The Merced River Trail

The knees of the old hills were spread with green chenille quilts. Far above them stretched a pale blue and gauzy sky.

Here I was, tromping along a trail built by gold miners in 1849, giddy with the sight of wildflowers and a rushing river below me.  However, back in 1849 the energy and industry of a few thousand gold seekers was phenomenal, unparalleled.  But, it was short lived; I saw their water flume lying in heaps and tatters as I hiked, and all but the flat road they engineered in ruins.

The miners built things in rugged mountains that were home to magnificent rampaging rivers, landslides, blizzards, summer drought and stinging insects.  They constructed difficult things like railroad tracks and beds, bridges, flumes, pumping stations, diversion canals and trestles.  They tore all through the mountains and hills, digging, blasting and dredging like madmen, all driven crazy by the lure of gold.  Those men were tough, determined, and persisted with ridiculously primitive tools and equipment.

I saw a different kind of gold today -- nature's gold -- millions of flowers that sometimes looked like a delicate organza film on the towering hillsides but up close became clouds of petite petals on waving stems.  Probably the thousands of forty-niners back then noticed flowers in lush spring blooms similar to today's, but I would bet they didn't pay them much attention unless they were homesick for a sweetheart or wife they'd left back in New England.

The Merced River Trail is a popular trail easily accessible by the public.  It follows the railroad bed that was built in gold rush days where a fat little single-gauge train ran.  Across the rushing stream, on the opposite bank, traces of the old flume built by the men back in the day are still visible but lie in ruins; nature has torn it all apart with rockslides, wind and snow storms.

Cloaked on both flanks by wildflowers and dramatic rock outcroppings, it was a challenge to keep eyes on the trail at times.  The trail is mostly flat and ranges from single-lane road to narrow hiking trail, with no drinking water or toilet facilities available along its length.  Access to the trail is reached after driving or mountain biking along a dirt road that connects with the Briceburg Visitors Center on Hwy 140, 15 miles east of Mariposa.  We walked from the beginning of the trail to the confluence of the main stream with its tributary, The North Fork, a round-trip walk of about five miles.

The gold rush exploded along the Merced in 1849 and for a few years afterward, but it died just as quickly.  Hobby miners try their luck at panning still, but when faced with wildflowers in such abundance as I saw today, I felt far luckier than the men back in the gold rush and didn't do nearly the work to enjoy my riches.