Michele and I went to Pyramid Lake, Nevada to see the eclipse. (Photo above grabbed from the web.) Well, more accurately, Michele went to Pyramid Lake to see the eclipse – because the center line of the eclipse path went over the southern part of the lake – and I went because I wanted to see the people watching the eclipse. We met Michele’s sister at the family cabin in Squaw Valley and then drove the long way to Pyramid.
Starting at Squaw in the Sierras, we drove north through pines and aspens to Sierraville where we semi-picniced.
Sierraville is a scenic little town at the western edge of a large valley – surprisingly enough, named Sierra Valley – that grows drier as we drive to Nevada, heading east and getting deeper into the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevadas. By mid afternoon, we ended up at the north end of Pyramid Lake and saw our first Eclipsers.
From there, we worked our way south to where Michele had figured would be the optimum viewing place. We found the perfect place: great eclipse viewing for Michele and great wacko people viewing for me. And I mean wacko people in the best possible way; anybody willing to drive this far to see what is essentially a non-event, is my kind of person. I learned a long time ago, when I went to my first Cactus and Succulent Society meeting, that people who are interested in the out-of-the-ordinary are the most interesting people of all.
A couple of portraits by Michele.
Then it was back to Reno through the fading light for a beer and sandwich at the Great Basin Brewing Company. All in all, a very nice outing.
We have probably camped just off the Hole in the Wall road almost a dozen times. We can pretty much find all the good camping spots in the dark which is how we got there last night. It is near downtown Death Valley and because it is about 3.5 miles up a unpaved road and behind a rock formation – we are not supposed to camp within 3 miles of a paved road – very quiet with no light pollution. We camped is a nice intimate area that opens into a larger valley.
Because we were so close to our old haunts, we decided to visit a couple of them, starting with Dante’s View just a couple of miles up the paved road. Dante’s View is on the crest of the Black Mountains at about 5,500 feet, overlooking Badwater, the lowest point in North America at about 280 feet below sealevel.
Death Valley is not actually a valley but a graben or basin. A valley is caused by a river eroding the land and a graben is caused by a block of the earth dropping, usually with parallel mountains on each side. In this case, the water that runs into death Valley does not flow out, it evaporates, leaving salts and minerals behind. In February of 2005, after a very unusual, rainy, winter, the valley – OK, graben – actually became a very shallow lake.
Looking down at the salt patterns, sometimes they almost look like clouds.
No trip to our old haunts would be complete without visiting Furnace Creek Inn, where we got married 18 years ago.
We decided to camp off a favorite, easily accessible, road in the north of the Panamint Valley – really another basin or graben to the east – which would put us about an hour closer to home and give us some time to photograph the fall color on Highway 395. But it was starting to cloud up and I was getting concerned that the weather – which had been warm and windless so far – would turn nasty. When we got to the Panamint, everything was clouded over but it was warm and still.
It is always good to remember that the reason this is a desert is because it does not rain here very often. Even though it was overcast, the chances of rain – at least any meaningful rain – were pretty slim. The big problem would be the wind.
As an aside, just off the Big 4 Mine Road, is a old abandoned car. One abandoned car! A Buick. I have probably passed it ten times. Now there are two and I can’t figure out which is more improbable; somebody dragged another car up the road and dropped it or there were always two cars and I mis-remember. Intellectually, I know that the later must be true, BUT I so distinctly misremember that there was only one car. End aside.
As I wandered around the – now – two cars, Ed came over, took one look, and said Look, there is a baby rattlesnake. And there – between the two cars, in a place I had just walked by – it was. The first rattlesnake I have ever seen in Death Valley in over 30 years of looking. Crotalus stephensi – Panamint Rattlesnake – Crotalus is from the Greek for rattle and it was named after somebody named Stephen. This little guy did not rattle or even move and there is only so long you can watch anything that lays there like a rock, so we moved on, looking for a place to throw down our bags.
Or, more accurately, a place to set up some chairs and sit around, gabbing.
Looking around, it was pretty easy to believe we were the only people in the valley, certainly the only people within sight. As the sun went down, the clouds started to clear and the sky put on a show that seemed to be just for us.
The next morning, we were up nice and early, said Goodbye to the Panamint and headed for home.
Tuesday morning, everybody slept in. Except for me, that is. I got up when I woke up at about 7 and watched the sun light up the bright granite faces across the valley from our camp and down into the valley that we would be hiking through in the next couple of days.
As the sun got higher, it started coming through the trees, highlighting and backlighting patches of flowers and grasses. I wandered around like a kid in a candy shop.
Our original plan had been to move our camp down valley the first day and then explore from there. But we had an excellent camp and, as we talked about it, explored a little, and looked at our maps alot; staying right where we were became a better idea. We were above 10,000 feet which meant we couldn't have a fire, but the campsite had lots of flat places to sleep, few mosquitoes, and no dreaded deer flies which we were told we would find further down canyon.
The plan became to stay here, take it easy, and wander down to the Fourth Recess Lake – about 1/2 mile away and down 500 feet – for a mid-day lunch.
After hanging out for a while and exploring a little – very little – around the Fourth Recess, it was time to go back to camp. This was our second day we ended it by doing a little laundry.
Sometime during the last year, I decided to celebrate my 70th birthday with a trans-Sierra hike. I am not sure how, or why, I came up with this scheme, but I did. Now we are back and I am whooped, but I am still glad I came up with the idea. It did turn out to be more logistically difficult and a harder hike, for me, than I originally expected.
Part of the difficulty was that the leaving and arriving trailheads are six to seven hours apart and part of it was that, after going over the pass, the runout on the westside – for me – was still a three day walk. I am still pretty stiff and sore. But, and it is a huge BUT, the trip was very worth it.
When we Googled the fastest way from ,the west trailhead to the east trailhead, Google took us through Yosemite Valley. That just didn't seem right. Through Yosemite Valley on a Saturday, on a free weekend – that just couldn't be the fastest way. When we finally got past the denial stage to the grief stage, we knew we were in trouble. But, when we got to the tunnel view at sunset, we pretty much felt we had lucked out.
This was the place, after all, immortalized by Ansel Adams.
When we got there, the other lucky tourists were all, in the perfect light, taking pictures.
When, Ansel took his picture, he must have waited hours for the right light. Standing there with a huge 8×10 camera on a sturdy tripod, a light-proof cloth over his head. We just blew through. Drove up, walked to the edge, stuck the camera in roughly the right direction, and then got back into the car and drove away. It seems both slightly cheap in the ease and liberating at the same time. The digital age is a whole new photographic ballgame. So to speak.
* * * * * * *
There were five of us on the trip and I started early, Monday, morning, walking the first part of the trial with a friend and, then, alone.
The trail is gorgeous, leaving Mosquito Flat and slowly working up towards the pass. As we walked, we spread out along the trial and then gathered for lunch just before the final push towards the pass.
To get an idea of the scale of the area, double click on the pic below. The small dots are members of our group.
I say final push, I think for everybody else it was a stroll and , for me, it was slow but not that hard. After the pass, we started down – duh! – and met up again at the very high, very barren, Summit Lake.
From there we dropped into the Mono Creek drainage. The canyon, or valley – certainly not a canyón – opened up below us. Continued here.
The good thing about the last hike, in Tuolumne Meadows, was that it was almost level. The usual Sierra hike involves a lot of elevation. To quote Ecological Subregions of California by the US Forest Service, "In west-east cross section, the Sierra is shaped like a trapdoor: the elevation gradually increases on the west slope, while the east slope forms a steep escarpment." In other words, to get into the High Country fast, you have to start on the east side and walk up the "steep escarpment".
Once again, Richard remembered a trip from his distant past. Gibbs Lake. In Lila, Robert Pirsig writes about how we see what we already believe. Which is why the birthers can look at Obama's Hawaiian birth certificate and see proof that he was born in Kenya, or some Republicans can read the new Healthcare Bill, see " NO FEDERAL PAYMENT FOR UNDOCUMENTED ALIENS Nothing in this subtitle shall allow Federal payments for affordability credits on behalf of individuals who are not lawfully present in the United States." and think it says "illegal aliens sign up for free healthcare here".
Anyway,as Richard remembered it, Gibbs Lake was a short hike and looking at the trailhead map seemed to confirm that. We began to entertain thoughts of going past Gibbs to Kidney Lake, a small lake, above Gibbs, in a cirque between Mount Gibbs and Mount Dana. The guide (for snowshoeing trails!) said that it was a hard hike….but that seemed to be from Hyway 395 – which was as high as anybody could be expected to get in the winter – and we were driving to the summer trailhead which cut out most of the hike. You know where this is going: It turns out that Gibbs Lake is three hard miles and 1600 feet from the trailhead.
To make matters worse, most of the trail is right up the "steep escarpment". Even the parking lot at the trailhead is steep, and then it just starts uphill with no switchbacks. I think this is the steepest trail I have ever been on with out even one switchback. After about a mile, and somewhere in the neighborhood of a 800 vertical feet, the trail became more normal, paralleling a bubbling stream.
We continued up, up, and more up. Gradually, now, but still up and up. By now, Richard was way ahead, it was getting cloudy and colder, and I was starting to think of a good reason to quit. My mantra became "I may be slow, but I alway get there." Finally, everything started to level out. Most of the lakes like Gibbs are in cirques caused by glaciers so, below them, is an end or terminal moraine. The leveling out should mean that we are getting into the cirque and the lake is getting close. After a short, sort of flat, walk through the woods,
there was the lake. With Richard waiting. And a light rain starting.
After a typical trail lunch of hunks of cheese and salami, we started back down. It still seemed long, but much easier.
The Junipers were in full fruit and "smelled of unadulterated Gin".
Actually, they didn't smell at all, but I have always been taken by that line after reading it it Basin and Range by John McPhee. As we got to the steep part, steep down now, the clouds got thicker and blocked out the view of Mono Lake.
It was getting colder and windier as we ended the hike, glad we were down and not camped 1600 feet higher at the lake.
But, back at home, Gibbs is the lake I would like to go back to – hummm, if we went for two nights, the three mile hike in would be fairly easy and we could hike up to Kidney Lake during the middle day. Piece of cake!
