Of Bears and Salmon and Lake Tahoe

Did you know that landlocked Kokanee salmon spawn up a creek at Lake Tahoe after spending most of their lives feeding in the freshwater lake? I didn’t until we happened upon a crowd we thought had stopped to see the bright October foliage. Below us the creek was red with salmon, vying for spawning ground, some within an arms reach away. And a short way up the creek was a cinnamon colored black bear gorging herself on the fish (a fairly rare occurence since these bears are mostly vegetarians), while her cub hid in the brush, somewhat afraid of all the human activity near her mama. It was one of those wildlife events that make living in northern California the pleasure, and often adventure, that it is. This was not something seen on the web or an iPhone app or a PBS special, all a few steps removed from the real thing. We were actually there, taking it all in with our own eyes. And the crowd was courteous and helpful, with some offering information about the fish and the bear and their habits. Before long the sated bear ambled upstream, perhaps for a nap and to search for that rascal cub, and the crowd moved on, the main attraction over for the time being.

It was great to see people stop to view this spectacle of nature, this graphic scene of integrated life cycles unfolding in its elegance and rawness. These salmon were accidentally introduced in 1944 so they are relatively new to the eco-system, but they like the arrangement very much. Their numbers are stable, kept in check by active wildlife management by the Department of Fish and Game. The species remain healthy as a result of keeping numbers at a sustainable level. The DFG also operates hatcheries, stocking mountain lakes throughout California with Kokanee salmon, a very tasty game fish. Here at Tahoe, the fish only use one creek, Taylor Creek, to spawn during October each year. The sight (and smell of dead fish) is over-powering, with fish filling the creek bank to bank. And like their Sockeye brothers and sisters to the north, they die after laying their eggs, their life mission complete after their fling in the great alpine lake. You can even see the fish underwater in the creek itself, thanks to a viewing room built by the Forest Service at their visitor center. I’ve never seen anything quite like it as fish approach and try to jump past a natural dam on their epic journey upstream. One little boy shouted “Wow!” when he first entered, which was pretty great seeing something other than a video game excite him.

The rest of our Tahoe trip was filled with aspens turning yellow and orange in the bracing fall air and the bright, sharp light of early fall in the Sierras. At Paige Meadows near Tahoe City, a golden eagle soared on the currents. And at Emerald Bay we sat on rocks and watched a paddlewheeler tour boat move at 19th century speed on water so green it matched the forest around it. We hiked up to Angora Lakes above the destructive fire of a few years ago, now part of a ghostly landscape of tombstone trees and patches of green shoots starting its natural process of reclamation. Tahoe is filled with elemental energy, which is why it attracts us so. It is developed, yes, but nature still reigns supreme.

Today we hiked up past Eagle Falls to Eagle Lake, a gem in a setting of granite, a repeat of the first hike Ruth and I took after we eloped to Tahoe ten years ago. The day was clear and cool and bright with fall colors. No eagles but many people lined the trail–friendly, Hi-Line people who offered many hellos, some even stopping to chat. Our species is much maligned around denigrating nature but most of us are quiet and respectful. Throughout our hiking adventures at Tahoe, I’ve seen little to no litter, a sign of the love people feel for this place. Unfortunately the minority who do the wrong thing get most of the press. This is my small effort to counter that.

Still, there is some trouble in paradise. In the late 1960s UC Davis researchers started measuring the lake’s clarity throughout the year by lowering a white Secchi disk, named after its inventor, Italian scientist Angelo Secchi, at two fixed locations. The depth at which the disk, the size of a dinner plate, disappears from sight is referred to as the Secchi depth, a measurement of clarity. Back then the depth was about 100 feet. Today, they use the same method and the Secchi depth is only about 70 feet. That’s a problem and the reason for the Keep Tahoe Blue bumper stickers. Pollution, mainly from old septic systems, does enter this amazing alpine lake, with only one outlet, the Truckee River, to flush it clean. It’s a pity it wasn’t originally declared a National Park, but so be it. It is what it is, and what it is a place where people and nature co-exist in relative harmony. Let’s show the world how possible and beautiful that can be.

Fair winds and happy trails.

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Some of our favorite places in and around West Lake Tahoe and Tahoe City:

Granlibakkan Resort and Conference Center

Tahoe House Bakery and Cafe

New Moon Natural Foods

Evergreen Restaurant

Sugar Pine Point State Park

Blackwood Canyon

Emerald Bay

Eagle Falls and Eagle Lake Trails

Paige Meadows

Commons Beach at Tahoe City at sunset

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