Dispatch #18 - Trinity Wild and Scenic River, California

Book Tour, Reviews, and Blackberry Magic on the Banks of the Trinity

Aug 03, 2025

Good morning from the lively San Francisco neighborhood of North Beach. I'm writing from an old ballroom within the Green Tortoise Hostel — twenty-five-foot ceilings, stained carpet, beat up arcade games and big open windows — where my son and I set up base camp for a week of book tour events around the Bay.

I’m still processing the dreams that came true last week, namely, being in conversation with some of my heroes from the conservation, literary, and artistic worlds. That included Wade Crowfoot, Nicholas Triolo, and fellow Heyday author Obi Kaufmann. We shared rich dialogue, guided by thoughtful questions and curious, generous audience Q&As. It was a celebration of both books and bookstores — Clio’s in Oakland and Green Apple in San Francisco. Sitting in these institutions of progress and truth, surrounded by thousands of other stories, brought happy tears.

The reviews keep coming on Amazon and Goodreads and I am grateful for each one. In the weeks preceding the book launch, my son asked me if I was ready for the bad reviews that would inevitably come. Yes, I had told him. And yet… that first 2-star rating on Goodreads still felt like a harsh kick to the shin.

If you have read and enjoyed the book, I’d be so grateful if you took a few minutes to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads (or both!). Every kind word will help strengthen my shins for future kicks. :)

And Now, This:

Welcome to Northwest California’s Trinity River.

The river begins high in the rugged Trinity Alps and winds through steep, forested mountains before merging with the (newly freed!!!) Klamath. A fallen madrone branch in the headwaters — perhaps snapped off by a climbing black bear — would drift two hundred miles downstream before meeting the Klamath, and then another forty-four miles before the boulder bruised and battered limb would meet the salty waters of the Pacific.

Called Hun’ by the Hoopa people, the river holds deep significance for both wildlife and community. The Hoopa Valley and Yurok Tribes have lived along its banks for thousands of years, and have served as stewards of the river, standing at the front lines of efforts to protect its waters and uphold Tribal sovereignty and environmental justice. I’m reminded of Robert Macfarlane’s sentiments in Is A River Alive?

Rivers run through people as surely as they run through places.

My home for three days of exploration was the BLM-managed Steel Bridge Campground, with thirteen sites tucked beneath a canopy of Douglas fir, ponderosa pine, and incense cedar. On a Sunday, there were just three other campers: one in a tent and two sitting in lawn chairs outside a vintage Volkswagen bus.

I focused my time on the seventeen-mile stretch of the Trinity that the BLM manages between the charming towns of Lewiston and Junction City (see map below), dropping into every trail and river access point I could find for walking, swimming, and boulder hopping.

Known for its legendary salmon and steelhead fishing, the Trinity (along with its North and South Forks) also draws rafters, kayakers, swimmers, campers, and backpackers to its clear, green waters.

The Trinity is one of ten federally designated Wild and Scenic Rivers managed by the BLM in California. I previously covered the Eel River in Dispatch #3 and the Merced River in Dispatch #4.

Wild blackberries (Rubus ursinus) were the first to greet me along a trail lining the riverbank near the campground. They were so delicious and plump I stopped hearing the sound of the flowing river just steps away, my eyes and gut suddenly transfixed by the need to consume. Once I picked my fill, I walked back to the campsite for a bowl, filled it to the brim and then stashed it in the ice chest for a late night dessert. Willow, rough horsetail, dogwood, fir saplings, and a hundred other species I couldn’t identify filled in the rest of the scene.

Can we just pause to appreciate how vital Rubus ursinus is to the ecosystem, whether or not humans are part of the equation? This native bramble builds entire worlds beneath our notice: shelter for sparrows and jays, a nursery for thrashers and towhees, and forage for deer, black bear, and a host of small mammals. It also plays a quiet role in restoration: able to root in poor soils, its dense network of stems and rhizomes stabilizes streambanks and disturbed ground. Its blossoms offer nectar to native bees, and its leaves nourish the young of butterflies like the western tiger swallowtail and spring azure, making it a keystone for pollinators and biodiversity alike.

A quiet architect of return, resilience, and wild continuity.

Currents along the river were still swift in late summer, my hands pulled downstream as I scooped up a handful of water and splashed it against my face. The cool water running below my knees was a soothing relief to ninety-seven-degree heat that had baked me all three days. Only at night did the temperature drop to more acceptable levels, falling by thirty degrees in the dusk hours, the perfect setting for a campfire. The flickering snaps and pops were the only sounds to cut through the incessant flow of water.

I ate the blackberries slowly by the fire, their sweetness lingering as the heat of the day faded and the forest exhaled into darkness.

Planning A Visit

There are four first-come, first-served campgrounds along the Trinity River:

Steel Bridge: $15 per night
Steiner Flat Primitive: Free but currently closed
Douglas City: $20 per night
Junction City: $15 per night

From the campgrounds, numerous footpaths weave along the river, allowing you to explore freely, at least until the forest or a patch of poison oak turns you around. You’ll also find a scenic loop trail in the beautiful Weaverville Community Forest along West Weaver Creek, as well as the Lowden Field and Union Pond trailheads.

There are 11 designated river access points along this stretch of the Trinity, ideal for dropping in a canoe, kayak, or float when the flows are low and safe.

For local questions about road conditions or river flows, contact the BLM field office in Redding: 530-224-2100.

The Trinity River Restoration Program (TRRP) plays a pivotal role in reviving the Trinity River’s ecological integrity, particularly its populations of Chinook salmon, coho salmon, and steelhead. The multi-agency initiative seeks to restore the river’s natural form and function while still supporting water and power deliveries downstream.

So grateful to have you here as we roam the incredibly diverse public lands managed by the Bureau of Land Management across the American West. I hope these dispatches are as useful as they are inspirational, and that they help you find your way outside.

I’ll be back in your inbox next Sunday, bright and early.

Josh