I thought I'd start out with a photo because, hot damn, this trail has some of the most beautiful vistas I've ever seen. The trail we chose on Sunday was Buttermilk Bend, along the Yuba River. I'm thinking I haven't been on the Yuba River until now, because I would have remembered this place. Yowsa.
 Buttermilk Bend is a short trail that starts out in a field just off the highway, only to change scenery quite suddenly from farmish to forestish. The gorgeous bends along the river are hidden behind the first turns in the trail, the first third of which is ADA compliant: wide and flat without sudden dips or rises. And thank goodness everyone can come and see this place. 
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We managed to beat the crowds and had the trail pretty much to ourselves. It was as though the river were waiting for us, saving each new moment for the next bend. I must have stopped in my tracks twenty times; Dad nearly ran into me more than once. After a while, he just got used to it.
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Plenty of swimming holes (you can bet I'll be coming back to this one during the summer), and once you pass the second wooden bridge, the trail becomes slender and curvy, bumping up and down until the very abrupt end, marked quite obviously by a sign.
"TRAIL ENDS." Yeah, no kidding.
"TRAIL ENDS." Yeah, no kidding.
On the way back, Dad regaled me with the story of his most recent project, setting up a skyline to transport wood downhill fast. He works regularly out in the field, and on this last venture, the State Parks employed an inmate team from one of the women's prisons to assist. To get the line taut enough to slide the hunks of wood down it, two or three people had to hang on the end, full body weight. A lot of fun to be had, apparently. I wish I had gone along.
The last time I went with my father out into the field, it was to watch a controlled burn up by Burney Falls. I will never forget the drip torches, the hefty yellow safety suits we all wore, and the incredible HEAT when the Manzanita all caught fire. My father does controlled burns to help keep the forests from clogging to the brim with highly flammable ground cover. The living trees themselves are much too wet inside to burn in a small natural forest fire, but should it get hot enough, nothing is spared. Ergo, burn off the extra accumulation regularly, and you get a much healthier cycle of fires that do not devastate miles and miles of forest.
 The x-rays on my foot have officially come back without fracture, which is a relief. But the soft tissue and tendons are still bugging me, so we're going to keep the next couple of hikes easy. Even this one tweaked a few things, and the last thing I want to do is do any lasting damage. 
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And of course, I must leave you with this fabulous bridge. ^_^
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