Day 2, Gray Eagle Lodge to Willow Creek Campground, 45 miles

The day began with a spinach omelette, juice, coffee and toast - a real treat.  Len and I picked up where we left off the afternoon before, climbing Gold Lakes Road, another 1000+ feet.  We were rewarded at the top by several beautiful small lakes including Lily Lake and Snag Lake (the latter probably named by some infuriated fisherman.  Wild flowers adorn the roadside including Queen Anne’s Lace (the only one I can name), reminding me of the lines in a Dylan song “… Purple clover, Queen Anne’s Lace, Crimson hair across your face … Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.” a favorite of mine. Riding on a little further revealed a magnificent view of the Sierra Buttes.  Thus began the reward for the long climb of the previous afternoon and the following morning - a 10 mile downhill run.  At the bottom of Gold Lakes Road we turn on to highway 49, the Golden Chain Highway.  At the junction is the wonderful Bassett’s general store, an oasis for intrepid cyclists riding the road over Yuba Pass or arriving, as we did, via Gold Lakes Road.

Highway 49 traverses the Sierra foothills from Oakhurst, south of Yosemite to the intersection with highway 70 in Sierra Valley, passing through places like Calaveras County made famous by Mark Twain.  It is often narrow and very tortuous, but beautiful.

We follow the canyon carved by the Downey River through little towns like Sierra City and Downieville, the latter the Sierra County Seat. It’s a town of about a dozen little shops on the 1/2 block main street.  There we see the “Jesse and Joseph Molina” memorial bench.  Len and Toby have switched driving responsibility and the inevitable climbs along a road following a river in a deep canyon begin.  Each climb is rewarded by a longer downhill as we descend the west slope of the Sierra.  A bend in the river shows us an osprey hunting its morning meal and as we progress, more wildflowers.

Top of the climb has an historical marker for the Jalabert placer mine.  It is now a swamp with rusted mining equipment from the gold rush days.  The area was settled by French families who mined the Dowine River sentiment. 

Toby and I meet Len at Coyoteville (2 tarp-covered RVs and several tiny houses on the hillside) and I take over driving the last 15 miles (it’s a short day).  I arrive at Willow Creek Campground located on highway 49.  It’s in a deep canyon and is traversed by a small creek.  It’s a bit run down, but nothing like a place we stayed on a previous ride in Happy Camp, CA - the place in Happy Camp advertised itself as “voted the best rural campground on the west coast.”  What a dump! Full of scary people too. Was Willow Creek really a campground?  Looked like a few old RV’s made it up the hill and came to rest in this place.  One end of the campground had a cabin straight out of “Deliverance.”  The other end had a Chavelle in the process of being painted in flat black, one spray can at time, as many times as the owner comes up with the $5.95/can.