I waited for my pain to go down, and finally decided to target Thursday, August 4'th for my first bikeride in weeks, since the temperature was going to be around 32˚C, or 89.6˚F. Since I was on my own in terms of my biking into the mountains because of my dad's concussion from his fall off a sawhorse on a palette on a forklift, I knew that the large meadow west of Grizzly Hill, and the former "mud lake" pond would take so long to get to, that my hiking would be a bit limited, so I was reluctant to go there. But now, since I needed to limit my hikes anyways, I decided to target that area, as well as check out my Crescent Road pond sinking spot, although I wouldn't have time to do any sinking, and I didn't want to take any chances with bare feet, given the condition of my toe.
I left at 8:10 am under sunshine, and some time around 10:15 am, just when I got close to the beginning of the climb out of the valley, just before the pavement ended, I found that my bike was swaying from side to side, and it seemed bouncier than normal.
I gave myself a day of rest before going again, on Saturday, August 6'th, exactly one month after my previous bikeride. So, instead of my bikerides going from 2 weeks apart to 1 week apart, they went to a month apart!
I left home around 8:15 am, and discovered that my head under my hat under my new helmet was quickly baking before I got out of the valley, making me almost dizzy until I started to feel a cooler wind out of the west as I climbed. I was happy that I was finally on my way into the mountains, and found that there were lots of cattle on the road as I got further up the climb, including one white calf that was separated from the herd, but kept running in the direction I was going, away from the herd, until it finally moved off to the side, and I passed. There was another herd further down the road, but I was uncertain if it was the right one.
Some time before 1 pm, I reached my first destination, the Crescent Road pond. I was concerned about cattle being there, since I saw their tracks all over the road, but none were at the pond when I got there. I took my camera with me, and walked carefully through the grass to the pond, noticing that the water had dropped a fair bit. I was able to get closer to the pond, but still not too close, since the grass closer to the pond was still in the water. I found it difficult to keep from stepping on a high spot on my sore right side of my foot. It seemed as if the majority of my steps were on high spots on my bad toe.
I headed southward to my main sinking spot, to see what it looked like. Just as I had expected, it was nicely exposed, a large patch of gray ground that undulated and rippled as I jumped on the grass beside it. It looked soooooo inviting!
After putting my camera back away, I stuck my left hand into the edge of the mire, feeling its thick, gooey texture, like cooked pudding that had been cooled and congealed. Swamp gas was bubbling like crazy from my hand disturbing it, and the gooey stuff clung to my hand when I pulled it out. I wiped the mud of my hand, back into the spot where I had sunk it in, and then smoothed out the tiny disturbed spot I had disturbed, before finally cleaning my hands off in the wet, mossy ground amongst the grass. I jumped on the ground some more, watching how lines of ripples rolled across the surface. I wanted to try capturing that on video, so I jumped on the grass on the edge of the patch while aiming the camera at the mire at 1:07 pm, while it was recording. But, upon inspecting it afterward, I was disappointed to see that the video didn't pick up any of the rippling. Just a jumpy view of the patch of muck from my jumping with the camera. I could have mounted it on a stick, but didn't have time to do that. In fact, I never bothered to take any pictures of exposed shallower mud on the south end, because I had to get to my next destination, the large meadow west of Grizzly Hill, and the mud lake pond near that.
So, I returned to my bike with my right foot sore from all the unavoidable stepping onto high spots with the bad (right) side of my foot, no matter how much I tried not to. I was on my way, snacking on a couple of Pizza Pops for lunch. As I got closer to the area, I met a bunch of people on vehicles, including many on atv's coming down. I felt uncomfortable about people on those machines, since they always turned up in such remote roads when I least expected them.
I wasn't certain whether to take all the roads directly to the mud lake pond, allowing me a shorter hike, but a longer bike, or access it from the large meadow west of Grizzly Hill, which would mean ending my biking sooner, but would have a longer hike, which would be harder on my foot.
Some time after 2 pm, when I reached the turnoff into the bushes east of the large meadow, I turned onto it, and found the area I always took my bike down, although I took it into the bushes a little further south due to the trail I had used before being grown over, and not really visible. I grabbed a container of Kool-Aid, and headed through the forest to the meadow, taking care not to step onto any high spots. I never bothered to take any insect repellent hiking with me, since I wasn't going to stay still anywhere. I was happy to see that the ground and path leading into the meadow just damp, with no water, a good sign. I was hoping that the extra water from our heavy winter snowpacks melting this past spring, as well as a bit of rain this spring, would be too much for the beaver dams, and that perhaps the water levels would be lower from them giving way.
But, no such luck. In fact, the main pond in that meadow, which was divided by a beaver dam into a high part to the west and a low part with exposed mud to the east of it was now full on both sides! I did see an island of mud in the water, between two tufts of grass, but couldn't get into a good enough position to take a good picture of it, so I didn't bother. I carefully made my way through a line of willows to the north side, where I usually crossed a peaty gully below the dam, with low water. But, the gulley was full of water right up to the top as well! But, I found a new beaver dam that gave me an easy path across.
I headed through the meadow and willows to the hillside to the west, and followed it around to another pond, which is between the large meadow and the mud lake pond, which I called the "intermediate pond". It too was all high water, the way it has been for years.
Once I had moved far enough northwestward, I headed southwestward, through the willows, and into the grass. Unfortunately, the grass was standing in a bit of water, but at least my rubber boots weren't leaking. I tried to get as close to the pond as I could, but the water was getting too high, and once again, my sore toe kept on feeling pressure on it, making it hurt more. So, I took a good look from where I was, noticing how the grass that had grown over the mud flats years ago was gradually dying away, due to the depth of the water. So, the muddy bottom was slowly becoming bare again under the pond, and some day, if the water level dropped again, there would be lots of mud exposed again. But for now, the water levels were remaining the highest I had seen there, making it only worth one trip there per year to check it out.
But, while I was there, I heard the sound of a motor, and could hear someone on an atv or motorbike going down that road to the southwest of the pond!
I headed back, taking one shortcut over a hill, and backtracking through the large meadow, over the beaver dam, this time being more careful how I stepped. Once I was on the east side, I decided to check out the stream downstream from the main pond there, to see if there was anything interesting, although I wanted to get back to my bike to give my sore toe a rest. Heading northward, I did notice that beyond another beaver dam, the water level dropped enough to expose small patches of mud along the edge of the stream, but I never bothered to take any pictures of it, because it seemed not that significant. Further downstream, the water got progressively higher, and I stopped short of the next smaller pond, because I could see water into the grass, meaning nothing would be exposed there. I headed back to my bike, but had a little bit of trouble finding the original path, which was old and faded. I wound up just to the south of my bike, and headed north until I reached it. I then headed back home some time around 4 pm, stopping to take pictures of Columbian monkshood:
