JOSEFA OF DOWNIEVILLE

A Rendering of Josefa's Hanging From Downie's "Hunting For Gold" (1893)

Courtesy of the Huntington Library

The first hanging of a woman in California took place on the North Yuba River in the town of Downieville.  It was a lively gold rush town in the early 1850s and it still retains some of the architecture and integrity of setting. Part of the town’s notoriety is based on the story of the hanging of Josefa Segovia or Josefa Loaiza, sometime called Juanita, a tale with many variations and accents that varies wildly based on who’s telling it.  Today Downieville is trying to create an economy based on outdoors tourism.  Most of the surrounding land consists of conifer forest with steep canyon streams and is part of the Tahoe National Forest. 

THE SOCIAL SETTING

Downieville was originally known as “The Forks” and renamed for Major William Downie, in the spring of 1850.  With the exception of the indigenous Nisenan, who were here for centuries, everyone was here to profit from gold mining, either directly or indirectly.  They had absolutely no intention of settling in the area – in their pursuit of gold they were at best hopeful and cooperative and at their worst greedy and aggressive.  In May of 1851 there were 15 hotels and gambling houses, 4 bakeries, 4 butcher shops and a scattered population of 3,000.

Downieville is a much smaller and peaceful place today but 168 years ago on July 5, 1851 a woman was hanged either from a bridge over the North Fork of the North Yuba River or the North Yuba.  Her name was Josepha and she was a Mexican woman in her early twenties.  She was convicted of a murder by 12 men, some of whom were friends of the deceased, after a two hour “trial”.  Jiffy justice at best.  Before we get to the event that precipitated her hanging some background might be useful.

“THE SPANISH”

“Nowhere else, save perhaps as conqueror in Mexico itself, did the American show so blindly and brutally as he often showed in early California his innate intolerance for whatever is stubbornly foreign.” – Josiah Royce in California: A Study of American Character (1886)

Spaniards arrived in what would later become California in 1769. Their intent was to colonialize, establish encomiendas and convert the indigenous population to Catholicism. Alta California, as they called it, was seen as a distant outpost and therefore difficult to govern.  By 1820 Mexico declared its independence from Spain but California remained remote and ungovernable to the federal government based in Mexico City.  When the missions proved unmanageable and ultimately disbanded, Mexico awarded large land grants to retiring military officers and others who were owed political favors.  The resulting ranchos engaged, to varying degrees in meat, hide and tallow production.  With business as a secondary concern, a distinctive vaquero-based culture with hospitality, horsemanship and fiestas as core functions developed.  Despite the attempt by the grantees to maintain a veneer of Spanish decorum California became a mestizo-based population and those born in California became known as Californios.

When Mexico lost the war with the United States they signed the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848. One of its provisions gave Spanish speaking residents of former Mexican land one year to choose whether they wanted American or Mexican citizenship – over 90% chose American citizenship.  So then, most of the Californios were American citizens who were already here when gold was discovered on Sutter’s 48,000 acre land grant.

Spanish speakers were called “Spanish”, regardless of country of origin.  The residents of Valparaiso, Chile; Lima, Peru and the Mexican state of Sonora were among the first to hear about the gold discovery as they were already on the west coast.  They were among the first to arrive in California to search for gold and many of them, particularly Sonorans who were also the most numerous, had prior experience or familiarly with gold mining techniques.  Among the tools they introduced were the batea, the arrastra and the Chile mill.  Most of the Spanish speaking miners congregated in the Southern Mines, in the foothills east of the San Joaquin Valley.

Americans resented the mining skills of Spanish speaking miners, somehow seeing their experience as an unfair advantage.  The Yankees made no distinction between the Californios, some of whose ancestors had arrived in California in 1769, and newly-arrived Mexicans, Chilenos, and Peruvians. They lumped them all together as “greasers.”

One of the first laws passed by the California legislature was the “Foreign Miners Act of 1850” and its purpose was to eliminate most of the Spanish-speaking miners and other undesirables like Kanakas, Blacks and the French, among others.  When they refused to pay the impossibly high tax of $20 per month, white Americans had an excuse to drive them out of rich mining areas.  In the California mining town of Sonora, Mexicans, Chilenos, and Peruvians joined with French and German miners to protest the tax, only to be subdued by a hastily formed militia of white Americans.  Although the fee was later reduced, and the act repealed in 1851, the damage was done; it drove an estimated 10,000 Latinos from the mines.  The bill’s sponsor was a malicious Texas-born racist and state senator named Thomas Jefferson Green, who had been run off of Rose Bar on the Yuba River because he was using black slaves to mine.  

[*In 1852 more than 20,000 Chinese arrived in San Francisco intending to mine for gold.  The California legislature then passed a second Foreign Miners Tax at the rate of $3 a month this time targeting Chinese competitors.  This law was enacted until 1870 when it was declared unconstitutional.]

In the early 1850s, when North Yuba towns like Downieville and Goodyears Bar were only accessible by pack trails, Mexican and Californio men ran pack trains that brought food, tools, stoves and everything needed into the mountainous regions.  Known as arrieros, they were to be found in every town because they were an integral part of the booming freighting business. [See my previous post about Arrieros, 12/6/18].  Mexican women typically worked as inn-keepers, store-keepers, waitresses, cooks and laundresses.  They were also artists, entertainers, card dealers and prostitutes.

Downieville in 1851

THE BASIC STORY

This is one of the most popular gold rush stories – a story that is continually retold and spun. There are many versions of the event and they all have their biases running from political and unconsciously personal interpretations to blatant racism and sexism.

California became a state in 1850 and the Fourth of July celebration for 1851 would have been its first – the miners were anticipating a hearty party.  On the night of the Fourth of July, a woman identified as Josefa, who was alone in her home, was awakened by a rude disturbance.  A drunken man named John (AKA: Frederick or Jack) Cannon had torn the door of her cabin from its hinges (either accidently or deliberately), then trespassed in her home and picked up her scarf from the floor (possibly with the intention of subduing her with it).  The episode apparently enraged Josefa (some speculate that it was not the first time Cannon had accosted her).  Cannon returned the next morning to apologize and settle the damages to her home, but instead he and José, Josefa's partner or husband, argued in Spanish. Everything accelerated when Cannon reputedly called Josefa a whore (according to Josefa and Jose).  She responded by grabbing a sharp bowie knife and fatally stabbing Cannon in the heart.  After the stabbing, José and Josefa fled to Craycroft's Saloon where they were apprehended, and Josefa was taken to the town plaza to be tried.  The assembled mob wanted them both lynched on the spot.

Another View of Downieville in 1851. Illustrator Unknown

From James Sinnott's Classic, "Downieville: Gold Town on the Yuba" (1972)

Cannon was well-liked and nativist sentiments were running high in light of the celebrations the previous day.  Two men tried to defend Josefa.  One was Dr. Aiken, a physician and a friend of Josefa’s, who claimed she was pregnant; the other was a man named Thayer.  He was ordered by the crowd to look out for his own safety and, like Aiken, was brushed aside as Josefa was sentenced to die.  José was run out of town and told never to return.  Josefa was then escorted to the Jersey Bridge or the Durgan Bridge, where she slipped the noose over her head and walked out on a plank that was then cut out from under her.  There are many accounts of what happened to Cannon, why Josefa stabbed him, and why she was lynched.  Historians more or less agree on the wobbly facts related above.  

Newspaper and eyewitness accounts consistently expressed a general sense of discomfort over this violent episode.  John B. Weller, who would later become California’s Governor (1858-1860), was part of the unruly crowd.  He was running for state senator and gave a patriotic speech the day before.  Weller watched the entire event and was later accused of pandering to the mob to secure votes because he participated in the lynching as a spectator.

The Craycroft Building

Here is the text of the first newspaper article describing the event as it appeared  in the Daily Alta on July 9, 1851:  A Woman Hung at Downieville– “We are informed by Deputy Sheriff Gray, that on Saturday afternoon a Spanish woman was hung, for stabbing to the heart a man by the name of Cannan (ibid), killing him instantly. Mr. Gray informs us that the deceased, in company with some others, had the night previously entered the house of the woman and created a riot and disturbance, which so outraged her, that when he presented himself the next morning to apologize for his behavior, he was met at the door by the female, who had in her hand a large bowie knife, which she instantly drove into his heart. She was immediately arrested, tried, sentenced, and hung at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, of the same day. She did not exhibit the least fear, walking up a small ladder to the scaffold, and placing the rope round her neck with her own hands, first gracefully removing two plaits of raven black hair from her shoulders to make room for the fatal cord. Some five or six hundred witnessed the execution. On being asked if she had anything to say, she replied, "Nothing; but I would do the same again if I was so provoked.”

DISCUSSION

Sources like eye-witnessed events can become questionable when retold years later. Is the hurried, and sometime inaccurate, information gathered by the press better than digested but muddied, if not befuddled, information available in reminiscences?  It depends?  There are still disagreements about whether Josefa was hanged from the Jersey Bridge, over the North Fork of the North Yuba River or the Durgan Bridge over the North Yuba River.

Then there is the seemingly irresistible practice of retelling stories in the florid style of quip-ridden frontier correspondents like “Old Block” (Alonzo Delano), “Squibob” (George Derby) and “Norio” (Mark Twain’s brother, Orion, editor of the Meadow Lake Sun).  Humor, guns, whisky, gambling, notorious women and free-wheeling interpretations of events are characteristic elements of this style which continues into the present with shabby samples available on the internet.

The Durgan Bridge Across the North Yuba, Mid 1880s

The Original Was Swept Away by a Flood in 1862

Photographer Unknown

The confusion about Josefa’s name is fascinating. Some sources refer to her as “the Spanish woman” and others, with a bit more accuracy, as “the Mexican woman.”  Although original newspaper accounts calls her Josefa somehow her name changes to Juanita, a blanket stereotypical name like “John Chinaman”, or simply “John”, in other words not a person but a demeaning category.  A white woman of the same era was always addressed as Miss or Mrs. and never on a first name basis.

Josefa Segovia and Josefa Loaiza are the most credible candidates for her full name. Jose Maria Loaiza, Josefa’s companion, in the 1877 “Schedule of Mexican Claims against the United States”, filed a suit against the U. S. requesting damages for “the lynching of his wife and the banishment of himself by a mob.”  Jose Loaiza's claim for damages was denied but it substantiates the claim that they were married.

Josefa was employed as a waitress at the Craycroft Saloon where Jose worked as a monte dealer.  There were few women and thousands of men in this part of the North Yuba canyon – the county history by Farris and Smith (1882) published the reminiscences of George Barton, where he says, “There was an absence of women in 1850 and well on into 1851. There were not a half a dozen women in town, white or Spanish.”  In 1851 the Downieville precinct counted 1,132 votes (all American men, of course). This may be apocryphal, but if you’ve been in a male environment like a sports team, in the military, or worked on a physically brutal job (like mining) the level of discourse and behavior can sink to a common denominator which is often crude or brutal and it’s likely that this was the case in Downieville.  Do you doubt for a moment that Josefa was frequently propositioned?

Some sources suggest that she was a prostitute and others say so directly, with the implication that she got what she deserved.  R. H. Dana, author of Two Years Before the Mast (1840) and a young Protestant man from New England who was in California before the gold rush had this to say about the Californios: “The men are thriftless, proud, extravagant, and very much given to gaming; and the women have but little education, and a good deal of beauty, and their morality, of course is none the best.”  There is no reason to believe that the gold miners of 1851 had evolved beyond this stereotype in their thinking.

There is no evidence that Josefa was a prostitute.  But even if she was, she still deserved a fair trial.  There are those who defend frontier justice (primarily lashing and lynching) and maintain that it puts just limits on human excesses.  I’m not a fan of this kind of thinking because when it reaches the level of mob rule there is no thinking going on at all – it’s all emotion and revenge driven.  We can do better than that.

The North Fork of the North Yuba, Now the Downie River

You may ask yourself if Josefa was justified in killing a man because he (only) insulted her, assuming you believe that version of events.  In the wilds of California in 1851 a woman who was called a prostitute may have had a legitimate defense, or at least given some leniency, but none of this applied if you were a Mexican or Indian woman.

Internationally, the hanging was controversial with condemnation from the London Times and other papers.  Even Fredrick Douglass commented, saying that if she had been white she would have been lauded for her behavior instead of hanged for it.  She simply had no standing.  Josefa expressed no regrets and retained her dignity but lost her life.

Posted on the Craycroft Building

• • •

RICE'S CROSSING LAND PRESERVE and THE RIM TRAIL

The Yuba River, between Dobbins Creek and the mouth of the Middle Yuba

Trails go nowhere

They end exactly

where you stop - Lew Welch

It’s unusual to find such isolated, steep, scenic and wild country at elevations below 3,000’ but Rice’s Crossing Preserve has those assets and more.  Hiking is possible all year here because the preserve is below the upwardly creeping snow-line but in the summer it can be quite hot.  Dress appropriately and carry enough water. 

General description:

The preserve is a rectangular holding along the Yuba River that’s approximately six miles long, set between New Bullards Bar Dam and Englebright Reservoir.  It encompasses 2,707 acres and includes properties on both sides of the river. The land is managed by the Bear Yuba Land Trust (BYLT) and bordered by California State Parks, the Army Corps of Engineers (ACOE), Bureau of Land Management (BLM), Yuba County Water Agency (YCWA), Plumas National Forest (PLM), Tahoe National Forest (TNF) and private properties.  According to BYLT Co-Director, Erin Tarr, “The majority of the Preserve will remain as wilderness.  Within these wild areas we will devote our resources to obtaining grant funding for healthy forest and watershed management projects which will create resilient habitat structures to ensure future sustainability.”

The 645' high New Bullards Bar Dam was built on the North Yuba in 1969

The north entrance to the Rice’s Crossing Preserve is below the New Bullards Bar Dam near a prominent road-side quarry, and the preserve's northern boundary is between the dam and the confluence of the Middle Yuba River.  Below the dam the river flows south to a pronounced bend at Rolleys Point, where it flows west, then southwest to Rices Crossing. This is a steep and rugged canyon on steep slopes, dense with vegetation.  The highest peak, near the Yuba Rim Trail is approximately 2,600’ and French Bar on the Yuba River is at about 500’.  From the terminus of the Rim Trail there is a drop of 1,100’ to the mouth of the Middle Yuba.  And, from the top of Red Bluff, a dramatic geological feature at 2,525’, there is a steep drop of 1,925’ to the Yuba.

The Bear Yuba Land Trust has started their trails program with three trails.  On the south end is the short trail to French Bar and on the north end there is the Yuba Rim Trail and they have started on the Yuba Drop Trail, which promises a rugged descent to the Yuba and a demanding climb out of the canyon.

Construction on the Yuba Drop Trail

THE RIM TRAIL

How to get there:  From Nevada City take Highway 49 north, cross the South Yuba bridge and pass through the town of North San Juan, then drop to the bridge over the Middle Yuba.  Cross the Middle Fork bridge, make an immediate left on Moonshine Road, and drive it for 5 miles to its terminus at Marysville road.  Turn left on Marysville Road and drive 3.1 miles, crossing the New Bullards Bar dam, to the trailhead, which will be on your left, opposite a fenced quarry area.  There is an identifying sign at the parking area.  That makes it 24.5 miles from Nevada City, one way.

Hiking the Trail:  One of the best views from this trail is a view close to the trailhead.  As you look down on the meadow below the parking area you’ll see a bench and kiosk where there is a view of a segment of the Middle Yuba and Klensendorf Point. Start with this and then hit the trail.

 A segment of the Middle Yuba just before it joins the North Yuba at Klensendorf Point

The trail starts by contouring around a series of small eastward flowing drainages that are dense with vegetation.  You’ll cross a newly constructed footbridge beyond which there is a series of ten small switchbacks that climb to the ridgetop and a former logging road, which is now part of the trail.  Continue uphill.  Despite the continuous, but gradual, climb there is an elevation gain of only 750‘.

When the ridgetop road fades follow the clearly marked former skid trail to a rocky knoll with an expansive view to the west and north.  Immediately across the canyon is San Juan Ridge and the hydraulic gold mining excavations that supported the settlements of North San Juan, Sweetland, Sebastopol and French Corral.  The long view to the northeast includes Fir Cap and the Saddleback lookout in the mountains above Downieville.  I prefer to visit this view in the fall, winter and early spring when there is the possibility of clouds and the sky is a clean bright blue.  In the fall there is also changing color as deciduous plants lose their leaves.

What’s surprising about this trail is the dense vegetation, rugged steepness and the remoteness of the Yuba River.  The only road access to the river within the preserve is Rices Crossing via Bridgeport and the road from Dobbins to the New Colgate Power Plant.  When the Nisenan were the naturalized inhabitants and stewards of this landscape it looked very different.  Their primary “management” tool was fire and the natives used it to create an environment with less understory, more navigability, greater lateral visibility and to maintain small meadows with nearby springs.  I have found milling stones here in settings that are now choked with trees and brush.

The vegetation is varied with ponderosa pine, Douglas fir, incense cedar, black oak, canyon live oak, tan oak, madrone, broad-leaf maple, dogwood, manzanita, redbud, ceanothus, soap root, poison oak, blackberries and many other plants.  This is also prime tick country – try to stay on the trails.  Because of the variety, abundance and health of the vegetation you can assume there is a flourishing wildlife population that includes deer, rabbits, foxes, moles, hawks, owls and coyotes as well as black bears, mountain lions, rattlesnakes, skunks and scorpions.

The Yuba River downstream from Chute Ravine

Placer gold mining was the first significant human impact on the Yuba River.  The erosion of ancient streams, now located mid-slope, made for rich streamside gravel bars, at least in the early gold rush when men were sluicing surface gravels streamside and diverting the river with wing dams to get at the stream bed. There were mining camps and small settlements all along the Yuba River from Long Bar to the area above Downieville, with mining happening on the Middle Yuba, the South Yuba and Deer Creek as well.  Many of the early streamside mines and crossings were washed away by the flood of 1862.

Rices Crossing / Yuba River

Within the borders of the Rice’s Crossing Preserve were the following mining operations:

Rices Crossing is on the west bank and was originally called Lousy Level, Liars Flat, Leases Flat and finally Rices Crossing.  Some maps and references call it Rices Ford.  The river is very flat and would have slowed down here forming gravel bars, which I suspect would have been good salmon spawning ground prior to gold mining.  According to Nisenan tribal spokesperson, Shelly Covert, “Rice’s Crossing is where we have an ancient burning ground and where our family had a stage stop and ranch. It’s the place where Nisenan family members hid when they ran away from the Indian Boarding School and it’s the place where stories that are still alive within the Tribe became part of our memory.”  The 1879 Yuba County History says that this location was originally mined by 100 men, then Chinese and then Indians and “Half Breeds.” This was also a popular place with Depression era snipers.  Sniping is the mining of crevasses in streamside rocks and boulders that contain gravel and sand by using knives, spoons, screw-drivers, shovels, pry bars and sluices or pans. This kind of low-tech mining, combined with some poaching and fishing, made it possible for men and small families to endure hard times.

French Bar / Yuba River

Upstream and around a bend was Frenchman Bar where “150 men mined."  The French presence was considerable and is indicated by the nearby towns of French Corral on San Juan Ridge and Frenchtown, on Dry Creek.  By 1879, Chinese miners were the majority here.

At the mouth of Dobbins Creek, on the north side of the river, was Condemn or Condemned Bar where Henry Warner had a store and 75 men worked.  Later, “Two or three companies of Chinese, about 100 men” worked here.  It was mined during the Depression and there were still snipers camped here in 1948.

Upstream, and above Dobbins Creek was Missouri Bar #1 at the site of the present-day New Colgate Powerhouse managed by the Yuba County Water District.  As of 1879 “a company of white men and some Chinamen” were at work here.”

Upstream about three miles above Dobbins Creek, on the north side of the river, is a pronounced bend at a place called variously Clingman Point or Klingermans Point or on later maps as Rolleys Point.  J. A. Stuart was there in 1851 and wrote in his diary that there was “considerable mining.”

Rolleys Point is a difficult place to get to but is mighty tempting to visit.  In late summer, a few years back, I started upstream from Missouri Bar #1 and immediately realized that because of steep slopes and continuous bouldering this might be an overnighter.  Nevertheless, here I was, and I wanted to see how far I could get in four hours or so. It was very slow going and demanding too – I hoped that I had enough calories in my pack to power me.  Less than a mile upstream, as I was standing on a large boulder to survey what was ahead, I noticed what looked like the hind quarters of a deer near the water and not too far in front of me.  As I moved closer, I realized that I was right and I could see that the meat was very red and that this was a fresh kill. Everything about this pleasant outing changed as I realized that a mountain lion couldn’t be too far from here and it would definitely return to claim its due in which case I would be perceived as an intruder.  Suddenly vulnerable, in difficult terrain, alone and without protection, I headed home.  As I slowly creeped downstream, boulder by boulder, I recalled an Inuit song that referred to “eyes all around” and I hoped that somehow I could summon some of that magic. I remained fairly calm while retracing my path and frequently looking behind me.  That day taught me some lessons and humbled me too – a sane stance in the natural world.

Lush habitat like this would have contained the mature trees that 19^thcentury lumbermen pined for and took first.  It’s obvious that the preserve and adjacent properties have been logged repeatedly for lumber and firewood.  Stumps along the trail indicate that both cross-cut saws and chainsaws were used – chainsaws were probably introduced to this area by the late 1940s.  Extensive logging preceded the construction of New Bullards Bar Dam, which was completed in 1969.  There were many post WW II sawmills in existence between Challenge and Camptonville, as well as at many other locations. Logging was the local economy for several generations.

New Bullards Bar Dam / North Yuba River

The south entrance to the Rice’s Crossing Preserve is located on the Yuba River (South Yuba State Park, at Bridgeport) above Point Defiance, near French Bar.  To get to Rices Crossing/French Bar, start at Bridgeport on the South Yuba and take the first uphill turn (a dirt road) off of Pleasant Valley Road, on the north side of the bridge over the river.  It climbs to a saddle with an intersection of roads where directional signs are planned and may be there already.  Basically, you go straight ahead and begin a gradual descent to the Yuba River.  There are no wrong turns.  The historic road, which is still intact, dropped from French Corral to the intersection and on to Rices Crossing, which was used to get to Dobbins and Oregon House until the Englebright Dam was completed in 1941.

Work is currently underway on the downstream entrance to the preserve.  There will be parking ($5) and a trail to nearby French Bar on the Yuba River located upstream from nearby Rices Crossing where the streamside vegetation crowds the river.  Although French Bar is alongside the river don’t expect sandy beaches, instead there are acres of gravel and cobbles that have accumulated as a result of upstream placer gold mining, part of our unique legacy.  This area is currently being developed as a recreation destination so stay tuned to the Bear Yuba Land Trust website (www.bylt.org) for further information.  If you are headed there remember that it’s still basically a single-lane wagon road so be careful and courteous.

Young Jay in a Incense Cedar

Two fussy footnotes:

(1) In California Counties that were part of the gold rush it was, and is, a convention and tradition to drop the possessive apostrophe when referring to places such as camps, towns, endeavors, momentous event locations and geographic landmarks.  Nearby examples include Parks Bar, Bullards Bar, Moores Flat, Goodyears Bar, Craigs Flat, Cut-Eye Fosters Bar and Devils Postpile. This customary usage pattern has been honored by newspapers, legal documents, technical journals and Post Offices. Contemporary usage validates the gold mining vernacular of 19^thcentury California and it’s good enough for me.  Ordinarily I wouldn’t bring this up and simply proceed with the original spellings.  But in this document you’ll see both Rices Crossing and Rice’s Crossing and that’s because the official name of this land acquisition is the “Rice’s Crossing Preserve.”  This may be proper English but as a history buff, a long-time inhabitant and a finicky researcher I prefer the traditional spellings – enough about that.

(2) Terminology used to describe local geography is a mixture of local lore and the observations of professional hydrologists and geographers. Rices Crossing is the upstream boundary of the Englebright Reservoir, managed by the Army Corps of Engineers, and the waterline from Rices Crossing to the dam is higher than it was prior to the dam (1941).  The South Yuba actually flows into the reservoir.  A few miles below the New Bullards Bar dam the Middle Yuba enters the North Yuba and the stretch of river from here to the Feather River is known as the Yuba River and alternatively as the Lower Yuba.

::::::::::

LEARNING TO FIT IN: SOCIAL ECOLOGY

When the Whole Earth Catalog, with the Apollo photograph of the Earth on its cover, appeared in the fall of 1968, it reordered the worldview held by much of my generation.  That photo, at a glance, made it obvious that all of us had a shared destiny but our resources were finite.  Stuart Brand, a Veteran and Stanford-educated biologist, who was also a Merry Prankster, was its editor.  It was 64 pages long and sold for five dollars – everyone I knew was reading it.  It was an embryonic internet search engine (think of it as the web’s wood-burning era) offering “access to tools”– a broad definition that included practical skills, scientific knowledge, and metaphysical commentary.

Donner Summit

Many of us were starting families at the time and the world seemed like it was in turmoil.  In 1969, when we began looking for rural land, gold reached a record high of $47 per ounce, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the Moon, the Woodstock Music and Art Fair opened in upstate New York, and the Manson family committed the Tate-LaBianca murders.  In that same year Richard Nixon was inaugurated president and Golda Meir became Israel’s prime minister.  On Vietnam Moratorium Day, millions nationwide protested the war.  In Greenwich Village police raided the Stonewall, a gay bar, causing hundreds of patrons to riot for three days.  In November Alcatraz Island was seized by militant Native Americans and in December 300,000 people traveled to Altamont to see the Rolling Stones.  Meanwhile, Britain abolished the death penalty and the Jackson Five made their first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.

We were convinced that if we would just get back to the land, we could cultivate a natural lifestyle, which we imagined would be peaceful and just.  The Whole Earth Catalog, with its mix of practicality, cross-cultural reflections and rootsyness, was the ideal handbook.  It helped by providing some practical instructions and possibilities about creating community.

COLONIZERS

There it was, on the first page: “We are as gods and might as well get good at it.”  We believed that, and lo, we were arrogant.  The truth is that, for the most part, we acted more like colonizers than guests.  Critical of the local population, we thought that the existing logging, mining, and grazing practices were unnatural, immoral even, and we were outspoken about our beliefs.  Needless to say, it’s difficult to make friends when you’re so judgmental up-front – we soon found that they held strong beliefs, and opinions, too.

We really thought we were onto something special, or, more accurately, that we were special—after all, this was the Age of Aquarius.  While there were many people around with high ideals about community and equality, there was also the persistent temptation to wallow in personal freedoms such as alcohol, drugs, and sexual experimentation (no judgment here).  Despite high-minded hippie rhetoric, there was often a huge spoonful of self-indulgence in the mix.  I bring this up because that’s the way I was when I moved to the foothills of rural California.

Woody

We were reinventing ourselves, which was not a new concept in California.  It also happened during the gold rush, when a sailor from Maryland shoveled alongside a lawyer from New York.  Your background didn’t matter; in those days “a man was measured by the size of his pile.”  Of course, the fundamental difference between 1849 and 1969 was the motive.  One was about accumulating wealth and the other was about social evolution.

We borrowed freely from other traditions, mixing and matching to create the eclectic look and philosophy that was (and is) so easy to ridicule by contemporary journalists.  Mongrelized hippie culture included idealized Native American rituals, mantras from Tibet, fringed buckskin bags, sandals from Mexico, long hair, and beads.  Women wore huipils from Guatemala and bedspreads from India, while men fetishized denim and working-class attire.  In our search for authenticity, we mail-ordered Amish and “plain clothing” from the family-owned Gohn Brothers store in Middlebury, Indiana.  For a while we equated severity with serenity and spirituality. Most of us felt there was some inherent righteousness in doing things the hard way; there was little discussion about convenience or “time saving.”

NOVICE/INITIATE/GUEST

When we bought land, we had no idea that the simple life required so many chores.  We had to learn to fix our roads, learn basic plumbing maneuvers, acquire carpentry skills, troubleshoot the generator, put up the tomatoes, fill the kerosene lamps, attend school board meetings, and split wood – then do it over again.  We added to our toolboxes, we learned to do new things and we all became more self-reliant. There’s a lot to be said for self-reliance.  By that I don’t necessarily mean proficiency in a particular skill so much as a general attitude that we can make it work.  I find that, even today, many of my back-to-the-land-era friends radiate an inner resilience and confidence and handle change well.

To live in a rural area, you need to know your neighbors.  You’ll meet them eventually – perhaps in a snowstorm or fire. Our neighbors, some of whom had been living here for many generations, taught us sensible things.  In time we learned some respect for the hard work that lumbermen, cattlemen and truck-drivers do, and respect for the women who ran households, who seemed to know infinitely more than us and were often more clever and witty than our college-educated friends.  We even appreciated the (formerly) “dumb-ass” teenage neighbor who assembled the ram pump while we fumbled with the instructions.

No Provenance 

At home there were more than enough tedious and very unromantic chores to deal with.  The work was often repetitive and not too stimulating, but you were not alone in your madness because it was a shared ethos.  It could also be idyllic.  Neighbors, especially from your own tribe, were usually eager to pitch in because workdays would end with a sumptuous feast, music, stimulating conversation, play, good smoke, and laughter – family fiestas, really.

Many members of our community pitched in to help build a new elementary school. Part of the project included the first log cabins on a public-school campus since the state began supervising school construction.  The trees were felled with crosscut saws then hauled with muscle and log carriers.  Logs were limbed with axes, peeled with spuds and drawknives, and their butt ends trimmed with chisels.  An eight-woman crew “chinked” the interior space between logs with saplings, a tedious job requiring skill and finesse.  The two log cabins had to be designed and built to meet earthquake safety standards.  This required the insertion of vertical rebar to pin each course of logs to those below it.  We delighted in the increased safety without having to add visible, nontraditional bracing on the logs.

Jonathan

I’ve forgotten how we explained our rationale to the school superintendent’s office, but from here I can see we did it for the joy of it—the deep pleasure of physical work, camaraderie, learning, and visible accomplishment.  There was a lot to learn and initially I felt that I had nothing much to contribute.  It’s very humbling to realize that you have no usable skills, despite your precious “education.” To get by, you needed to achieve a certain level of competence at something practical.  When you reached the point where you couldn’t leave home without a pocketknife, you were approaching a level playing field with your “redneck” neighbors.  Your worth was based on what you did and how well it was done, and not on your “vision” or fantasies.  It took a while to see that the ecology of a place includes the human population as well.  In the 1970s Gary Snyder wrote a poem entitled “Why Log Truck Drivers Rise Earlier Than Students of Zen,” which is, itself, a poem, or at least a provocative question.  At the time, the Pine Cone Cafe in Grass Valley, and several other local places that served breakfast to loggers, opened at 3:30 a.m.

LEARNER/OCCUPANT/NEIGHBOR

The concept, or notion, of right livelihood offers the possibility that you can make a living by using your talents (whether innate or acquired).  It gets a bit tricky because there are mountains and valleys (learning and desperation) on this path, but it is possible with humility, hard work, humor, and blind faith.  So, if you wanted to stay here, you decided to either pursue your dream/lifework and hope that it would support you, find a “real” job and move to where the money was then return with some, or simply move on.

Earning money was a serious problem. We needed it for food and land payments.  In our neighborhood there were a few jobs with the schools, for instance teachers, teacher’s aides, maintenance, and kitchen help. Some commuted the 20 miles to the nearest town for whatever work they could find there, and there was also the National Forest, which had some seasonal forestry-oriented work.  Others of us, men and women, formed crews and bid on seasonal contracts with the Forest Service and timber companies.  We fought fires, climbed trees to gather pine and fir cones for seeds, planted trees, thinned tree plantations, and built trails.  As we became more proficient, we sometimes moved to distant locations where we worked long hours for weeks at a time.  On all of these jobs, you were paid for what you produced.  If you were good, you could make some decent money.  It was hard work, but there is incalculable value and worth in a good day’s work.  When we returned home, fit, honest and dirty, with a pocket full of cash, we felt like working-class heroes.  Somewhere along the way, what was once a groove became a rut.  This kind of work was perfect for a while, but it was not intellectually engaging and not everyone was happy with the physical demands.  

There were those among us who believed that a spiritual path was the way and that the details would take care of themselves.  Most of these people lived very simply, already had money, or grew marijuana.  You had to lean into your dream and try to make it happen, which many people attempted and succeeded at.  Flirting with animism, exotic religions, and pious posturing didn’t really change much.  My friend Will Staple nailed it in his poem “Eastern Mysticism”:

                        What good did getting up

                        Every morning at 5:30 to

                        Meditate do?

                        Your girlfriend

                        Left you.

When I lived in San Francisco I was a social worker and a photographer for alternative newspapers, but here in the hills I worked at forestry-oriented jobs, hammered nails, mixed concrete, and found occasional photography gigs illustrating articles for writers who were also struggling.

In the mid-1970s the Forest Service began implementing the National Environmental Protection Act (NEPA).  That legislation recognized our cultural heritage (historical and archaeological sites) as resources to be protected.  I had a degree in anthropology, so I was hired, as part of a team, to locate, record, and manage these sites on public land.  At the time this was a dream job, as I was being paid to explore the landscape (in a reliable truck, no less) while learning more about its culture and ecology.  Another benefit was working with wildlife biologists, botanists, hydrologists, foresters and geologists and learning something about their perspectives.  In time I became proficient with map and compass, made new friends of all sorts, and became a competent guide in remote regions. But working for the government has its peculiar limitations, and eventually, after 12 years, it was time to move on.

Susan

Meanwhile I was immersed in my watershed, its function, and its recreational and spiritual possibilities.  In an attempt to share our enthusiasm, my lovely late wife Susan and I, self-published a trail book in 1993.  It was heavy on history and personal adventures and it was very well received.  Today I still enjoy learning more about hiking, photography, and writing.  Miraculously, this focus has become my vocation and generates enough income for me and my family to live simply, but well.

ELDER/ADEPT/HOST

Contrary to the common stereotype, most of us were not “dropouts.”  By the mid-1970s we were rooted in the community and active in local and regional politics.  We voted and put people on school boards, on the County Planning Commission, on the California Arts Council, in water-managing agencies, on fire departments, in cultural centers, and even on the county Board of Supervisors.  We established prestigious nonprofit agencies.  We were very active in the arts with nonstop music, theater productions, publications, dance recitals, rowdy poetry readings, performance art, and exhibitions of all sorts.  I feel that we have contributed vitality to the local culture without sacrificing worthwhile traditions.  In doing so we’ve been respectful, sometimes outrageous, but always civil.

More than 25 years ago, while enjoying a local function featuring Native American traditional practices, I was asked to set the tone for the day with an opening statement.  I was surprised by the request because I really didn’t see myself as an elder.  For one thing, I was intimidated by the presence of “real” Indian elders.  Also, my personal vanity wouldn’t allow me to recognize my age, status, and responsibilities.  It only recently dawned on me that, despite my reluctance and many flaws, I’ve become an elder anyway.  Looking back, I can see that personal growth is a slow and steady process, like wood growing in trees.

Being an elder carries responsibilities.  Like it or not, you become a grandparent-at-large.  It matters when you speak up in public (hopefully, less often but more judiciously).  Public approval and disapproval matter, and, if you have credibility, you are listened to.  It goes without saying that whatever behavior earned you your good reputation should be sustained.  Maintain a sense of humor.  Offer advice when it’s requested but realize that you do have the benefit of a long-range perspective and have seen the consequences of past visions and decisions.  Finally, where and when it’s appropriate, share the knowledge and the stories that you’ve spent a lifetime accumulating.

Unnamed Pond / North Yuba

• • •

A CONSTELLATION OF CONTRAILS

Chimney Rock - Sierra Buttes / North Yuba

Contrails – you’ve seen them – man-made clouds that remind us there’s nothing we can’t mess with. The word contrail is derived from the word condensation. However, if you are one of the many people who feel that “THEY” have dosed these linear clouds with sinister substances, the word is chemtrail. My own take is that long straight lines across the heavens are incredibly ugly and are a hell of a thing to ask us to accept as “the price of doing business.”

For at least the past 60 years aircraft have repeatedly slashed the skyscape with contrails in the name of progress. Now those annoying white lines (reminiscent of celestial cocaine) are a part of every sunny-day hike. With jet travel expected to triple by 2050 we’re in for a lot of ugly geometry above us.

 Grouse Ridge/ South Yuba

According to NASA, contrails are clouds formed when water vapor condenses and freezes around small particles that exist in aircraft exhaust. Some of that water vapor comes from the air around the plane and some is added by the exhaust of the aircraft. Contrails form at very high altitudes (usually above 8 km), where the air is less than minus 40°C. For what it’s worth, they can be classified into three groups: short-lived, persistent (non-spreading) and persistent spreading. 

Anthropogenic clouds impact the climate by modifying the energy balance between sunlight and infrared energy in the atmosphere, and they may affect the water vapor content and chemistry of the upper troposphere. As the volume of commercial air travel increases, these effects will undoubtedly become more important. The EPA concluded that “Persistent contrails pose no direct threat to public health” but added: “Contrail cloudiness might contribute to human-induced climate change.”

Lindsey Lake/ South Yuba

Whether contrails effect climate remains unclear, but the unsightly mess they leave in a once true-blue sky is all too clear. How often have you been out hiking or skiing, feeling blissfully remote, only to have a bright-white gash ripping into an otherwise profoundly cerulean sky (thanks to Bob Ross for cerulean). Or, after waiting for that “just-right light” for your photographic masterpiece, the notoriously straight-line sky slasher, innocuously called “contrails”, appears to slice up the sky. Even highly-respected landscape photographer, Ansel Adams, ranted about the ubiquitous “sky worms” that annoyed the blue sky over his beloved Sierra Nevada. Nevertheless, Adams himself, photographed them from Roseville, California for his 1953 photo entitled Rails and Jet Trails.

  

Ansel Adams, 1953