Trip Date, November 21, 2015
Find this SpotSometimes, things just come together. Kristen and I had gone on our Big Foot trip in early October and had walked past the Eagle Creek Ranch which was right across the creek from the Ripple Creek Cabins where we had stayed. For about a quarter of a mile of Eagle Creek Loop road, the old Cedar fence posts had been replaced with a newer metal fence, leaving them to slowly deteriorate, fall over or kind of lean into the barbed wire that was mostly responsible for their staying erect. I had wondered if something could be done with them, instead of just leaving them to rot back into the earth – not entirely a bad thing, but seemingly a waste. I was enthralled with the old ranch and its intense history, and these old cedar fence posts seemed to be a fine relic of its glorious past.
The thought stayed with me long enough to recall it a week or so after we had been home. I took the time to send off a letter inquiring if the family/occupants would be willing to sell the posts for $1 apiece. I was thrilled to get a phone call from the lady who owned the ranch that I could keep my dollar, as long as I also removed the wire and the staples. I returned her call and we had a very nice chat. All seemed to be moving forward.
That same day, I went down to a feller on a piece of the old Mather Air Force Base in Rancho Cordova. I had to call him outside the massive yellow gates and old cyclone fence topped with copious amounts of barbed wire. This was obviously a place not many people were able to gain access to. I waited for a few moments until I saw the old Dodge dually 4×4 rolling down the dirt road to the fence. Out came Woody of Woody’s Urban Forestry Products to open the gate and shake my hand. Accompanied by his little doggy, I followed him past old bunkers, mostly demolished metal buildings, and concrete structures, out to three earthen covered reinforced, concrete Quonset huts. His portable mill was out in front and it was surrounded by a hundred or so logs – many Redwood, Oak, Cottonwood, Pine, and many others I couldn’t identify without closer scrutiny.
This was an awesome place – wide open, other than the scattered buildings and various crumbling structures, there was nothing taller than a weed for hundreds of yards; beyond that was a few trees, the end of the golf course, and nothing else but big open sky. It was incredibly quiet, and of course, a perfectly warm, clear calm, sunny day, but here you were, just outside of town, on what used to be one of the world’s most powerful air force bases, still in fact behind locked gates and barbed wire, surrounded by huge tree logs and piles and piles of gorgeous sawn boards, planks, beams, and timbers. This wasn’t your run of the mill lumber yard; no 2×4’s or 2×6’s here. These were all custom sizes, shapes, and dimensions. This was a wood lover’s bonanza.
Talking to Woody was a kick. We laughed and swore and told stories. He cut my 2 – 4 foot long slabs in half, and although they were costly cuts, as most custom work is, being able to be at this place was well worth the cost. Unfortunately, the dark side (there is ALWAYS a dark side) suddenly emerged. People trespassing, through, around, and over the gates and fences, which in and of itself I would not necessarily be opposed to as I often rale against all the open spaces being fenced and gated preventing people from accessing it. However, about a quarter of Woody’s logs had been burned in a fire intentionally set. The fire was so hot, it warped the massive steel doors on one of the Quonset huts, which he now can’t get in to. He also has had all kinds of equipment; saws, planers, generators and woodworking equipment stolen. After a while, it takes the joy away and sure enough, just as we were talking a truck was driving inside the perimeter. He had to stop what he was doing, get in his tuck and drive out to the vehicle, hunt around as the guy was now on foot and hiding, eluding him in and out of the buildings – it was nuts. As some point, he had to give up the chase to come back and get back to his work. But he has been snuck up on and surprised to find people right behind him as he was bent over a saw and confronted by people feeling like they had a right to be there, despite the signs, and postings making it very obvious that was not the case.
As we looked out over the property, he noticed a huge section of the perimeter fence had been knocked down – about twenty feet across – like someone had just driven their truck through and knocked down the fencing. It was perhaps a 100 feet from another spot someone else had done the same thing. Woody had hauled a half a dozen or so logs out to that spot to block the access point. This place was beginning to lose its charm. I said goodbye to Woody, sincerely hoping that I would return with a load of cedar fence posts from Eagle Creek Ranch that I could have him mill into 1×4 for a trellis and some heavy timbers for an arbor, but I may have gotten ahead of myself.
Having Fridays off, I do try to be considerate of Kristen (but none of you other suckers) having to work 5 days a week. But, as usual, I wanted to leave early Saturday morning. We had a long drive, and even though this was just a scouting trip, to count the posts, get an idea of their size and dimensions, and to check to see how sound/solid they were, we were going to turn around Sunday and drive all the way home and then start another work week early Monday morning, so I didn’t want to get it all off to a late start. Kristen went to her mom’s after work Friday night and was there fairly late. I thought about pushing back our desired departure time from 8:00, but I had most of what we needed organized, had gas and all my stuff fairly well laid out and organized.
She was in pretty good spirits when she arrived back home, so I stuck with the plan, fully expecting to be getting out of the driveway about 9:00, an hour late as usual. However, we slept well, and got up in plenty of time to do what we needed to do and were in the truck about 8:04. We blasted up I-5 at 80 miles an hour and were in Anderson in no time. I took a side road, 273, out of Anderson near the outlets. This was a good side trip since I hate the Interstate 5/Highway 299 exchange through Redding. This road had a few stop lights but then opened up and passed quite a few interesting businesses, shops, flea markets, and various sites along the way. A much more interesting drive than staying on 5 to 299 West.
I recognized Buenaventura Blvd so we took it and it brought us way out West near the edge of the city limit, avoiding all that stretch of driving through Redding I hate. We stopped at a neat Holiday Market and bought a whole bunch of food and snacks and treats – good beer, good bread, and pie. I bought some lunch at the hot food counter and K went next door to the Burrito Bandito. Both choices were horrendous and we paid the price with stomach aches for quite some time. We headed up the still super twisty turny 299 West up and over Buckhorn Summit. We took Trinity Dam road all the way to the dam this time because we never saw any lake last trip up here – almost no water at all in fact, but a few trickles of creeks out in the massive expanse of rocky lake bottom. Behind the dam was a lake, perhaps 2 miles long depending on how shallow a draft your boat had. Beyond that, the big bay towards Pinewood Cove and Ridgeville were nonexistent, and the main arm of the lake that stretches to the North was a trickle a few feet wide at Captains Point. It was stunning to see how little water was in the “reservoir”. I was glad we took the time to stay on the “Dam Road” to get a better look at the water levels, but now it was time to make some time and get up to the cabin.
We were pulling up in front of the Eagle Creek Ranch a couple hours later, around 2:00 to meet Linda and check out these fence posts I had become so excited about. A young woman answered the door and said she would get Linda. We waited on the porch in the sun, soaking up the Fall colors, absorbing the sun, and enjoying the setting. Linda came around the corner to greet us very friendly and warm, happy for the visit and the socializing. We talked for a few minutes and then K and I drove down the road to see our treasure.
I was immediately disappointed. My imagination had definitely gotten the better of me. The posts were much smaller than I had recalled/hoped, and much less sound. I counted roughly 125 posts as we slowly drove by; I am sure several/many more were lying on the ground or obstructed by brush and trees. However, when we inspected the posts up close, I could see that they would not be usable for the higher end posts/boards I hoped to get out of them. In a perfect world, I could get a few 4 foot 6×6 posts and then as many 4’1×4 boards as I could use. However, I could see pretty quickly, these posts would not be worth milling into any boards or lumber; they were art project, bird house type material – not what I was hoping for or needing for my projects.
I was pretty disappointed, but K and I had a great drive up; we were here on this incredible property we had all kinds of good food and drink for a yummy dinner; we were staying at the Ripple Creek cabins for the night; it was a sunny beautiful day; and there were tons of far less enjoyable things I could be doing. All in all, this wasn’t so terrible. I got changed into my work clothes and K and I had a beverage on the tailgate, soaking it all in. She drove back to the cabin to check in, unload and get changed. By the time she came back, I had scoped out the section of posts I wanted and had begun cutting out the barbed wire.
I had purposely chosen the posts that were furthest from the road – still not far and on flat easy ground. The brush was thicker than I had recalled and cutting out the barbed wire was taking a little time and effort. The Manzanita and black berries made me pay attention to where I put my hands and certainly the barbed wire needed to be entirely free from the posts and brush and grass because I couldn’t really rip it out without being reminded of the barbed parts of the wire. But still, it went fairly quickly, with great cool weather, and flat ground to work on.
By the time K returned, I had cut away the barbed wire from about 10 posts on one side of the access road, leaving the staples and some short lengths of wire attached to the posts. I set her to work gathering the wire and piling it near the truck. I went to the other side of the access road and cut wire from about 15 more posts, almost to a corner against the hillside. Before long, K was picking up the piles of wire I had assembled and we were working together to free the last of the posts. It was getting late in the afternoon, cooler, darker, and I felt like getting to the cabin and starting a fire and beginning our evening festivities. I was very much looking forward to hanging at the cabin and having a nice evening, but K was more interested in finishing now so we didn’t have to come back in the morning.
We were going pretty good, so we decided to push on to finish, and it was definitely the right decision. I began gathering the posts and loading them in the truck, having to make a final cut here and there to totally free the posts. K continued to gather the last strands of wire and in an hour or so we were finished, loaded, and had made a couple final passes along the prior fence line to make sure we got all the wire. It definitely felt good to be done so we didn’t have to return in the cold morning.
We were staying in cabin #3 this time, a smaller cabin that was closest to the Trinity River. I was pretty disappointed when I went inside to see no living room, only a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. Cabin #5 we stayed in last time, had a big living room with a kitchen table, couches, and chairs around a wood stove. We sat and read in there and had a real relaxing evening together. Without that living room, I was left to build a fire outside for the BBQ and hang out there in the cold. Poor me.
I bundled up, got a fire going and began to use what little evening light was left to explore around the cabin. There was a very nice cleared area for a picnic table, benches, a couple lounge chairs and table and the BBQ right off the deck. That area was surrounded with natural vegetation and some ornamental garden plantings, narrowing to a thin strip between the patio area and a large grassy opening beyond. That clearing brought in a lot of natural light and the sound of the river beyond the woods at the edge of the clearing. I wandered down a path, a bit dark and difficult to navigate now, but it soon brought me to the river and some steps leading down to a narrow sandy strip with chairs and tables. Much river rock had been moved to form a jetty arching out into the river, capturing enough water to form a pool, yet allowing the majority of water to flow freely down the natural channel. This was a very cool spot. I finished my Stout and hustled back to the cabin to get K.
As I approached the cabin, it was quite a bucolic image. The front of the tiny cabin was almost all glass, numerous small panes divided by white trim against the green cabin walls. Many of the corners and sides of the glass were blurred by condensation resulting from the warm kitchen on the other side. K was cooking and steam was rising from the stove as she went back and forth in the tiny kitchen. It was quite a comforting image. The pastoral setting was broken when K was expressing her reluctance to leave the stove and preparations, but my persistence paid off. She bundled up and traipsed down the path with me.
Just then, the moon crested the mountain ridge to the East and lit the river up and light glistened from all the moisture in the air, on the ground, and on all the plants and trees. It made for a wonderful winter scene, and left no doubt that K had made the right choice to take a little break and walk down the path with me to the river. Back at the cabin, K went right back to work in the kitchen with her preparations. I added briquettes just to prolong the fire and to allow me to hang outside a bit longer; it was cold, but so very cool out there. I pulled one of the old Redwood chairs near the fire and put my feet up on the benches alongside the BBQ. Sipping on another Stout, I was very content.
Eventually, K came out with the hamburgers she had prepared and the yellow squash and corn and they were cooked in minutes. We gathered around the tiny table, now unable to see out the windows for all the condensation from the lower temps outside and the higher kitchen temps. We were already kind of full from the great French bread and cheese and beverages we already had, but the burgers were outstanding, so I forced those down. I had no room for pie so I excused myself from the table (after helping with the dishes of course…didn’t I?) and rolled into the bed just a few feet away.
The cool thing about this tiny cabin was that it had a wood stove in the bedroom. I forced myself to make a little fire in the tiny stove, and soon was fast asleep. The rest of the night was mostly tossing and turning, trying to moderate my temperature, and stay comfortable, but morning came pretty early; K was not happy about it. But, I made another fire in the stove and we lay in bed watching the fire, getting the room warmed up, and watching the morning light brighten the outside. It was pretty nice.
We were super happy we didn’t have to work with the posts any more, and kind of ready to get on down the road. We (meaning K) cleaned up while I showered. We still hadn’t paid for the cabin since when K came back yesterday, there was a note that just said pay us when you see us, so as we were driving out, we saw a lady raking the leaves. This place is the most raked around on the planet – other than maybe the sand meditation gardens in Japan. But here, there is nary a stray leaf in the midst of the forest and often the paths are marked with intensely symmetrical circular designs, presumably left from the measured strokes of the raker.
I pulled alongside the lady and K mentioned to her we still needed to pay, however, she was intent on continuing her raking and didn’t want to be interrupted for financial matters, so she suggested we call her daughter, the mysterious Meghan, when we get home. It is great to be at places that are still trusting and human and mellow like this. So, off we went, to the horse trailer recycling center to properly sort our dendrites. Then it was across the creek 100’ or so down the road to talk to Linda.
I had decided in one thousandth the time I had spent inflating my imagination of the size and condition of the posts to not come back to get any more. I wanted to let Linda know, even though K wanted me to just call her when we got home. We knocked at the door and out she came in a sweater on this 37 degree morning. She seemed to know what we were going to say, so was not at all surprised or interested in making any effort to change our minds or reconsider. She went right into another story or 30 ranging from medical care, to Hmong pot growers, to the Cleveland clinic, to climate change and back again. We (meaning she) spoke for almost an hour, but it was really cool to be up on the porch with her, looking out over the garden and landscaping and on down the road to the barns and the pasture.
She had a lot of energy and experiences and could recall so many stories and intersections of so many lives. It really was fun to listen to her, but it was time to get on down the road. We took advantage of a gap and bode her farewell. In no time I was thinking of our route and discussing with K the choices we had. We recalled the last trip and laughed about how rude the proprietors of the Bumble Bee restaurant were as we passed by. We laughed as we took the correct turn onto Rush Creek road instead of the 100 yard long Rush Creek Road we took last time. We again laughed at the “Jug and Plug” store in Lewiston. I tried to convince K that I could fit a root ball in the back of the truck from along Highway 299 below Berry Summit where all the construction is happening. We laughed at the awful lunch we had the day before as we crossed over Buenaventura Blvd. to drop onto Route 273 South.
We don’t seem to be able to find any Giants or Niners stations on I-5 until we get to about Williams, but we were able to pick up the Raiders broadcast of their Sunday morning game. Fortunately they lost so that made the ride quite pleasant as we ripped down the highway. Fortunately, by about Williams, we picked up the Niners broadcast and they were hanging in the game until we got home around 2:30. Of course they ended up losing, but they lost by less than they were expected to lose by so all in all it represented a sort of win in a season like this. I felt kind of the same way about the trip. I wasn’t going to make any money selling this high quality old growth historically valuable cedar; I wasn’t going to be able to mill it to use around the yard for my own projects; at best I will have some nice fire wood, but K and I had a good weekend and a great time working together and having an evening at the cabin, so all in all, it was a very rewarding trip.
Find this Spot
Eagle Creek Cabins Photo Gallery
