Hiking White's Creek, Reno NV

Today June 9, 2011. The day was free of clouds and had warmth in the mid-70's. My daughter Daisy and I had a good moderate hike together. The trail was single track with little challenge. We parked at at the end of an asphalt lot that was guarded by a playground.

As we started up the trail there was the sound of a voice telling us his dog, Sampson, to come back. Samson did not listen. Both Daisy and I looked back to see Samson bounding towards us at full speed. I jumped in front of Daisy to protect. Samson just made a quick right to avoid me and came to Daisy, who became the frightened 9 year old she is, and gave her a quick smell and licked her legs while wagging his tail. His owner apologized profusely. They both proceeded on with owner-boy holding the leash over his shoulder.

We entered the trail and were greeted by the smell of burning pine. To the west is a small plume of smoke from a controlled burn. The beauty of this is that, I am so grateful that the U.S.F.S. has decided that we should be protected, we need to manage the forest. As the smell becomes commonplace, my first and only thought is how the hell has the forest survived so long without our assistance. Those damn trees have been able to grow without rule. Damn the foliage that has decided to live and grow free. Shame!

We travelled on. The sound of the creek is loud as the winter melt flows to our left. Winter was long in our parts. We complained that it would never end, but after a good ski year, green wild grasses and happy BLM employees, we are now reaping the benefits of the snow run-off. 

(Start of our hike. White's Creek)

When Daisy and I hike she always leads the way. "Daddy hurry up! Daddy what are you doing? Can we stop for U-Swirl? Daddy I' am thirsty. Mommy would not go this way."

We continue on.

The hike is in the middle of suburban sprawl. Homes line the upper banks of the trail.

House above the trail

We continue on.

The sound of the creek is still deafening. We come to a few stands of Aspens. Daisy asks me for a sharp object to write her name in the tree. I tell her no. Regret.

The trail is narrow. We see quail scurry about. Hear the sounds of wild birds looking for a date. Manzanita sticks its prickly stems out upon the trail. The trail meanders towards the stream. We follow the path. Hearing the stream become louder, we see a man-made bridge. At this point I tell Daisy that any bridge we come upon, I will take your picture. 

Daisy on bridge

We continue on.

The walk is easy. Guarded by desert manzanita  and desert lupin. Daisy, in her hand, is an empty bottle of orange juice. She drops it. The slope is steep as the bottle rolls towards the water.I tell her to let it go. She looks up at me, with the start of tears in her eyes, and says "Daddy I have never littered!" Oh it is good to be me. Nothing is better than having an child who is full of innocence.

Daisy removing the bottle

We continue on.

The bushes give us sound. "Daddy what was that?" 'Daddy hold me." Daddy did you see that?" "OH, I'm scared."

At t his point we have made the turn, heading back to the car. It is getting hotter. The best part of this hike is following the shade towards the water. We are exposed upon the trail. The heat bounces up to us from the rocks. Daisy tells me we are out out of water. I just shake my head.

We are close to the end of the trail. Daisy jumps, as a lizard runs across our trail. 

The lizard

We finish the hike. It is still late morning. Daisy throws her sweat-shirt on the hood of our car. I tell her, " Daisy, put it into the car!" She walks over to the swings and asks: "Can I have U-Swirl?"