McCloud Falls

Mt. Shasta is a curious town. As we waited in line for a sandwich at the local natural foods market, it was hard to watch the inefficiencies behind the deli counter (and not intervene). I will say that the food was worth the wait.

There were lots of shops selling crystals. Our hiking buddies from Heart Lake had shared an amusing encounter: They had been in one of the shops when a guy wandered in, claimed he was the 16th incarnation of Buddha (or some such), and demanded a particular crystal of significance that was on display. Or else he would blow up the shop. [Which, of course, is just what Buddha would do.]

Our afternoon plans included a much less strenuous hike than this morning's. We headed for McCloud Falls, which is really a series of three waterfalls along a stretch of the McCloud River.

I envied the families playing in the water, scrambling over the boulders and jumping off the rock walls. [Well, not so much the cliff jumpers. I'm too chicken for that.] It was refreshing to see so much unbridled splashing and sliding, with no signs or officials in uniforms shooing people away “for their own safety.” I wished I'd brought a bathing suit.

Here, it was a little less hot than on our earlier hike. The distance to the upper falls was not clear; we needed to return to town to pick up our registration packets for tomorrow's ride, so we kept walking with an eye on the clock.

As we were climbing the uppermost segment, two young women came running down the rocky trail. And one tripped. My ride buddy, walking just ahead of me, caught her. Most importantly, in that brief-but-terrifying moment, both of them stayed upright and neither one tumbled over the cliff.

We made our u-turn at the upper falls with ample time to hike back down. Then we spotted a crowd heading for the narrow trail. Wearing ... costumes? Colorful broad-brimmed hats, South American style. Did they step off a bus in the parking lot, above? It was as though someone had conjured a line of zombies, as they marched along with blank expressions. My ride buddy and I looked at each other. “Let's go!” And let's stay ahead of them.

And so we lived to tell the tale. 4.1 miles, round-trip, with much less climbing than our morning adventure.