Awesome Field Guide: John Muir Laws
from John Muir Laws new natural history book
I love books. I always have. I love to be surrounded by them. Books have always offered me a warm loving home. When I was growing up, I saved my money to buy books, even though I practically lived at the library. There is something about owning a book, being able to return to it, to hold it.
As a naturalist, as an outdoor adventurer and as a writer, I especially love field guides–I even have a whole collection of Petersen Guides, and most of the Audubon ones. As an avid birder for over 20 years, I have a beautiful collection of bird books. Many of these I purchased but I am also grateful to have inherited the library of travelers, educators, and naturalists Blanche and Herb Elkins who owned and operated a film strip company in the 60s and 70s.
So when I spied a new field guide to the Sierra Nevada, I told the Big Monkey, “We’re going to buy this field guide” in a tone of voice that said no questions or comments (like, don’t you think you have enough books already??)
Before I have much of a chance to look at it, the Big Monkey was fully engrossed in it, sitting at the picnic table in a Sierra Nevada campsite and checking it out with the boy beside him.
“How did you know this was going to be such a great book?” he asked.
cover to the new field guide by John Muir Laws
Well I told him Read more…
boots by Rick Mobbs; poem by Art Predator
there were shoes on this trail
first one tennis shoe
a running shoe actually
a left left behind
along the cottonwood lakes trail above 10000′
a lonely place for a left shoe
someone placed it neatly on a rock
as if its owner might jog back for it
too big for me
i keep walking
next a flip flop
a large flip flop
a giant flip flop
so big that its leaving of
its owner had to be noticed
on a rock on the right side of the trail
it sits
an arrow it
points downhill
waits
a river rests still where it landed
who said that? why?
one time hiking north hungry
post bear dinner taking
we found
three small yellow crook necked squash
apologizing to the deer
we cooked them in our soup
grateful to whoever it was
who grew them
who left them along the creek
in the high sierra
another flip flop found
this one small:
why bring a flip flop for a child?
after hiking, this small foot should wear
more, something warm, something to protect toes from
stubbing, feet from mosquitoes
years ago we found a tiny leather sandle
on the Pacific Crest Trail
we were sure it belonged to Jesus
we picked it up and attached it to a pack
carried it across Oregon
carried it across Washington
figured one day we’d catch up with the baby Jesus
return his sandle to Mary
instead we found Canada
and one day lost the shoe
a river shoe my size is lost
out on the trail to North Dome in Yosemite
did someone find it–
gracefully place it on a rock or log
leave it there for me to never find
did someone claim it like i did this green shirt
i have just taken from the line
folded and placed with my clothes
camp kern it says 1996
bald eagle’s yellow talons clasp a tree branch
a sequia behind it rising up against sierra flanks
its mouth open–
hello hello hello
For other poems with paintings check out readwritepoem. For other poems, take a ride on the poetry train. For more stories about hiking in the west, check out other posts in this series (for example, Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 which are previous, and Days 8, 9 and 10 still to come!)
Day 7: Trip 2 Town
Whereas fishing with a stick on Sotcher Lake and the Middle Fork of the San Joaquin River hasn’t worked out too well (for us–the fish are doing fine!), and
whereas we like it here at Reds Meadow Campground so much we’ve decided to stay longer requiring a resupply,
we’re on the shuttle heading for the Town of Mammoth on the eastern side of the sierra crest. We paid for the shuttle priviledge when we drove in: $7 per adult and $4 per child, all you care to ride. The driver /tour guide points out the sights and answers questions. There’s plenty of room on the shuttle during the week but on the weekend, he warns, it fills up and sometimes they have to send in extras to accommodate the crowds.
The Reds Meadow shuttle takes us up over the crest of the sierra at Minarets Pass then lets us out at the Mammoth Mountain ski area parking lot where the Big Monkey grabs his bike from storage underneath the bus. He’ll ride down while we’ll take the bus that brings the bicyclists and their rides back up. In the summer, the ski area becomes a mountain bike heaven with rides like “Kamikazi” where riders attain speeds of up to 60 mph and wear full on protective garb including motorcycle helmets, shin guards, and chest plates. Cyclists pay Read more…
Day 6: a Mataro finish
DAY 6 AFTER DINNER: Reds Meadow, Inyo National Forest
I am about to take my first sip of mataro, a grape I had never heard of before I bought this wine in April 2008, at the Grateful Palate Imports sale. Since I love the RBJ–that would be Chris Ringland, Bruce, and Johnstone– theologicum grenache/mourverde blend so much, and find it such a deeply satisfying wine, Alex Sabad encouraged me to pick up a bottle of their 2002 Mataro theologicum. And since I understand now that Mataro is another name for mourverde, I guess I do know it…a little!
Since we’re camping and cooking instead of doing hotels and restaurants, and we’re not traveling to Washington state and back like we planned do to $5 a gallon gas prices, we’re living it up by drinking GREAT wine every night; I brought a half case of Aussie wines with us! And if you’ve been following this blog journey in the eastern Sierra, you’ve heard a bit about those wines along the way!
So now let me set the scene: Reds Meadow campground, 7600’ Sierra Nevada. Freshly showered in hot springs water in the an old concrete bathhouse maintained by donations and volunteers. Post dinner of what do we still have cuz we’re still here when we were going to leave today but not too bad combo of italian pesto tortellinis and Indian food (and some classy, yummy Lengs and Cooter 2005 shiraz!!)
Sun setting leaves an orange glow on the granite plutons revealed by glaciation. Moon directly in front above the alders hiding creek, someone singing around a campfire—the millionth rendition of John Denver’s “Take me home country roads.” I could probably have opened Boones Farm and been happy (except I wouldn’t have been able to drink the wine! I could barely drink it when I was 18 and could buy it at the gas station/liquor store on Telegraph by the college that’s long gone).
I chose this RBJ Mataro knowing it foretells a special experience to match the night. Save the mosquitoes which flutter my face and my bare legs, I am content. I open the wine (love these screwtops!!) pour some into my green Mexican glass, drinking in the dark ruby color as it descends. Even in the green glass, this is a pretty wine.
I don’t bother to swirl—instead toast the night and drink deep. Wow, this is good! Different–surprising! Earthy–and hmmn, wild! meat? pork loin? or wild boar? then Spicy! Vibrant! Blackberry, no, boysenberry? Red licorice a little, now a hint of anise too. I want to say sage but I have been surrounded by it and that may be the influence. Not as heavy as the 2005 Lengs and Cooter Victor shiraz I finished at dinner, but almost like a good kona coffee—it might be lighter bodied than say sumatra but I don’t care if the flavor is there. While this Mataro doesn’t taste like coffee, something does remind me of yemen mocha. And there, at the end, the finish, it’s minerally, earthy again in a really great, complex, fascinating way. Overall, a fabulous wine, maybe my favorite although that Chris Ringland Ebenezer Shiraz is hard to beat–it has so much pizzazz! In the mataro, the tannins are present, provide some structure and would let it age more if desired—but why wait when the pleasure today is so palpable? Except maybe to taste it in a better glass…however, the setting couldn’t be better. A perfect pairing: this wild day, this wild wine.
Today. A good day. Again. Amen.
Day 6: Devil’s Postpile
A National Park Service ranger leads a walk at 11am daily to the Devils Postpile
from the Ranger Station and today is the day we’re going along too.
But first, we’re moving from our lovely but sunny site next to the hikers for one under more pines and along the creek. Once we’re somewhat established, and have stashed some drinks and a watermelon in the creek, we make the 1.2 mile dash along the mostly level trail, crossing creeks, spying fish, towing the boy, and passing by the Postpile to make the 11am walk and talk.
About a dozen people join us, including a family covered in mosquito bites. They’d been backpacking with their 6 year old daughter and 10 year old son in the lakes basin and the mosquitoes sent them packing, literally. You could have quite an entertaining game of connect the dots on their poor legs!
While most of us were there to hear about the Devil’s Postpile, the Ranger took the opportunity to talk about Read more…
Day 5: On a mission to go fishin’
Day 5: On a mission to go fishin’ — Middle Fork San Joaquin River, Sierra
The Big Monkey wondered at first what we’d do for more than a day or two down here in Reds Meadow along the San Joaquin River near Devil’s Postpile National Monument
. Now he never wants to leave!
Today we hiked from our campsite near the hot springs shower to the store and café to check it out. We’d heard from the PCTers and JMTers that the food in the café was good, especially the homemade pie! The boy wants to go fishing, so we need to get some tackle—maybe a pole, certainly some hooks and bait. Plus we need ice!
The trail to the store area leaves the campsite near the showers, climbs a little, traverses the hillside above the meadow, and crosses two small creeks before dropping to the small cabins and motel rooms available to rent. It’s an easy walk and offers views of the meadow, the granitic outcroppings, and lots of wildflowers beside, below, and above the trail including one of my favorites, leopard lilies, a striking orange spire against the green backdrop.
The store sells the usual back country goods—cold beer, ice, souveniers, dried goods, fishing poles, and various kinds of necessary tackle. Since it’s the idea of fishing that attracts the 4 year old, we pass on the $40 fishing pole when I convince him we could do it the old fashioned way with a stick, line, hooks and bait. As he’d already been collecting “fishing poles,” he went with it.
We passed by the crowded café and returned to camp, where we packed up for a hike to Rainbow Falls Read more…
Day 4: PCT Through Hiking & Reds Meadow
After a leisurely breakfast of delicious french toast made with raison walnut bread from Schat’s famous bakery in Bishop (the secret of great French toast is to use exceptional bread, one egg per person, equal amounts milk plus a tablespoon or two, and soak for a long time!), we headed north along Highway 395 toward Reds Meadow Campground near the ski area of Mammoth.
We’re anxious about getting a campsite since this is such a popular summer destination for hiking, fishing and sightseeing so following a quick resupply at the huge upscale Vons in Mammoth, we climb to 9,000 Minarets Pass which will take us from the east side of the sierra to the west.
If we don’t get a campsite, we won’t be able to drive our van there, and we will have to change our plans and go elsewhere which will be hugely disappointing as I haven’t been to this scenic area since I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail in the 1980s.
Reds Meadow became so overrun with cars after they paved the road in 1978 the US Forest Service established a mandatory shuttle service in 1990. Fears that paving it would be the first leg in a trans-Sierra highway delayed the road’s construction for years. In one of his best acts as governor, in 1972 Ronald Reagan kept the road from happening and was instrumental in protecting the area which now includes the Ansel Adams wilderness.
Because Reds Meadow is so popular, unless you are headed to a campsite (and you have to sign an affadafit saying you will spend the night regardless of weather, bugs or flush toilets etc!), you must ride one of the shuttles which run from the Mammoth Mountain ski area to the end of the road at Reds Meadow and back with 10 stops along the way. Shuttles leave there as early as 715am, and leave Red’s Meadow at 8am. The last shuttle leaves the meadow at 745pm.
We were in luck: according to the whiteboard at the pass, 9 campsites were still available at Red’s Meadow as well as sites at numerous other campgrounds in the valley several of which dot the banks of the Middle Fork of the San Joaquin River. The road down the mountain is mostly one-way—it’s that narrow with a steep drop-off 2,000’ down to Starkweather Lake, and you can take a trail down on foot if you want.
Views of the Minarets, Minaret Falls, and the wildflower filled meadow easily distracts white knuckled drivers but soon we are down. We pass by the entrances to the 17 site Agnew Meadows (vault toilets and 17 sites at 8,400’ with lots of flowers and mosquitoes!), Upper Soda Springs (vault toilets and 28 sites at 7,700’ and fishing), Pumice Flat (flush toilets and 17 sites at 7,700’ and fishing), Minaret Falls (vault toilets and 27 sites at 7,700’ some with views of the falls and fishing), NPS’s 21 site Devil’s Postpile Monument Campground along the San Joaquin River, and finally arrive at our destination, Reds Meadow, with flush toilets, 52 sites spread out over a large meadowed area at 7,600’ and HOT mineral water!! Reds Meadow also has a short trail conveniently connecting the campground to the store and café.
We cruise the campground then get out and walk it before deciding to camp next to the hiker camp since we know they won’t have any noisy generators and will be tired to be much into staying late and being rowdy! Plus the site is lovely with views of a meadow and rock walls, pine trees for shade, and it’s conveniently close to the hot water!
As we set up, I get into a conversation with a through Pacific Crest Trail hiker. No a through hiker isn’t someone who’s through with hiking! A through hiker is someone doing the whole PCT in one season. It’s been 20 years since I did the whole PCT, but it seems like yesterday—my memories Read more…
Day 3: Hot Springs Connoisseur
Day 3: Keough’s Hot Springs, 7 miles south of Bishop just off Highway 395, Eastern Sierra, California
Someone recently tried to convince me that I am a wine connoisseur. No—not yet anyway! A connoisseur to me means someone experienced, knowledgeable, an expert of sorts. I would admit to being a connoisseur of life, of exceptional places, and a few others things..but not yet wine.
Hot springs of the American west? Of that I am a connoisseur. I have tasted, experienced, evaluated, judged, tested the waters, and the soul of hot springs all over the western US and beyond—California, Nevada, Oregon, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Mexico, even Peru. Maybe even Washington, I can’t remember. I have soaked in the desert, the mountains, the redwoods, the coast, along the interstate, and a day or two hike into the wilderness. A friend of mine from high school, now a geothermal hydrologist, at one of our high school reunions tried to impress me with knowledge of this or that obscure soak—but I knew them all, and some he didn’t.
Keough’s Hot Springs is not in my Top 10. Probably not in my Top 20.
1) They are commercial—they charge $8 for adults and $4 for kids to allow you to soak in a large cement 3′ deep pool kept at 104 degrees or to play in a larger, deeper pool kept just below body temperature.
2) They are commercial—you are soaking in a cement pool in your swimsuit.
3) You have to wear a swimsuit and you are surrounded by people, a fence and cement.
You can soak (but not camp) nearby on the run-off on LA’s DW&P land under the power lines but the last two times I’ve been there so have a few unsavory characters and broken glass, and now that I have a child, I am more inclined to make different choices.
On the positive side, the pools are chlorine free because the water flows through the pool so quickly chemicals are unnecessary (600 gallons of 127 degree water per minute!) and it’s hot (HOT! 127 degrees!) mineral water fed springs, and much of the picnic and camping area is surrounded by large green soft grass. AHHhhh , grass. Bare feet. It will be an additional $26 for us to stay here but that’s ok. We’ll take the grass and the views of the White Mountains and the sage and the quiet.
The pool is open 10-8pm most days and 10-9pm on Friday and Saturdays; $8 for adults and $4 for kids, even if you’re camping there. Ignore the snotty high school girls who work there.
After playing in the pool and getting nice and clean, we barbequed chicken which we bought at Carroll’s Market in Big Pine. The RBJ 2000 Theologicum, a blend of grenache and moutverde which we cooled off in a bucket of cold water, went well with the chicken and mushroom tortellina pasta with zuccini we had as a side. It was even better after we put the boy to bed, dipped the bucket in the hot creek to soak our feet in, and exchanged foot massages!
Like the 2001, the 2000 RBJ theologicum is nicely balanced…not too fruity or heavy, just a super smooth enjoyable, drinkable wine much like the 2001 (but given a choice I prefer the 2001). I am certainly becoming a fan of Chris Ringland wines!
And just in case you’re wondering, Bagby Hot Springs– near Portland Oregon, on the flanks of Mount Hood, in an old growth forest, where you soak in a cedar log–Bagby Hot Springs may be my favorite soak yet…although I am very very fond of Guadelupe Hot Springs near the Laguna Salada in Baja Mexico…and Saline Valley near Death Valley will always have a special place in my heart…This is obviously the start of a different post!
Cali-fire-nation
The views from the White Mountains across the hot dry Owen’s Valley to the Sierra typically overwhelm even the most jaded traveler with superlatives.
On our recent trip to the Eastern Sierra, however, our views came and went with the winds and fires (some 1400 burning in the state). We could smell the smoke in the southern part of the valley near the Kennedy Meadow Paiute fire, and friends who’d just been up to Cottonwood Pass had said it was smoky at times so we were prepared.
On Day 1 and 2 of our trip, the smoke wasn’t too bad but on Day 3, when we hung out in the Owen’s Valley for the afternoon and the evening, we could barely see the sierra, we didn’t like breathing in the smoky air, and we were grateful we weren’t hiking in the back country.
When I backpacked the California section of the PCT in the 80s, we left the trail near Yosemite and hiked back to Mammoth since we were unsure whether there was fire ahead. Turned out the smoke the clouded our views and destroyed our lungs came from a fire in Ojai, but that the trail from Glen Aulin to Sonora Pass was closed anyway so we had to take a week off.
In California, the smoke from coastal fires gets swept up high and east; smoke from northern fires can blow south, and southern ones north. You never know where the smoke is coming from.
Here are some pictures from the recent Califire-nation more:
Dan Philips Grateful Palate & my high altitude dreamin’
When I was in college, my environmental lit and writing class taught by Page Stegner (Wallace Stegner’s son) went on a rafting trip through the goosenecks on the San Juan River in the American Southwest. I traveled there with other students in climber Mike Carville’s brand new VW pop-up Westfalia campervan, and we stopped on the way at his dad’s place at Northstar Lake Tahoe which he was developing. That night I had a very vivid and strange dream which included walking in a leather mini-skirt along a trail in the redwoods; it was night but there was a raven and a glowing banana slug talking and walking with me. In the morning, over coffee, Read more…
art predator 