Around Dunsmuir

I saw light coming through my window this morning and got out of bed.  The outside thermometer read forty-five degrees, and the sky was overcast.  As every morning, I went first to 

http://forecast.weather.gov/MapClick.php?lat=41.408745858020545&lon=-122.19955444335937&site=mfr&smap=1&marine=0&unit=0&lg=en 

Rhododendron

for the forecast at elevation 12,000 feet on Mt. Shasta.  Wind speeds are less there than at the summit of 14,179 feet, and temperatures are warmer, but it’s the best science offers.  

I don’t care so much about today’s forecast, but rather the following two days when I would be high on the mountain if I began today.  And science said:

“Friday: Mostly sunny, with a high near 27.  West wind increasing to 70 mph, gusts as high as 115 mph.

“Friday Night: 20 percent chance of snow after 11pm. Mostly cloudy, with a low around 13.  West wind around 55 mph, with gusts as high as 95 mph. 

“Saturday: 20 percent chance of snow after 11am.  Mostly sunny, with a high near 26. Northwest wind 65 mph, with gusts as high as 95 mph.”    

I cannot imagine trying to climb a steep icy slope in wind of a hundred miles per hour.  The forecast has been similar all five days that I have been here.  I think it helps to explain why only a third of those attempting the summit succeed.  They come here for a week or less and hope for decent weather; and as their time draws to an end, they start climbing in marginal conditions, hoping for a break, only to turn back when they see it looks silly to go on.  They may be better climbers than I am, but I have an advantage.  I am here for a month, and will not start with less than a really good forecast.  I might get turned back by something unpredicted, but my starting odds will be good.

California Black Oak

Dunsmuir City Park
and Botanical Garden

And so I wait, and visit places close to Dunsmuir.

Dunsmuir

Dunsmuir began in 1886 when a railroad came snaking up the Sacramento River Canyon looking for gold and a way to harvest douglas fir trees.  It has always been a railroad town, and several trains a day still come with their brakes squealing down the river, or with their engines straining on the upgrade.  Antique steam engines and cabooses rest in display about town.  This weekend, the town celebrates “Railroad Days” with much fanfare to honor its steaming past and its small-town tourist-drawing, country music present.  I might try to be a country girl for a couple of days and take in the festivities.

Hedge Creed Falls

Sacramento River

Squeezed into a narrow canyon, the town is long and narrow, with easy escapes into the forest and steep, rocky slopes on both sides.  Hedge Creek Falls is just north of the town, and the River runs through it from north to south.

I stay in this modest-looking lodge in the downstairs unit on the left.  It’s quietly set between the town’s one main street and the railroad, so I hear little from either.  Beyond the railroad is the river, and it also respects my desire for quiet.

Douglas fir, left
California black oak, right 

The rare Shasta lily
is not blooming yet
but I hope for it
as for Shasta itself