about as sinister as two trees rubbing together in the wind. When my time came, I decided, I would meet it defiantly, club in hand.

NORCAL

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

41

Health

Good medicine for good sports All athletes can benefit from St. Elizabeth sports medicine program

In a few years, she’ll likely be called Dr. Brose. But for now, you can call her a plebe, the name for first-year students appointed to the prestigious U.S. Naval Academy.

As it turns out, the Sports Medicine Program at St. Elizabeth Community Hospital will have had a hand in both titles.

Brose, whose first name is Lily, recently completed a stellar career at Red Bluff High School. Even as a freshman, it was clear she was a phenomenal student and athlete, destined to compete at the collegiate level.

But that appeared unlikely after two anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) tears and a torn meniscus in her knee. A lot of athletes would have hung up their cleats after three surgeries and countless hours of rehab. But Lily had the heart and determination to fight through it. She made a full comeback, earning a track scholarship to Navy. And

“We’re here for all active people in our area.”

—Lonnie Scott, certified athletic trainer

“They give you a lot of encouragement and a lot of support just to keep going.”

—Lily Brose, patient

she’s quick to credit the St. Elizabeth sports medicine program.

“It’s amazing,” she says. “They’ve helped me beyond words.”

Allies for active living Lily’s is but one of many success stories of the sports medicine program, a team effort of the hospital, the Red Bluff Physical Therapy and Wellness Center, and Orthopedic Surgeon and Medical Director, Rico Dotson, MD. Working together, the three specialize in helping people of all ages and ability levels play smart, stay safe and return to their game should an injury occur.

“We’re here for all active people in our area,” says Lonnie Scott, a certified athletic trainer who also serves as business manager at the Wellness Center.

According to Dr. Dotson, the team focuses on three areas: 1. Education and prevention. Keeping an injury from happening is the best sports medicine strategy. This is accomplished through coaches’ clinics, public presentations and individual instruction.

Female athletes, for example, are at high risk for ACL injuries, like those Lily Brose experienced. But teaching them how to strengthen their legs and land better when jumping can make a big difference.

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“It significantly reduces the number of injuries that occur,” says Dr. Dotson.

2. Sideline support for sporting events. This includes high school athletics as well as community events, like road races, Cowboy Camp and the annual Red Bluff Round-Up Rodeo. Having trained professionals on-site at an event ensures someone will immediately evaluate any injury and get the injured person to the most appropriate care.

3. Surgical and nonsurgical treatment. When an injury needs treatment, program staff provide it. “Everybody here is top-of-the-line,” says Dr. Dotson. Sometimes that care includes instructions for home treatment or physical therapy. Other times, as in Lily’s case, surgery and more extensive rehabilitation may be necessary.

Aid and inspiration Lily is a strong believer in what sports medicine can do for people. Her experiences with Dr. Dotson and others in the program have nurtured a desire to become an orthopedic surgeon herself. “They’ve helped me do things I never thought I’d be able to do again,” she says. “They give you a lot of encouragement and a lot of support just to keep going. It’s something I’m forever grateful for.”

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Fitness

Not Two-Tired to Spin

By Jameson Jura

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

istock.com

Count me among the walking dead who drag themselves out of bed twelve months a year to head to the health club.

Barely conscious, I manage to haul my still-snoozing butt onto the tiny saddle of a medieval torture device known as a stationary bicycle. It’s called “spin class” at the gym, and it’s not even 5:00 a.m. If I were fully awake, there’s no chance in the world I would be here. And therein lies the secret.

My sons tease me about spin class. I’ve led a pretty active life, and they grew up with dad weight lifting, hiking, swimming and mountain climbing. I even swam across the Sacramento River a couple of times (not among the smartest things I’ve ever done). Of course, it’s difficult to maintain a pace like that forever. The notion of my sitting on a bike in a roomful of octogenarians seems to really tickle them. –Thanks, guys.

If I were fully conscious at that ungodly hour I would roll over and go back to sleep, which of course, is the beauty of being half-conscious. In a half-conscious state all things are possible. Half conscious I could face a charging rhinoceros, be a hit on Broadway, have a career in politics (hey, wait a minute...). When I do wake up I’m already on the bike, and might as well stay. This happens day after day.

If you’re like a lot of people, there is never a convenient time to work out on a regular basis, despite the need for it.

Anyone taking time to look at the “average” American will have to admit, we all need to get more exercise. It’s the chasm between that distant realization and actually getting yourself to do it that foils most of us.

My health club will remain nameless because they all share a certain complic-

ity in this. I typically take a seat in the back row, somehow drawing an unsettling parallel between spin classes and going to church. There are 25 bikes in the room, five rows of five. At the front of the room is the instructor’s bike, which I’ve decided is probably a fake. Most days I can’t even see the instructor because the three people always in the front row center probably outweigh the Green Bay Packers’ defensive line. Yet there they are, every day at 5:00 a.m.

From the back of the room I look out on a sea of medium-wide torsos and gray hair, people my own age trying to do the right thing. As class begins the lights go out the music starts, rap music, and I wonder how this ever came to be? Me? I’m barely conscious anyway and I figure I can endure almost anything for forty minutes.

The youngest person in the room, by far, is the instructor, who is also the only one apparently enjoying the music. I can’t help but notice several bikers wearing huge earphones cranked up loud enough I can actually hear Mozart playing over the top of 2Pac. When the instructor opens her mouth, insult is instantly added to injury.

“Hey Jeanie,” screams the instructor into the dark room, “where are you at?”

Hmmm, I think to myself. –A grammar savant…

Many mornings we are treated to pity pearls of wisdom from our instructor like, “If you want it (more resistance on the pedals), add it!” All I want to add right now is a few more hours of sleep.

“Stand it up, sit it down!” Stand what up? Are we folding chairs?

“Toes up, heels down!” Oh, you mean like in a casket? I’m halfway there!

“I can tell you’re only pretending to work! Crank up that resistance!” I’m quickly developing a resistance to spin class. I hear the woman on the bike next to me mutter, Who peed in her Cheerios this morning?

“I’m not axing you to work harder,” the instructor yells, “I’m TELLING you!”

Axing? Really? Does spinning cause brain damage?

While a little sarcasm goes well with the hot coffee you’re not drinking during spin class (or because of it) there is no denying the benefits of a good spin workout.

Even the largest profiles in the class even-

tually glisten with sweat and large dark areas begin to appear and spread on the backs I’m watching between the instructor and me. Someone soon gets off his or her bike just long enough to switch on a fan with the motor of a B-57.

According to the American College of Sports Medicine, the benefits of spin are substantial. It has many of the same cardiovascular benefits as running without the potential trauma to joints sometimes plaguing runners. It is usually a group activity, which can help in motivation. It’s easier to go back to bed when you know you’re not accountable to anyone else.

People who spin get use to showing up regularly, and when someone is missing, it is noticed. Spinning regularly can result in lower stress levels, increased muscular endurance, a great calorie burn, lower blood pressure and a reduced risk of coronary artery disease.

Eventually I developed a different attitude toward even the most rotund of my spinning compatriots. They may not be losing much weight, but in a world that often seems based on mere words and broken promises, these people are there, on their bikes every morning at 5:00am. If it’s raining, they are there. If it’s going to be 116 degrees, they are still there. If buildings are rumbling on top of earthquakes, they are still there. If Woody Allen’s famous words are even remotely true, “Eighty percent of success is showing up,” then these people are my heroes.

The best part was when one of my 20-something sons tried a spin class for themselves. I wasn’t there to see it, but I remember him saying something about limping back to his car and calling in sick that day.

Getting into a regular spinning class may not equip you to enter triathlons or summit Mt. Everest, but it does dial you into a habit of healthy living. Returning to the gym day after day for spin class at 5:30 a.m. is even environmentally friendly. Suddenly, you’re “recycling.”

Northern California’s Sport, Fitness and Outdoor Magazine

Sign up for your free subscription today at www.ActiveNorCal.net

NORCAL

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

45

nightlife

One Sol for the Soul

BY Steven A. Marcuz

It’s 10:17 pm on a Wednesday night and four young men sit in a small, modern room in the middle of downtown Redding staring at two computer screens displaying squiggly lines and graphs. To the untrained eye it looks like gibberish.

To musicians, this is the completion of their art.

Roman Gutierrez wears headphones as he sits in a tiny room with only a stool, a microphone and holding a piece of paper with loosely typed lyrics. He sings each word into the microphone over and over again while others in the room next door obsess over every nuance and detail, making sure they get the exact sound they hear in their respective heads. Every note and word of the song is analyzed. Why try to make music if it’s not perfect?

This is One Sol, one of Northern California’s newest “reggae style” bands recording their newest album set to launch in early 2014. Their music is described as “a fusion of reggae, rock, blues, and whiteboy funk,” — or as they call it, NorCal Reggae/Rock. The band consists of four local musicians: Matt Wilson on bass, Derick Frank slamming the drums, Gutierrez

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on guitar and lead vocals and, the newest member, Josh Mider on keyboard.

Their story might be similar to something you’ve heard on VH1’s “Behind The Music.” One Sol’s inception is a tale of luck.

Wilson and Frank were longtime friends and jammed together in high school playing the cover songs of alternative bands like Toadies and Smashing Pumpkins.

While the two are fond of their musical beginnings, they were a rag-tag group not even able to recall the names of the first few bands they formed. When Frank went to work at a local Subaru dealership, he met Gutierrez. Turns out they had a lot in common, especially music.

At the time, Gutierrez was discovering a passion for reggae music, a genre not typically found in local bands. “I was listening to a lot of Rebelution, Sublime and the Marley’s,” Gutierrez said. “These guys funk it up.”

Reggae was not Wilson and Frank’s first choice. They enjoyed alternative rock and 90s grunge, but slowly got into the not-somainstream genre of reggae. “We were just happy to play,” admitted Wilson.

The trio began to play consistently, even doing a lot of local shows at wine bars where they would play acoustic cover songs. When they decided to write original material, Gutierrez wrote lyrics to a song called “Disappear.”

We don’t want to disappear without your warning. We don’t want to disappear without your fight. We’re going to stay strong together, yeah. We’re going to party like we fight, goes the song. “Disappear’s” creative process set the tone for how the band would operate during the construction of their first album.

The process was an organized, yet chaotic convergence of musical influences. Gutierrez writes the lyrics and creates a simple, acoustic foundation for each song. Once he brings that sample to the band, Wilson adds his bass and Frank includes the percussion. Then they, “jam through it until they like it,” and a song is born. “‘Disappear’ was important because it was the first time I adapted to reggae,” recalls Wilson. “As a bassist, I had to learn there is a lot of repetition. I had to keep it simple.”

They typically arrive in their infamous gutted yellow school bus with lounge chairs and a table for comfortable travel and parties.

From left: One Sol jamming at Mt. Shasta Ski Park; One Sol: (Left to right) Derick Frank, Matt Wilson, Roman Gutierrez, Josh Mider; Producing an album can be a long, tedious process. Here a producer reviews the vocals of a song from One Sol’s second album.

From there they produced fan-favorites like “Freedom Fighter,” “Thank You” and “Live For Today” to complete their nine-track album. These songs gave them a solid collection of music and a strong start.

When asked what their favorite part of being in One Sol is, the answer was resounding, “Playing live music,” said Frank. “Yeah,” agreed Gutierrez, “playing live. Watching people dance and feeding off the energy of the crowd.” “Playing live is the most fun. With the crowd, it’s like a high,” added Wilson.

One Sol has played local venues like Bombay’s, Maxwell’s and Marketfest in the Downtown Promenade. They’ve also appeared around Northern California playing at Mt. Shasta Ski Park, City Of Trees Outdoor Festival in Sacramento and Reggae At The Riverview.

They typically arrive in their infamous gutted yellow school bus with lounge chairs and a table for comfortable travel and parties. It may not rival the luxury of Willie Nelson’s tour bus, but for One Sol, it has become both a mascot and the buttend of light-hearted jokes and puns.

While you probably won’t get any Ozzy Osbourne-esque rock-and-roll anecdotes from this band, their stories from the road get the band members reminiscing as any group of friends might. Their recollection of one particular show in Westwood, California really gets them laughing.

“We played in this little bar called the Moonlight Bar and Grill,” said Frank. “It was a great atmosphere,” Gutierrez added.

“At the end, the owner of the bar gave us the key to lock up, and we slept on the floor.”

Gutierrez, Frank and Wilson were the core of One Sol, but following their first album they recognized a need to evolve and mature as a band. They took out an ad on Craigslist for a keyboard player; enter Josh Mider.

Hearing One Sol with and without Mider was astounding. First there was the simplicity of the original band’s music, and suddenly a complex keyboard influence was added. The contrast is like the difference between a young wine versus an aged, complex wine. Both are good, but one is great. It was a perfect storm.

“The first and second album will be different because our content has matured into a dynamic sound,” explains Gutierrez. “But we also stayed true to our style by trying to be undefined by a genre and bringing all of our musical influences to the table.”

The different personalities of the band make for great chemistry and entertainment at live shows as well as in the studio.

Gutierrez is the lead man, a handsome showman and dedicated musician. Frank is a fun-loving, gentle-giant percussionist who is the product of a musical family.

Wilson is the not-so-punctual bassist who is never at a loss for extreme sarcasm.

Mider is the quiet new-guy, who lets his music speak for itself.

The band wants to develop their music while continuing to spread a “do it yourself” message. Like any young band, going on tour and opening for bigger bands would be ideal. But for One Sol, they are happy being able to play great music with friends.

Do you want to categorize this band into a specific genre? It’s not recommended. One Sol, meaning “one sun,” can easily describe how the band approaches their music. “It means we are all together as a band, but also individuals,” explains Gutierrez. “That’s how we approach our music.”

One Sol’s new album will be released in early January. For more information or a list of their upcoming shows go to onesolband.com or visit their Facebook page.

NORCAL

January/February 2014 Active NorCal

47

Fishing

Coming home Chronicle of a Trinity River Steelhead

By Chip O’Brien

She was late getting back to the Trinity this year, at least later than a lot of the others. They returned during the bluebird days of October and November. Now it was January, cold and rainy. The river was swollen and off-color, but in prime condition for spawning fish. This was her fourth trip up the Trinity, and probably her last. She was heading for the very riffle in which she was born. “She” is a wild Trinity River steelhead.

Over the last year she had gotten around. After laying eggs and tending last year’s nest, she migrated back out to the Pacific last May. Normally she would have headed for the open ocean, but this year she went north up the inland Canadian coast, the Inside Passage. She had been there before. The waters were teeming with forage fish as well as crustaceans and succulent squid. She just couldn’t resist, and continued putting on weight.

Like salmon, steelhead possess the extraordinary ability to sense their native rivers from more than a thousand miles away in the open ocean. When it is time to spawn, they need no directions. Humans have tried and failed to understand this without success, and even the best GPS units cannot compare with a steelhead’s innate ability to find home. Every steelhead knows where home is.

Their bodies change in preparation for the trip. The rich ocean smorgasbord transforms their bodies almost like freakish, steroid-gulping humans. Steelhead become long, thick, hard and sometimes misshapen while taking a dim view of lessor creatures; meaning everything that’s not a steelhead. Adult steelhead know no fear.

Approaching the continental shelf the waters became more crowded as if the world were being compressed, and there was more food though the moving

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Active NorCal January/February 2014

fish took less interest in it. Their sensitive bodies detected the falling salinity as more and more fresh water mingled with the deep blue. There was an ever-growing taste of home in the water.

The pulse of steelhead passed through the gauntlet of boats and lines and trash off the coast and evaded (most) the quick, deadly moves of sea lions. There was a subtle increase in the current, a force conspiring to deny access to the places the steelhead needed to go, and the resistance triggered a deep resiliency in them. Any one of them would gladly die rather than give in to the relentless current of the river. Some would.

The water was eventually all fresh and the taste familiar. From here on the journey will be much more physically taxing.

Hoopa, Willow Creek, Salyer and Burnt Ranch were behind them now. There are waterfalls and fast chutes of current bashing their bodies on rocks. The fish mainly traveled under cover of darkness and might swim as many as ten miles in a night, spending the daylight hours seeking calmer waters and rest.

On that particular January morning the great fish passed through Weaverville, and an angler from Cottonwood stumbled into his pickup truck braving the dark, wet and cold. The fish was heading toward the upper river while the angler was pointing his truck toward a spot his father had shown him many years before.

This time the man had his own young

son in tow and he wanted meat, a lovely steelhead to barbeque for his family that evening. He knew the angling regulations for the Trinity were tricky, so a worn copy of the booklet lived in his truck.

Though he preferred gear fishing most of the time, the water he wanted to fish was perfect for flies. It wasn’t even fully light out when his fly line stretched out over the water, paused for an instant, then plunk, dropped a purple woolly bugger into the water. Thirty pairs of steelhead eyes watched in the darkness. Fins twitched. A few more casts were made, and the purple fly swung closer and closer to the pod of steelhead.

Inside the greatest of these fish, a deep welling of anger was building. The purple tormentor was aggravating the big hen beyond measure like a mosquito in a dark tent. At almost thirteen pounds, she was one of the larger steelhead in the system.

The fly came again and again, each time fanning the primordial fires of aggression.

The fly hit the water again, and a halfpound steelhead lunged for it triggering an explosive head-butt from the big fish as if to say “Back off! This is my kill!”

The fly completed its swing unmolested. The big fish knew there would be no escape for that fly next time; only there was no next time.

“Well,” said the man to his son hunkered down on the bank trying not to freeze, “I guess there are no fish in this run. Let’s move on.”

NORCAL

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