I’ve never spent much time in the more northern parts of California, save for a flop of a summit attempt and a few days in Lassen Volcanic National Park. It’s only 4.5-5 hours away, nearly the same amount to drive to Yosemite Valley, Tuolumne Meadows or Mammoth. Over the Martin Luther King weekend, I tried to rectify this with a trip to Mount Shasta, both a city and a breathtaking, mystical mountain.
Let me tell ya something about me. I don’t like breaking the rules… much. There’s something about it that just gives me the heebie jeebies, like I’m going to get caught and be punished to the full extent of the law and I’ll rot in jail forever or something. I know, I know, it’s a bit extreme. That’s how I felt about hiking Mossbrae Falls.
I reached out to a few friends on things to do in the Mount Shasta area. The one thing everyone suggested was the McCloud Falls trail.
The McCloud Falls trail is an easily accessible, family friendly hike. Out and back, the trail is about 3.5 miles long with a little over two hundred feet of elevation gain. The trail visits three tiers of waterfalls on the McCloud River.
Even with ski resorts closing their doors for the season and uncharacteristically warm weather in the Bay Area, winter is still very much alive and kicking in the Sierra. After a short day of wrestling pebbles and battling high winds on Hogsback at Lovers Leap, Josh and I called it quits and decided to go catch a sunset somewhere.
We always talk about sunset, but by the time the sun starts to go down, we’re maybe still stuck on a route, or bouldering stoke is high, or we’re in the midst of preparing dinner. We headed east on highway 50 with Lower Echo Lake in mind, something nice and easy that we could drive up to and relax at.
The rain doesn’t stop on the West Coast of New Zealand. It pours and pours and pours. My trip onto the glacier was canceled due to inclement weather. Shoes were still still soaking wet.
The giant bed in the hostel welcomed me with loving arms. My desire to lay around was very, very high. I thought about walking all the way out to Lake Matheson, but with the previous day’s soaking excursion still in mind, I wussed out and paid an old man a few dollars to drive me there and back.