Visiting Winter Wonderland: Cross Country Skiing at Caples Creek

 

 

Date: February 15, 2023

Place: Kirkwood, California

Coordinates: 38.703589, -120.072097

Length: Job's Jaunt:1 mile, Caples Creek: 3 miles

Level: moderate

 

 

Last month I managed to find a day with nothing on my schedule and a forecast of clear sky, so i told Pappa Quail that I'm taking the day off and going up to Kirkwood to ski. I had my downhill skies in the car but already on the way I started having divergent thoughts in my mind. When I approached Kirkwood and saw how strong the wind was, those divergent thoughts solidified into a decision. I passed the main entrance to the Kirkwood resort, and continued on hy88 for a quarter mile longer, then turned left into the cross country ski area. 

 It has been a long time since I skied cross-country. In fact, it has been 8 years. I decided it was time to go at it again, and ventured further into the beautiful snowy scenery of the Sierra Nevada mountains. 

The Kiddy Loop and Job's Jaunt

 

 After a couple of runs around the kiddy loop to get myself reacquainted with going on cross country skies I headed up to Job's Jaunt trail, a short, moderate groomed trail in the woods.  Not being sure of my stability on cross-country skies, I chose to leave my camera behind and take photos with my phone. 

Job's Jaunt Trailhead

I half expected winter wonderland to be still. It wasn't, of course. Despite the wind and the cold, there was wildlife activity all around me. Most of the activity was of birds, mainly chickadees with the occasional jay or raven.  Then there were the squirrels too. I didn't get photos of any of the animals - by the time I pulled my mittens off and had my phone camera on my would be subject had already hopped or flew away. All I got as evidence are the fresh squirrel tracks in the snow. 

Squirrel Tracks

For some time now I've been harboring the idea of going on a winter backpacking trip. Although snowshoeing would probably be my choice of travel, the thought of using cross-country skiing to traverse flat or mild downhill distances did come to my mind. Of course wilderness skiing wouldn't be the same as going on nicely groomed trail.

Job's Jaunt

The trail was perfectly groomed and there were no signs of anyone breaking it before me. I was the first skier to go there that day. I fishboned my way up the slope to the highest point of the loop and the view there was absolutely grand.

Along Job's Jaunt were a few post signs with historical information about the legendary US Post carrier, 'Snowshoe Thompson', who was the sole connector of information and mail delivery across the Sierra Nevada during the winter months in the time of the Gold Rush. Apparently his 'snowshoes' resembled more the cross country skies of our time.

The forest was thinner at the crest. The trees, nearly all conifers, looked nice and healthy. Despite the strong wind the trees seemed to be almost still. None of the trees had any snow in their canopies, time had passed since the last snow event. 

Job's Jaunt is only a mile long and even at my crawl speed skiing I made it down the final descent all too quickly. 

Thinking I could use a bit more practice I skied Job's Jaunt loop a second time, which is when I actually took the photos. After the second run I decided that I was ready for the longer loop of Caples Creek. 

 

Caples Creek Trail

 

 It was only half way up the first hill crest that I remembered to start my navigator again, so there's a third of a mile missing from the trail recording. Going uphill on skies is hard work and when I reached the top of the crest I was sweating and had to unzip my coat. It isn't a good idea to sweat when it's really cold outside, and the temperature was only slightly above freezing. 

I knew about the fire that raged in the area a couple of summers ago but seeing the charred remains of the forest on the snow-white background was jarring. The burnt patch here was relatively small, most of the forest along the loop trail was green and healthy looking. 

Going uphill on skies is hard work but coming downhill on cross-country skies was even harder for me. I'm a very mediocre skier and the cross country skies have much less control than the downhill skies I'm more familiar and experienced with. I didn't have the skill to do any sort of parallel turning or stopping with the long and thin cross country skies so I had to snow-plow my way on the downhill sections, wearing out my knees and thighs. When I finally reached the flat area surrounding Caples Creek (with only one fall, having caught an edge on a turn) I had to stand there for a while and catch my breath. 

When I felt I could move again I turned right to the Granite Rock loop. The map I was given at the rental center had the entire wilderness area east of Granite Rock closed off, but I don't think I would have gone there anyway - that area is for more advanced skiers. 

When I reached Caples Creek I had to pause again, this time in awe. I stood by the creek bank and admired the gorgeous sight of the calm, dark flow walled by two feet of pure snow. 

Caples Creek

 The flow was almost invisible. In fact, I could see the reflection very clearly on the surface, as if the water was standing. The sound of the flowing water however, gave it away. In the stillness of winter wonderland, the sound of the creek was like music to my ears. 

Caples Creek

I made my way around the Granite Rock loop without actually identifying what the 'Granite Rock' was. As I looped around I did recognize a familiar landmark - the three rocky 'horns' on top of the ridge to the west. This ridge towers right over Kirkwood Lake, where I've hiked in the past with my family and our friends. 

After completing the Granite Rock loop I continued west on the snowy plain toward the Beaver Pond Loop. By then I have already crossed paths with a handful of other skiers who moved on the snow with much more skill and assurance than me. Most of the time however, I was still very much alone. 

It was past noon and I was feeling hungry. I had my backpack with water and snacks but I didn't see any place where I could sit comfortably to have a lunch break, so I continued on westward. 

The Beaver Pond Trail is a narrow, little loop at the west end of Caples Creek loop trail. Entering Beaver Pond Trail I was once again in skiing in the forest, and along the beautiful Caples Ceek. 

Caples Creek

A fellow passed me quickly, gliding on his skies as if he was born on them. Behind him followed a mid size brown dog that reminded me of Disney's Pluto. The dog paused to sniff me but his owner called him and the dog continued galloping down the trail. In less then a minute, both man and dog vanished around the curve, and I continued my crawl-skiing after them. 

By that time I was very hungry. I was also feeling tired and needed a break. I looked for a fallen log that I could sit on, but there were none close enough to the trail, and I didn't want to wade in the deep snow with the rental ski shoes. When I completed the Beaver Pond trail loop and faced the uphill way back to the lodge I gave up on finding a comfortable sitting place, and I sat on the snow at the edge of the trail, and pulled the food out of my backpack. 

Reflection in Caples Creek

A couple of elderly skiers passed me while I was sitting there. They too were on their way back to the lodge. We exchanged greetings and impressions and I watched them as they made their way uphill, envying the apparent ease in which they did so. 

When I finished my lunch break I felt invigorated and ready to get going up the hill crest. Going uphill on skies can be done by either very slow and tedious side-stepping, or by 'fishboning', named so by the ski tracks left in the snow by pushing each ski sideways in an angle with each step. 'Fishboning' is much faster and more efficient, but also requires a great deal of fitness and stamina. Thankfully, the uphill stretch wasn't all that long. I was very proud of myself for having stopped for only one short break on the way up. 

The last bit of the Caples Creek loop trail overlaps the Job's Jaunt loop. By then I was considerably more confident on the cross country skies, and I let myself slide downhill with much less snow-plow dig. 

 

It was around two thirty when I finished my day in winter wonderland by Kirkwood. For a moment I entertained the thought of maybe going to the slopes of the downhill ski area, but after i returned my rentals and made it back to my car I realized that I had only one hour eft before they's close the lifts, so I resigned to going back home. 

 I drove away into the sunset (literally) with the conviction of doing this again, even if it means giving up a day or two of downhill skiing opportunity. Passionate downhill skiers might not understand this. Cross-country is hard work, and not even remotely as thrilling as downhill ski. It is however, greatly rewarding on other levels. For an avid hiker as me, cross-country skiing opens up trails that would otherwise be either inaccessible or harder to traverse during the winter season. For me it is a way to immerse in a part of Nature that is otherwise reserved to the chickadees and the squirrels, and the silent firs. It is another door that's available to me when I venture into winter wonderland.