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 Nov., 1908 219 FROM BIG CREEK TO BIG BASIN By MILTON S. RAY WITH TWO PHOTOS BY OLUF J. HEINEMANN T was early in th afternoon of June 10, 1908, that Oluf J. Heinemann and the writer arrived at Swanton. We had journeyed from Capitola to Folger by rail, from which place a short walk brought us to Swanton, which lies on and near the mouth of Big Creek. It was here that our road branched off leading up the Big Creek Canyon and over the mountains to the Big Basin. With packs on our backs, which, besides blankets, held provisions for one week, we tramped along the thickly foliaged road which winds along with the creek, stopping occasionally to pluck the wild blackberries which grew in such pro- fusion. I do not know of a more picturesque gorge anywhere in Santa Cruz County-than the Big Creek Canyon. The territory is wild, and with the exception of the power station at the foot of the grade and the lonely cabins at the dam on the summit, the whole region is peopled only by those furred and leathered dwel- lers who have held forth since primitive times. After leaving the power station the road ascends abruptly, so steeply that it bars almost everyone except he be on horseback or afoot. It is the steepest road I have ever traveled, for not even those impromptu dairy roads leading to the sum- mer pasture lands in the high Sierras can compare with it. Our pack weighed about forty pounds and the steepness of the road, and the heat of the day accentu- ated the weight. Thus we meandered rather leisurely and more so as we disliked to miss any of the entrancing views of this heavily wooded canyon, still in all its primeval beauty, but soon, it is said, to be stripped as many others in the country have to the last vestige. It was almost six o'clock when we reached the group of cabins at the Boyea creek dam on the summit. Failing to find anyone about we proceeded to make ourselves comfortable in an empty bungalow, when Oscar Ewald, who has charge of the dam,made his appearance and with a hearty hospitality insisted on our shar- ing the best he had to offer. Even at six o'clock, when we arrived, it was still quite a while before sunset and we sat before Ewald's cabin enjoying the rare view, for the lake, lofty trees and other surroundings strongly reminded one of those incomparable Sierran landscapes. Nearby, at a pretty little stream, Boyea Creek, which led from the dam, a Winter Wren (JVannus hiemalis pac[qcus) was pouring forth a crystal song, trilling in that silvery way, which altho it seems almost continually on a single key is ex- tremely beautiful. A finished artist like the winter wren, it seems, does not need the range of notes that are given to a meadow lark or grosbeak. In the giant spruces and redwoods which towered above, dwarfing the cabins, Coast Jays (Cy- anocilla slelleri carbonacea), the conspicuous bird of this section, limb by limb were ascending the great trees or anon would assemble in the rear of the cabin to dispute ownership with Ewald's cats over a dish of provender, while out among their nests in the dead trees standing in the clear waters of the lake Brewer Black- birds (EulShagus cyanocelShalus) discussed matters in their characteristic way. Ewald was a man of wide experience: for many years he had been to sea, visit- ing all four corners of the earth, and around the evening fire many a tale he told of other lands, tho, too, much of hunting, fishing and trapping in these wilds; for here coons, foxes, deer, wild cats and even the lordly California lions still abound.