The east slope of Fort Sage Mountain is now covered with cheat grass. June 7, 2018
If there was one positive aspect due to the lack of railroads in the region, was it delayed the appearance of invasive non-native plant species. The Russian Thistle, best known too many as the iconic “tumbling tumbleweed” did not make its appearance in Lassen County until 1914. The first plants were spotted along the Fernley & Lassen Railroad right-of-way. For the next two years, major efforts were undertaken to eradicate it, but it was a lost cause. The tumbleweed was followed next by an even more hazardous plant cheat grass. After the 2017 fire that spread from Doyle to almost Pyramid Lake, in many of the burned areas is covered with a thick growth of cheat grass, thereby choking out native plants.
The fire as seen from Willow Creek Valley. Courtesy of Lola L. Tanner
On Sunday, August 26, 1926, Charles Hurlbut, a Lassen County Road department employee had made a working camp on Rice Canyon Road. In the afternoon, he built a campfire, and left it unattended to gather more wood. In the interim, an erratic gust a wind blew threw, sending embers from the campfire onto nearby dry bronco grass. A wildfire quickly erupted. There was nothing Hurlbut could do, but to drive frantically to Susanville to enlist aid. Some sixty men were recruited to fight the fire. Half of the fire crew consisted of employees of the Red River Lumber Company, as the company owned a tremendous amount of timber in the district. From Susanville the fire was a spectacular sight for its residents, as most of the Antelope Mountain went up in flames. One interesting facet in battling the fire was the use of backfiring. Charley Carpenter, a prospector, had a cabin at Miner’s Spring on Antelope Grade. Carpenter seeing the fire raging towards his place, lit a fire in the approaching direction, and it was enough to divert it from destroying his home. In all, some 22,000 acres were burned, making it one of the largest fires of the era.
The firefighters were able to keep the fire away from the ranches at the lower end of the valley. However, one ranch, belonging to Bob Wilson was not so fortunate. Wilson lost his house, his barn containing seventy-five tons of hay and some two hundred chickens. For the Red River Lumber Company their loss was substantial too, an estimated fifteen million board feet of timber, and to the lesser extent the former Conklin holdings at Jacks Valley.
While on a tour with California State Parks OHV members one of the stops was at Wendel Dunes. If notice in the background, you can see the terrace effect from the receding waters of Lake Lahontan. One of the best examples is found just east of Flanigan at a spot known as Neversweat Hills.
Back in April, quite a few readers responded about items they wanted to learn more about. One topic was Lake Lahontan. Now, you are probably wondering why today’s featured photograph has anything to do with an ancient inland sea. Some 10,000 years ago, the lake was at its peak, then slowly began to recede leaving such remnant lakes as Honey and Pyramid. Had Susanville’s Elk Lodge existed back then, it would have been lakefront property.
When Lassen Peak came to life as an active volcano in the spring of 1914, it brought an avalanche of curisoity seekers to examine the mountain. At this time, the peak fell under the jurisdiction of the forest service. Attempts to discourage climbers were fruitless, after all there was only one ranger for the vast territory. What was rather remarkable there was one serious injury from a climber during a volcanic blast.
The winter of 1923-24 was one of the driest on record for the State of California. Springs that had always flowed, dried up. With the tinder dry conditions of the summer of 1924, it became a volatile fire year, and the Lassen region was of no exception.
On Monday, July 28, 1924, sparks from a steam donkey engine operating near Fruit Growers Camp D, just west of Eagle Lake. In less than a hour the blaze turned into a firestorm, spreading over four miles and destroying three steam donkey engines, eight railroad flat cars, one water tank car and about three miles of railroad track. Nearly one thousand men fought the fire that destroyed over 7,000 acres. It cost Fruit Growers $34,378.20 in suppression cost.
This is a follow up of last week’s post of Ada Gerking York’s memoirs. She also observed: “Eagle Lake contains two islands, Shag and Pelican, both of which are gradually being submerged by the rising of the water. These islands are the meeting places of various water birds; in early summer, one can imagine one’s dreams of gathering eggs, as there are so many lying there on the ground. The lake is very deep near Shag Island, the bottom has not been fathomed yet. The northern wing is not so deep and according to the account of a very old Indian, this part of the lake was dry many years ago, and he with a party of Indians crossed it while hunting deer, the ground being level as a floor.”
Boiling Springs Lake, 1908. Courtesy of the Sifford Collection
Well, here we are in the middle of July. Hopefully, many of you have gone exploring as there is just so much to see and do. Just in case, someone needs and idea to do some thing different, I recommend Boiling Springs Lake in Lassen Volcanic National Park. It is one of the largest hot lakes in North America. To make a day, contact Drakesbad Guest Ranch in advance to place a lunch reservation. From the lodge it is little over a mile hike to the lake, and you also have options. One can continue on and hike to Terminal Geyser or return back to the lodge and visit Devil’s Kitchen.
It is a rarity to come across early day descriptions of the various ice caves on the west side of Eagle Lake. The following account was a part of Ada Gerking York’s memoirs (1877-1936). She was raised in Willow Creek Valley and spent most of her married life in Grasshopper Valley.
”Eagle Lake is surrounded by many wonders, especially on the west side, great lava beds of which little is known. A great volcanic crack extends for ten miles; some places 10 to 15 feet deep, others bridged and so on. The place where I visited had a bridge upon which I went; I found a small hole in the ground and dropped a rock down. It struck far below then rolled, clattering among other rocks, fell again, and was some moments before all was quiet again. One of the party went into the crack and found an entrance to the cave under the bridge, but cannot be explored on account of its depth. Another time I visited the caves, how many I forgotten, and I think there are many yet unexplored; some of them had monstrous holes as openings, and in entering I found large rooms, some of which were exquisitely shaped. One known as “The Grottos” had many stalactites and stalagmites; some have more than one opening and some several apartments. One contains ice and is known as the Ice Cave and ice may be had any time of the year.”
In 1843, Pierson B. Redding gave the river and the Native American tribe located there, the name Pit. Reading noted there were numerous “pits” along the river, and some could be hazardous to your health.
Then there is the small community of Pittville that is on the Lassen and Shasta county line. As to the spelling with the double “t” the Shasta Courier noted in 1900 that the only folks who spell Pit with a double “t” are the ones who do not know the history of the naming.
