Wild Life in the Wild West

When contemplating going into the high Sierras it can stir the memory of the times a bear has been encountered or perhaps the long nose and sleek coat of a fox was spotted, or when dark beaded eyes shared a moment's recognition.   So when walking quietly on the needles of the forest floor, how could I not take this picture of this winsome wild life?

   Do you see him?   He posed ever so briefly and then our time together was over.  It is none the less remarkable how a small creature out doing his creature business in the land where he was born and raised can give  delight.

   This was our destination...the maps do not name this  granite dome but do note that the top is 8736 feet elevation.  We named it Gumdrop.

                                                  A tree at the foot of Gumdrop Hill.

                                               The views as the climb begins.

                          From the top of Gumdrop looking north and eastward.

                                                                                  .

   Pretty in every direction, this is a view toward the dam which is at the southern end of Courtright Resevoir reservoir.

                                  Mark thought I might need proof that I got up there...
there were a few "inch by inch it's a cinch moments."

 Later in the afternoon, Mark took me out in the canoe.

We pulled up on the far shore which was a huge granite  slab dotted with large stones that had rolled to rest. 

 I wandered a bit, head down poking around in the driftwood amongst the boulders when suddenly a large eagle flew directly over my head.  I was so glad I looked up  from my beach combing.

    Mark captured  these pictures.  I had left my camera behind not confident that I wouldn't somehow take it for a swim.   Mark got me back  safe and dry...I should have known.

                  Our dear hostess took this photo of me,  as I was scribbling away before the fire.                   Now you know the truth, we weren't even roughing it...wild life indeed.

A Moment of Quiet in a Forest of California Sierra Mountain Giant Sequoia Trees

On the way up into the California Sierra mountains, in the mixed conifer forest between Dinkey Creek and  Courtright Reservoir, is a grove of Sequoia Trees that have never been logged. 

McKinley Grove is a small grove, but they are giant trees. Giant sequoias, Sequoiadendron giganteum, are the world's largest trees.  They only grow between 5,000 to 8,000 feet elevation.  

As early as 1869, or maybe from the trees point of view, as late as 1869, ( they are after all  among the oldest living things on the earth, as some of them are estimated to be 2,000 years old)  this grove was discovered by explorers. 

 A local pioneer and lover of the Sierras, Frank Dusy, named it the "General Washington Grove."  Later, for a time, the name was changed to  "Dusy Grove" to honor Dusy who died in 1898.  There is still a creek named Dusy Creek.  The grove remained in the public domain until the establishment of the Sierra Forest Reserve in 1893.  In the early 1900's it was renamed by Robert Marshal  in recognition of the 25th president of the United States.  Robert Marshal had a doctorate in forestry and the vision to protect the grove.  The  Forest Service continues to manage and  preserve this rare and historical resource.

   

                                      The tallest tree towers over 230 feet.

 And no matter how good of a hugger you might be, you can't wrap your arms around the diameter of these trees.  The largest tree still standing in the grove is 20.3 feet in diameter.  There are over two hundred trees that are over  6 feet in diameter.   These three folks, like many other people, had their photo taken in front of one of the trees. While I trust they don't mind being used to establish relative size, I believe their identities shall remain one of the mysteries of the Sierras.  

                                    Mark has unabashedly agreed to pose on this lovely tree foot for us...and he helped me figure out what the circumference of such a tree would be using pi (3.14) x the diameter = 63.8 feet.  

This was the second time I have seen the grove.  We stopped but briefly and then it was time to wind on up another several thousand feet to our destination.  I'll hope to post some more photos  taken over the next three days and a bit about the Courtright area.  In the meantime, you can see the post and pictures from last year's visit here.

I hope you have enjoyed reading a bit about the history of this place. I wondered last year how the granite sloped lovely creek called "Dinkey" got it's name and writing up this post tonight I found two different stories.  While the two versions differ, they both agree that Dinkey was a dog.  In one recounting Dinkey the dog was out with four hunters who got into a fight with a bear and Dinkey was injured near the creek.

In several archives I found that Frank Dusy had a summer residence at Dinkey creek and one story says he named the creek after his dog.   A bear story is also associated with him.  Follow the link on his name up above if you would like to know more of that story.

It must have been quite an adventure discovering and exploring this terrain in those days.  Even  powering  up a paved road in a comfortable car  I certainly was in awe.  

Sierra Mountain Cabin Visit

I have been living at sea level for four years.  Well maybe a few feet up, because we live on a granite cliff, not a beach...but still not too high up.

*Note to Grandma Beth: Click the photos to enlarge them, then use your back arrow to return to the blog.

This last week a lovely woman kidnapped me and took me to the mountains for a few September days.  I have beautiful pictures, or perhaps I should say I took pictures of beautiful places.  My photos are but a faint reminder of the beauty in it's fullness, but come along and I'll share what I can.  Here's the area where we headed...a cabin in Courtright Village near the southern tip of this map. This picture I took of the sign at the Le Conte Divide...but I better not get ahead of myself.

Leaving the Monterey Peninsula , the central coast of California, we crossed through the hills that lie between  coast highway 1 and the inland 101 and then headed east through the mission town of San Juan Bautista past the golden grasses, brown soil and green crops of  California's central valley.  The Pacific Ocean now behind us, the air grew hot and hazy.   In the air conditioned car I had a sack of  raw almonds to munch and cold  bottled water.   We passed almond and  fig tree groves and dusty vineyards, as well as many field crops and always there were people, working in the fields. 

 I was delighted in catching up with my friend ( I just found out she linked to this blog, so I've added a link to her blog at the end...no longer anon she is Gretchen) and watched mile by mile the environs change.  At the town of Madera where you can access highway 41 to Yosemite we turned to Highway 168.

This neighborhood of  redwoods, sunflowers, and grasses is in downtown Shaver Lake in the Sierra National Forest, elevation 5500 ft. It's the town of last supplies.

We already had everything, and then some, that we needed for our four nights, 

so we didn't stop in town.

                                                      

                  We kept heading up the tree lined  roads ...

past little roadside rocks...

     ~And stopped to look back toward the valley from whence we'd come~

      One day we checked out Dinky Creek. I am not kidding, that is its name.

  " Bark," I have read, is not a technical term.

                                ~ what small part of this tree I pictured ~

The foot of a large tree in the McKinley Grove where the biggest Giant Sequoia currently measures  20.3 feet in diameter.

   As we made our way up the road the moon rose in the sky.

 ~young trees on the edge of the road scramble down roots for a spot~

 A wonderful tree that made me read trees books in the night.   While I do know the basic distinctions...
some of the trees I met reminded me that is all I know.

      I did remember that the cones of a true Fir Tree are always upright.

Rocks of immense dimensions roll and slide and slam their way to where they come to rest, the angle of repose.  So many of the rocks on the uphill side of the road demonstrate this law of physics, but other laws could as easily be on display if given variables change.

 Angle of Repose   is the title of a Wallace Stegner novel that takes place in California terrain.  The term lends itself  to much metaphor.



After considering many possibilities

              We decided that the species of small coned pines are Lodgepole.

      This is the southern end of Courtright Reservoir but we aren't quite yet where we are going. I took this picture the second or third day of our visit...that first afternoon we had to keep moving but already snatches of  the American poet Longfellow's "Song of Hiawatha", which he wrote in 1855's and that I memorized in part in 7th grade, had been triggered in my memory:     
                
                                      Dark behind it rose the forest,
                                      Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
                                      Rose the firs with cones upon them;
                                      Bright before it beat the water,

                                      Beat the clear and sunny water,

During our visit we had clear sunny days and

beautiful clouds too.

This is subalpine country...we were at about 8200 feet  elevation.

         Just before nightfall we got to the cabin...we turned on the water, started warming up things up and made our beds.  No fancy cooking the first night. We didn't exactly have to rough it....this is my room as I left it the last morning.

       The first morning in Courtright this is the view I woke to and what one can see from the deck.
                                                          It's a real fine place to be.

                Of course as soon as I got home to the cool coast

I had to take a picture of  the last light of that day on the sweet blue sea. It too, is a real fine place to be.

I took lots more pictures in the mountains...153 to be exact...but I'm not going to show you all of them. But just imagine... rocks and trees and water and sky and trees and rocks ....there's lots of them "up there"and I am glad for that, and glad for a friend that shared her family's special place with me.

Gretchen took pictures too and here's one I took of her.

~~~