Rain Rain
This is now officially the coolest, wettest May in California in about sixty years. And given that we have been suffering from a drought for the last few years, it is not fair for ANYONE in the Golden State to complain about the fact that we are getting more rain. Again. Our reservoirs, so recently empty, are now full, and some are brimming over. The wildflowers are blooming in abundance. (Just ask my sinuses, every time I hop on my bicycle for a ride...ugh.) And the hills are alive with green grass and Julie Andrews. And we are getting more rain. Again. So yeah...I am just a little tired of this. We've got mountains to see, and campsites to explore. We have a whole summer of trips planned, and it's looking more and more as if some of them are going to be put on hold until we can actually get to the trailhead without snowshoes and sled dogs. Not to mention crampons on the trail. There will be more rain. There will be mud. There will be mosquitoes. It is snowing right now above about 6,000. And we are getting just a bit antsy right now. 2010 will go down as yet one more reminder that Mother Nature always laughs last. |
It's been a great year for weather in California. For the first time in four years we have actually exceeded our annual rainfall/snowfall, and as a result it's looking as if the drought may be over---or at least ameliorated this year. This is cause for a Grand Celebration. In the Cadillac Desert, water is the ultimate luxury. On the other hand, if you've been holding your breath, waiting to get up into the Sierra to go for a nice backpacking trip...you'd better bring your longjohns, and maybe your crampons. There's a ton of snow up there. 150% of normal. In feet, that means that at about 8,000 feet, there's about six feet of snow. Last year, at the end of May, we went for a lovely trip up to Bear Lake in the Emigrant Wilderness. That's about 8,000 feet, and while we saw snow on the ground, it was easy enough to find a dry spot to pitch the tent. And I can't remember hiking through any snow patches on that trail. It was wet, and at times muddy, but no snow. (Granite Lake, tucked into the north side of a mountain at 8,500 feet, was completely snowed in and iced over.) But this year, I think we're going to have re-adjust our calendars. It could very well be that in 2010, June is the new May, and July is the new June. And for the higher elevations, we might not be able to really get in there until late August or September. Which is a lovely time of year...but we want to go NOW!  |
Permit Season
It's springtime, and that means it's time to start filing for your wilderness permits with the various national parks, forests, etc. And of course, each authority and region has its own system, which makes it all that much more challenging...which is to say: frustrating. We sent in three applications: one to Yosemite, one to Desolation Wilderness, and one to the Hoover Wilderness. At one end of the spectrum is Yosemite National Park, which posts its trail quotas and constantly updates them to let you know when their reservations are full for each day and every trailhead. That's nice. I understand that they have to manage these resources, and I appreciate the fact that when I go out into the wilderness areas of Yosemite, I am not going to meet 750 other people who are all doing the same thing. I am not enthusiastic about the lecture they give when you pick up your permit--after four or five repetitions, this gets a little silly--but still, it's a good system, and it still allows some permits to be available on a first-come first serve basis. It's the best system for a highly visited park, and it appropriate for Yosemite. My only complaint is that they really ought to be able to put the whole system on-line, rather than have you work through their wilderness center. What the heck, if the airlines can do it, so can the national parks. At another end of the spectrum is the Emigrant Wilderness. All permits are provided as requested--all you have to do is ask. Arrive at the Summit Ranger Station, tell them where you want to go, and they'll write up your permit for you. Simple, easy, and very convenient. Yeah, you may run into a few people at a single campsite...but Emigrant has enough areas nearby that you can always find another place to camp if you are willing to walk another mile, or less. Perfect. In the ugly middle is Desolation Wilderness. I know that this place gets a lot of traffic, but there is really no reason for them to run the system the way they do. Permits are only available after April 22, so on that day their phone is busy, their fax machine is overworked, and there is no way to find out whether or not you are getting through or getting your permit. And there is nothing on-line to help you. That's just bad organization, and an almost criminal ignorance of modern technology. grump hmph. Of course, if you don't want to deal with any of this, you can just backpack in a national forest. You can get your campfire permit from any CDF fire station, and you are good to go. We know, because we got one for our hike to Hite Cove, and it is good for all year. Which may come in handy if we never hear back from Desolation wilderness. |
 We've just spent a few hours planning our summer adventures, and from the maps we've seen, they should be perfect trips. Of course, our packs always seem lighter before we put them on at the trailhead! We have plans to explore the northern reaches of Yosemite this year, going where few people go, and seeing parts of that park that are reputed to be both isolated and magnificent. And we're also planning to re-trace a trip I took 35 years ago, up into the Cloud Canyon of Kings Canyon NP...with a hope of seeing some Golden Trout and the Whaleback again. Add in a few shorter trips, one in Desolation Wilderness for a weekend, and another exploring the Wire Lakes in Emigrant Wilderness, and we've got a lot of fun in store. Assuming that the trails are all passable, we don't get any blisters, everybody stays healthy... But what about that other trip--the one that goes right up over the top of the pass, and then cross-country above the treeline...do you think we could get down the west face of that mountain... hmmmm. |
So there we were in Death Valley, facing a fractured and towering wall of geology. We were at a tough spot in the hike, where only a very steep ascent over some very crumbly rock would allow us to proceed. I had worked my way most of the way up it, but M had made it clear she was NOT up for the game this time. So I came back down and we discussed our next move. I had to admit that it was pretty crumbly, and a slip could be fatal. We would find other things to do. As we watched, a fellow hiker calmly picked his way past us up an even steeper face, climbing at times 150 feet above the canyon floor, before disappearing over the ridge and further up the canyon. I was impressed with his skill, but not really with his common sense. At one point he dislodged a rock high above us, and didn’t call out a warning. That’s a bad move in my book—I was ALWAYS taught to yell a warning to those below. And at another point he crept down a ledge and appeared to lose his footing, only to save himself by grabbing hold of a boulder lower down. When you are 75 feet up, that’s living a little too dangerously for me. Into this picture walked a young couple who were clearly having a few relationship issues. The young woman was awed by the dexterity of the climber, and said so. I made a non-committal reply, preferring to wait and see if the guy was able to get back down again before I became a believer. (We met him on another trail later in the day, a charming man, and yes, he did get himself down without any problems.) The young man started tentatively up the slope I had climbed, and I told him that I tried it, and thought it would work—but that the rock was really crumbly. He charmingly informed me with a smile that “she is much better at this stuff than I am.” There was something in the way he said it that made me think she had spent some time on a climbing wall in a gym. And that he wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain. I noted that it would be better to keep a distance between climbers, so that any falling rocks wouldn’t kill his partner. And she replied to me: “Well, that depends on the state of your matrimony, doesn’t it?” She was funny, in a tart and clever way, but she also was not happy about something. M said later that she might have been an English Major (an amusing note since M is an English Major herself) but a point well taken, nevertheless. We didn’t see any reason to let them spoil our day. So we hiked back down the canyon until we found a side canyon that looked like fun. We happily followed its twists and turns and started to explore, leaving the young couple to their worries. Here again, the canyon narrowed, and a steep wall of marble presented an obstacle. But it was one I was sure we could overcome. M was not so sure. She suggested that I go ahead and see what lay above, while she considered her options. By the time I returned, she had scaled the marble, and together we explored another half-mile of the isolated canyon. When we returned to the dry marble waterfall, the young couple was there, clearly having words yet again. They had both managed to climb it, and seemed to be at an impasse. He turned to me and told me that he thought he needed a bit of food or something before he was ready to do more exploring…and I could see he was a bit shaken, from hunger, fear, or both. And while he told me this, she started carefully climbing back down the pitch of marble, face to the rock, focusing on each move. I wanted to encourage them to explore—they had done the hard part already—and so I turned to the young man and said: “If you go just a bit further, there is a very nice…” And here the young woman interrupted me with a forceful: “Would you be quiet please?” And she forced a tight little smile. Well yes I would. I let her climb down in peace, while he looked at me a bit sheepishly. Once she was all the way down, I told him quietly: “There’s a very cool boulder lodged in the canyon up above. It’s worth a trip—it looks just like the one that chased Harrison Ford in one of his movies.” The young man nodded his head, then encouraged me to go down the marble waterfall. In fact, he insisted that M and I both go down, before he made his attempt. I don’t think he wanted us to watch him struggle, and I saw no reason to argue. Nor did I see any reason to fully climb down the pitch. The slope wasn’t vertical, and there were enough steps that I simply walked back down it, the way you would walk down a flight of stairs. M thought about things for a minute, then decided that she would follow the young woman’s example, and face the rock. She climbed a bit, got stuck for a second, and asked for advice. I gave her a little encouragement…but really, she didn’t need it. By the time she asked what she should do next, I was able to tell her that her foot was about four inches above the bottom. She was down. The young woman was glowing with praise for M: “You showed some very strong leg muscles there!” And so she had. Sisterhood is clearly powerful, at least in the legs. At this point the young woman decided to go back up again and climbed past us. As she went, I mentioned that we had lots of food with us, and would be happy to give them some of it. “No thank you.” She replied with a controlled edge to her voice. And so we left them. They were young, and maybe in love. They probably didn’t have enough food or water, and they were having a miserable time. We spent the rest of the day exploring and chatting. Clambering up and shimmying down. We ate lunch hanging a thousand feet above a canyon, watching people like ants wandering around below. We were older, probably more than twice their age. But we had food, and plenty of water. And still in love after more than thirty years of marriage. Then again, we’ve learned how to help each other have a good time. |
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