Sycamore Canyon, White Horse Lake

May 18, 2012

5:30 a.m.!  Sure enough, that’s the time Barb & Bud said they are picking us up for a spin up to the Sycamore Canyon area.  We are retired, so what is up with this dawn patrol?  We manage to roll out of bed in the wee small hours and be ready for our chariot, which arrives right on time.

Mr. B is the chauffeur of the day, so Chris climbs into the front passenger seat while Barb and I do what I call “the old lady thing” and share the back seat.  I so clearly remember seeing “old” ladies doing just that while I, in my judgmental youthfulness, marveled that anyone could be so aged and decrepit as to do such a thing.  My, don’t perspectives change. . .

We take the back road through Drake to arrive at White Horse Lake, disembarking into a breezy cold morning on the shore.  I am so glad I opted not to wear shorts!  After milling around for a spell, we disburse to outhouses and then to water’s edge to see what bird life is apparent.

No spotting scope with us again because after all, this is a hiking foray to scout possible Sycamore camp sites for the Bs, but we are astounded at the number and variety of birds, especially the osprey.  I have never seen so many in one place.  They are vocally flying back and forth over the lake searching for prey, often swooping down into the water to snag a fish for breakfast, sometimes to miss their target.

A flock of double-crested cormorants lounge on the rocks and in the water at the far end of the lake and we spot the usual redwing blackbirds, American coots, mallards and great blue herons.  I am happy to identify a spotted sandpiper near to shore on a lone rock.

We have breakfasted briefly during the drive northward, so are able to don packs and head off into the forested hills that comprise the lake’s bowl.  Our general direction is eastward toward the canyon.  We follow a track that quickly becomes two tracks, then more tracks.  The idea was to actually hike on a trail marked on a map, but we necessarily abandon the plan when it becomes obvious the mapmaker was delusional in indicating only one trail.

No matter: we find the canyon and thoroughly enjoy the expanses spread out before us.  This is an area of Sycamore that is much brushier than others and does not invite a climb down into the depths.  It would be a bushwhacking nightmare and possibly does not offer a climbable route to the bottom from here.

Wandering there and back, we spot more birds, including western bluebird, northern flicker, grackle and Steller’s jay.

Instead of returning to the car via the same route, we circumvent the lake, get a good hike and spy additional birds.  The most exciting is a bald eagle that Barbara points out perched high in a dead tree across the lake - magnificent!

To our list, we add pied-billed grebe, house wren, raven, lesser goldfinch, red-faced warbler and Say’s phoebe.













Now we reload and drive south to Sycamore Point via a longish road that is barely bumpy enough to keep Buddy, our driver, awake.  Along the way, we see a huge osprey nest with a baby safely tucked inside and being fed by its fisherbird parent, a fun and unusual sight.









We eat our picnic lunch while comfortably seated on rocks right at the rim of the canyon that is spread out far below us.  The views from here are vast and beautiful, but hazy.  I am thinking this is smoke from the tragic Gladiator fire that continues to consume our wonderful forest in the Bradshaws.

Our vantage point gives us superb views of the dry creek bed meandering through the canyon bottom, a torturously winding trail coming down from the opposite rim and the spectacular rock formations of Sycamore in addition to far-reaching vistas beyond.  I am inspired to shoot photo after photo, invariably carried away by all the beauty and interest around me and spoiled by the digitization that allows me to click incessantly.












I don’t think this particular point allows good access into the canyon, but there are others that do, and Sycamore is a splendid place to hike, camp and explore.  We have before and we shall again.