Black Mountain ~ Snow Shoeing

• Hike Date: 3/13/21
• Location: Black Mountain – Yuba Pass
• Distance: 6.8 miles
• Elevation gain: 1700 feet
• Time: 6.5 hours
• Video: https://www.relive.cc/view/vwq1we7y4LO

Greetings fellow adventurers!

In the interest of full disclosure, this post is more of a story than a trail report.  I say that because, well, there was really no “trail” involved.  I tell the story because it not only involves an important lesson, but it’s funny as well…… I think.

Having had a few days of snow, the week prior to this adventure, and with little snow in the future forecast, a few members of my “tribe” decided this might be our last chance to snowshoe for the season.  With sun on the menu for Saturday, the plan was set for Jeff (our leader/organizer for the day) to take Jim, Deby, Karen and I on this excursion.  I was ever so pleased to learn my boyfriend, Chris, would also be joining us.  Jeff, Jim, Deby, Karen and I are all what one would refer to as “Peak Baggers”.  If there is a top, we want to get there.  We all have thousands of miles under our feet and have conquered Mount Whitney and the like.  Chris, although active and fit, has far less interest in cresting every peak than the rest of us.  Not everyone has a burning desire to always see what is up “there”…… I say pointing and squinting off into the distance as we often do.   That’s cool…. Everyone has their own jam.  This would be his third time on snow shoes, with me edging him out by maybe one additional trip.  In this arena……  We were both newbies.

Practicing my ability to “go with the flow,” and trusting Jeff’s expertise explicitly, Chris and I set off Saturday morning with little idea as to where we would end up, or to the extent of our upcoming adventure.  What we knew, was that Jeff had two options planned for us.  One hard and one…. Well…. Less hard.  Arriving in Nyack, we all gathered and after jointly deciding we were more interested in a “fun” day, than a “killer” day, we agreed on the “less hard” option.

Just up the road a bit, we gathered at Yuba Pass to gear up and begin our trek to Black Mountain.  Google it…… You won’t find anything on the mountain, much less on hiking it….. Or at least I didn’t.  Although All Trails shows minimal trail systems in and around this 6992-foot mountain, none of them are named or listed as “hikes.”  As is generally the case with snow shoeing, we would be trail blazing.  The good news for us….. the deeper you go into the back country, the less likely it is you will come across people.  Solitude.

It was a beautifully sunny day, and warm from the start.  We all stripped a few layers, knowing we would warm up quickly, and donned our snow shoes.  What we learned rather quickly, was that the recent snow had dropped many inches of “fresh powder”.  Being secluded, we were the first to cross it.  Even with snow shoes, it was simply not possible to stay on top.  Jeff and his hiking dog Pepper, leading the pack, were charged with breaking trail and blazing the way.  With each step, Pepper sank to his chest, and Jeff sank easily a foot which required that with each step he lift a foot worth of snow back to the surface.  Imagine, if you will, walking up a hill that had just been doused by several feet of flour with a bag of flour strapped to each ankle.  It was TOUGH.  With each step, he created the beginnings of a trail, that Chris, who stayed close on his tail, widened and flattened a bit.  When snow shoeing it is intuitive to hike in a single file line.  This prevents you from having to break new ground when others before you have already done some of the work.  This beastly crew quickly established our “order” and I was third in line.  Even with the two work horses in front of me, I was sinking with each step.  No doubt about it, this was going to be tough for all of us.

It would be easy for me to lose sight of the “good” in this trip, speaking of the “work” aspect, so let me stop here and explain the “why” behind our enduring this.  As I mentioned earlier, this was an absolutely beautiful day.  The sun was out, the sky was relatively clear, and the terrain was shimmering flawlessly white.  The trees stood proudly, some with only their tippy tops sticking out above the snow.  There were no people…… just us, exploring land that had not been bothered in days….. maybe months.  It was serene, therapeutic, and healing.   The experience of working hard with others who motivate, inspire and encourage you is one thing.  Being able to trust them to see you through hard times, in an environment like this, is quite simply priceless.  Mother nature was showing all her glory, on this day, and it was an absolute pleasure to endure every step of the journey with this crew.  

Alright… back to the story…  We crested our first hill and had our target, Black Mountain, pointed out to us.  Peak bagging on dirt can be difficult on its own, doing it in snow shoes is a completely different beast.  The shoes require a different stride, which taxes muscles you aren’t necessarily used to using, and the sinking, slipping and sliding adds a whole different level of exertion.  Needless to say, Black Mountain was a beautiful sight, from where we stood, but she, admittedly, looked impossibly far away.  With her peak our goal, we continued on with each of us realizing we may have to return to bag her another day……..  To explain, I refer to most all mountains in the female sense as “Mother Nature” is in charge and demands respect when outdoor adventuring.

Now headed downhill, we learned from Jeff that our next “goal” was to reach the river and find a crossing.  Raise your hand if you think crossing a river in these conditions is a good idea……  Yea….. me neither.  With still a good deal of mileage ahead of us, the idea of getting wet this early in was NOT appealing.  Back to the trust piece……  I knew Jeff would do his darndest to find us a safe and dry place to cross.  

As we made our way down hill, we learned Karen was having equipment difficulties as her snowshoe had broken.  Yup…..  Middle of nowhere, several back country miles from the car, she was faced with faulty equipment.  Could have been any of us.  Deby yelled ahead to us that they were working on fixing it by utilizing zip ties Karen had decided to place in her pack.  As they demonstrated some amazingly badass field repairs, the rest of us stood in a circle pondering the zip tie concept…… “Hmmmmm….. Zip ties?  What a great thing to have in your pack”.  It seems Karen was the only one, on this day, who had thought of that.  Any guesses on how many of us will have zip ties with us on future adventures?

As we approached the river, the views were breathtaking.  The sun reflecting off the water and the snow, was uplifting.  One could sit here for hours pondering the meaning of life.  Birds could be heard singing their songs of welcome and the sky, sun and trees reflecting in the water was mesmerizing.  Imagine inhaling a huge breath of fresh air and exhaling all the weight of the life you left behind for the day….. Peace.

As we followed Jeff along the creek, Jim who was positioned behind me, pointed out (with some excitement I might ad) what he felt was a good location.  What I saw, despite his excitement, was a log barely wider than my feet positioned side by side, that spanned the creek rather sketchily… Is that a word?  Anyway, at the end of the log was a snow bank easily 3 feet high, straight up.   Ummmm, “Jim” I said out loud, “even if we did manage to get across the log, how would we get up that bank?”  Needless to say, I didn’t wait for his answer and instead scurried on following Jeff hoping that he somehow would be able to find something better.

A few minutes later, we had scored a snow crossing that more solidly spanned the river.  Having no idea what was under or holding up that snow crossing, I was quite content to let Jeff and Chris cross first.  Quickly scurrying across myself, I was more than thankful to be on the other side…. Unscathed.  What you may or may not know about me is that I love to climb mountains.  I equally love standing right on the edge surveying all that is below and around the peak.  I am, however, terrified of falling into moving water….. terrified!

From here we began our climb, with occasional glimpses of our target.  I recall several instances where I heard Jeff or others say, “we’re getting closer,” only to hear Deby say out loud what I was internally thinking…. “not much.”  The climb was daunting, and I continued to be thankful for Jeff and Chris, the “beasts” working the trail in front of me.  Even Pepper was moving forward with significantly less pep to his step.  I was ever so thankful for the switch backing Jeff was doing as he traversed and climbed the mountain.  

When you are making your way up hill, there are too different strategies.  The first….. Just keep your head down and keep going, one step at a time….. With that philosophy, you can’t be defeated by the negative thoughts related to realizing you still have so far to go.  The second is to take a peek and set little milestones so you can enjoy the mini successes along the way.  On this day I utilized a bit of both strategies and I was super excited when the “Peak” came into my sights.  “Just a little bit farther,” was my mantra as I focused on each step.  As we finally reached the “top” we came to an open clearing with spectacular views of the far-off hills and valley below.  What we also could see, was more mountain to climb!  For those who don’t know, this would be what we un-affectionately refer to as a “false summit.”  Deflating.

Enjoying the view, despite this revelation, we all took a moment to re-hydrate, take in some nourishment and relish in our accomplishments.  Although not the top, I was content to call it a day.  This was top enough for me.  After all, we still had to get back to the car.  With more discussion, Jeff assured us the “Peak” was just up ahead and that we could make it there in 30 minutes.  I, though, took a gander and I believe my response was, “that will take us two hours.”  After a friendly, in jest, wager that Jeff would buy us all dinner if it took us longer than 30 minutes we were all, once again, making our way up.  This uphill stint was much steeper than “gradual,” and I found I had developed a strategic cadence.  I counted out 50 steps, and then allowed myself a bit of a breather.  50 steps…. Breathe, 50 steps…. Breathe……   Everyone develops their own strategy, and it was this, along with the group momentum, that saw me through.

Having now broken into two groups with some distance in between, Jeff, Chris and I were making good progress.  I perked up when I heard Jeff tell Chris, “I’m going up to that dead tree, and then calling it the top.”  Thank goodness…….  Before long, I was standing on the “peak”.  Feeling accomplished and rejuvenated, I stood proudly for photos of me standing close to the edge with the picturesque views behind me.  I think I purposely ignored Jeff’s statements that “the peak is just up there.”  With feelings of extreme accomplishment, I looked at Chris and lovingly said, “we did it.  You rocked it.”  Oh by the way, it took us a bit longer than the 30 minutes Jeff promised…… but who was counting.

Shortly thereafter, Jim joined us.  He plopped down, pulled out his phone, looked at the map and without a thought announced, “this is not the top! it is still another quarter mile or so.”  Picture now the sound of air quickly deflating from a full balloon…..  Just like that, Jim wiped the wind right out from under my sail.  I recall distinctly proclaiming to Chris that it was “top enough for me,” just as Jeff said, “I’m done.”

About that time, Deby and Karen joined us.  Remember, Karen was working with broken equipment.  She approached, heard we were not yet at the top, and just kept on trekking.  No if, ands, or buts about it.  I might have heard, “I didn’t come all this way not to make it to the top,” or something similar trailing behind her.  Annnnnndddddd, with that we all donned our packs and followed behind.  The power of a tribe….. It’s motivating, inspiring, and supportive…… Might have been a little peer pressure and competitiveness involved as well.

After admittedly only a little more work, we again were cresting the mountain.  With a beautifully serene landscape now before us, I looked at Chris and said, “where is Jeff?”  With exasperation, that was followed by, “why is he still going?”  About then, Jim approaches (again with that damn phone in his hand), proclaiming “the peak is still a hundred yards that way”……  pointing to the back side of Jeff.

Annnnndddd, again, we were all moving forward.  FINALLY, though, we made it to the top.  It was beautiful and knowing few others had likely ever enjoyed a moment like this, at this location, was profound.  As I removed my pack, relishing in the joy that comes with such an accomplishment, my body began to protest.  As a cramp took control of my right foot, my joy was quickly reduced to tears and agony.  I am strong, I am badass, and there is no doubt about it, that hurt like hell.  Quickly removing my snow shoe and frantically downing electrolytes, I received relief with enough time to thoroughly enjoy our accomplishment.  I was proud of myself, and proud of each member of this team.  We did it and there was no doubt in my mind that most of us would not have made it had we been alone.  Despite all you have read so far, take a look at the pictures.  The smiles are proof that we all enjoyed the experience.

But…..  We were only half done.  We still had to get off the mountain.  The flip side of having glorious sunshine, is that it warms the air which softens the snow.  Heading down we were basically sliding/skiing/falling down the collapsing landscape.  It was tricky, funny, exhausting and spectacular all rolled up into one.  Heading down, we were able to fully appreciate the level of “up” we had just achieved.   Feeling pleased after learning a “new” trick to successful downhill snowshoeing, I found myself motivating forward with a pretty quick cadence.  And then……. I took a step, felt my foot sink a foot or two while sliding out from under me, and let out a squeal as I began falling forward in slow motion.  I’m told by others that it was, in fact, slow motion.  As I rolled a bit, before coming to a safe stop, I heard Chris say, “what happened?” just as he too hit the same patch and came tumbling behind me.  I laughed as I struggled to get myself out of the heap I had landed in and continued to chuckle to myself (or maybe out loud) for several hours.  Proof that humor can be found in everything.

As we reached the creek again, I knew my body was starting to struggle.  Being plagued with back issues, for many years, my back is generally the happiest when I am hiking and backpacking.  Weird, but true.  I learned, though, that the sudden and unexpected drops related to sinking into the snow with no warning, was not a good thing.  Every third or fourth step, I could feel my lower back scream for me to stop.  If you have ever had back pain, you know that when your lower back goes out, you can’t keep going.  It is then that you realize it is the lower back that keeps you upright.  Being at a place where we were already exhausted and depleted, both mentally and physically, I needed my mind to be in the game.  At this point, it was mind over matter.  Now, with the threat of physical injury looming, my mind was playing tricks.  I couldn’t focus, and I started to get sloppy.  In true team fashion, I had no choice but to share with the others my predicament.  They were my tribe for the day, and when adventuring like this you must be able to rely on those around you.  

Just as Jeff and I were discussing the fastest way back to the road, to give us a straight flat stretch back to the car, we heard Deby again yell ahead that Karen’s snow shoe had broken for the third time.  She was out of zip ties and was calling it the end of the road for that piece of equipment.  Without snow shoes, continuing in the mountain terrain, was not wise.  With a road nearby, we made good time back to “civilization” where we found day trippers who had parked on the side of the road to enjoy the snow just a short distance from the warmth of their cars.  With exhausted smiles, we greeted each of them, knowing we had accomplished so much more.

It was a quiet trek, along the road, as we each pushed on to our cars.  Looking forward to dry clothes, and a good meal, we made quick time packing up.  Over the well-earned dinner, we all laughed and reflected on the journey we had just completed.  With each of us having at one point or another said, “I am done,” there was pride in our voices as we proclaimed our accomplishments.  We did it…… together!

As folks new to hiking or outdoor adventuring review my website and peruse my photos, or any other hikers’ photos for that matter, please don’t for a second be discouraged by the images you see.  For every successful trip with beaming faces and perfectly positioned landscapes, there are an equal number of trips or more that didn’t go as planned.  Those trips may not have been as easy for them as their photos make it look.  Everyone has moments where they struggle, even those who do this all the time.  It is not always easy, and you (or we) may not always achieve the master goal.  However, there is no “fail” in outdoor adventuring.  Simply getting out there, and taking a step, or two, or three, is success.  While I believe we can accomplish great things alone, I know from first hand experiences like this one, that we can accomplish even more with a supportive tribe.

Let me help you find your own forward momentum……  I’ve lived it and know great things can be accomplished one step at a time.