King's Canyon ~ Sept 28-29, 2013

We take Hwy 41 south out of Yosemite and then 180 east to Kings Canyon. First stop is the Grants Grove Visitors Center to see if we can find a place to stay for a couple of days. The clerk told us there were no rooms available, then said "wait a minute maybe I do have a solution". He switched a few things around on paper and said "I found you a cabin for a couple of nights." Rod says its my puppy dog eyes that are working all this magic, I'm thinking some force in the cosmos has something to do with it.

 

First evening in we went up to Panoramic Point for the sunset. Talk about a world class view: from left to right (west to east), the high peaks visible are Spanish Mountain (10,051 feet), the Obelisk (9,700 feet), Mount McGee (12,969 feet), Mount Goddard (12,568 feet), Kettle Dome (9,446 feet), North Palisade (14,242 feet), and Eagle Peak (9645 feet). Hume Lake is in the foreground. We were going to stay up there after dark to do some star gazing, but there had been reports of bears in the area so we thought better of that idea and headed back to the Lodge for dinner and evening of reading.

 

John Muir made his first visit in 1873. At the time there were two theories on the canyon origins. Josiah Whitney's theory was that the valleys were formed by earthquake action. Muir's theory, that the valleys were carved by glaciers during the Ice Age, was later proved to be the correct one. The park was established in 1940 and incorporated General Grant National Park, established in 1890 to protect the General Grant Grove of Giant Sequoias.  



Sunday morning we went to see General Grant. This magnificent tree is estimated to be 1,700 years old, stands at a little over 267 feet tall and has a diameter of almost 29 feet. It was recently ranked as the third tallest tree in the world.

 

 

"What is the purpose of the giant sequoia tree?

The purpose of the giant sequoia tree is to provide shade for the tiny titmouse".

Edward Abbey 1927-1989

 

 

There is a lot of history here so we took a walk around the grove to learn more and take in the forest smells, visuals and sounds.

A number of ravens were dancing around in the tree tops and setting up quite the racket. We heard a couple of loud cracks and snapping above us and kind of froze in place. Two really large branches came crashing to the ground about 6 feet in front of us. We look at each other and just grinned, not today Josephine! Exit stage left and we're off on another adventure.

This time its Hwy 180 east to head down into Kings Canyon to find the end of the road at Cedar Grove. Down is an understatement, we drop from elevation 7,500 feet to 4,000. The landscape is non descript at first, but as we drop into the canyon multicolored walls of rock appear and the Kings River comes into view.

We couldn't get all the way to Cedar Grove due to a bridge washout (repaired and reopened October 23rd) but had lunch at a café on the river before turning around. Rod had his fishing gear with him (this boy scout is always prepared) so we stopped in a few places. He caught and released an 8" brook trout in one spot and a couple of little fellas in another.

While he fished I explored the river banks with my camera. I hopped down off a large rock up river from him and something caught my eye. I looked to the left and saw an Ermine already dressed in his winter whites. Perhaps he knew something about the coming winter we have yet to discover! He was too fast for me to get a photo, but this is what he looked like.  

Photo credit ~ Trailtender

 

This was quite a day. We hauled ourselves out of the canyon for dinner at the lodge and another quiet night of reading. Off to Sequoia National Park tomorrow.

A Thursday Treasure ~ Feb 21, 2013

 

Banish the hurry of your life

Unplug and open your eyes

Lichen growing on a fallen tree

Little things

 Lessons to the wise

 

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.”

Henry David Thoreau

 



Cha Cha Cha ~ Changes April 17, 2012

Everyone looks at time in a different way. Everyone looks different in time. It's always on the move, but I've never considered its passage as something to be feared. With age we gain perspective, wisdom and sense of self. 

Rod and I have travelled through three decades together, now waltzing blithely through our mid-sixties. Oh sure the hair is silver, we've cornered the market on wrinkles and age spots and the sound effects of moving around are getting louder and more frequent. Like everyone else, we have our share of ups and downs. But when we catch ourselves whining (to protest in a childlike fashion) we invoke the "There's a $5 Fine for Whining" rule immortalized by songwriter Chris LeDoux.

No Whining

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Whining, complaining or dwelling on the negative accomplishes absolutely nothing. Attitude is everything, so get up in the morning and choose a good one. If you're having a crappy day, it's probably your own fault: clouds have silver linings, doors close windows open, plant a seed harvest food, call in well and take a time out. As a cancer survivor I know the power of staying positive. Life is too short to waste any of it on the dark side. You have choices and options Cupcake so make 'em count. I mean really: 

• We no longer give a rat's patooty what others think
• We get senior discounts
• We are free to move about the cabin and not act our age
• We are free to follow muses and dance with abandon
• We know things that younger generations are still in the dark on
• Live up to your expectations not those of others
• Let people go who bring you down
• Keep a journal (they're fun to read decades later)
• Take a camera every time you go outside
• Mentor a kid
• Research your history
• Volunteer some time ~ you'll be amazed at the returns
• Commit random acts of kindness

Time Stream 

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Life is a moveable feast and the memories will travel with you for the rest of your life. Build some good ones! Henry David Thoreau got it right:

"Time is but the stream I go a fishing' in"

Choices

We depart Lakeside midmorning and turn north. Rod has a couple of days left on his Oregon fishing license so we're off to find a fishing stream. There's a little BLM campground at Smith River Falls just north of Reedsport and 26 miles east on a delightfully uncrowded (5 cars) scenic drive along the river.

As we near our destination the river bottom changes from rocks to sandstone steps peppered with water worn cavities created by eons of rocks spinning in the river current. The falls is at a summer low, but in spring it's about 150' wide. There is a very intricate cement fish ladder that climbs the north side of the river and a great network of pools and natural slides.

The 10 space campground is on the river and we find a nice spot to set up camp. We're in a bit of a rain forest so it's warm and humid. Spent some time wading in the river.

Rod is off to fish and I decide to stretch out on the couch and read. He's back 4 hours later grinning like the Cheshire cat. Dancing with the fishes. From Rod:

$70 for Oregon fishing license 

 7 brook trout caught and released

found graphite pole and reel

on a grass hummock in the river

when the lure snagged my vest

4 hours of grinning

priceless

BLM and other free campgrounds attract all kinds. Our neighbors ranged from college students, to young families, to a middle aged man quietly practicing the guitar. The spoiler appeared about 5:30, a man being a really bad role model for his two young daughters: beered, loud, bad eighties music and firecrackers. So much for peace and quiet.

Rod and I look at each other and say uh-uh, no way, we have choices. So we pack it up and head back to 101 and north about 10 miles to a little RV Park on Woahink Lake ~ sand dunes, hot showers, dinner and some reading. The drive, the fishing and the photographic opportunities were well worth the trip. As for the camper from Hell ~ Oh Well!

Wednesday morning coffee ~ breakfast and laundry next. As you can see nose to the grindstone and shoulder to the wheel. We'll plan today's journey over breakfast. 

Southern Oregon

07/20/11 ~ None of the reports of rain ever materialized for us but we heard a storm rolled through a few days before we got here. Glad we left Tuesday instead of Sunday (Thank you Andrea for scheduling the BBQ for Monday night!). We spent our first night out near Trinidad at Emerald Forest under the redwoods.

Off to the Smith River this morning to see if we can find a spot to camp at Jedediah Smith State Park. We’re used to travelling in fall and winter when the rest of the world is home so we knew we were taking our chances. Sure enough it’s full. If our return trip brings us down 101 perhaps we’ll make reservations for a couple of days stay. It’s a gorgeous place with some great hikes and fishing.

We decide to continue north on 101 into southern Oregon. The wind is screaming on the coast. At several places we spot some fearless surfers kite boarding at Pistol River. I’d rather take my chances with a zip line thank you.

Just outside of Brookings we decide to call ahead to a place we’ve stayed before called Kimball Creek Bend, about 8 miles up the Rogue River from Gold Beach. They had a spot open up due to a last minute cancellation. We end up with a primo spot on the river with full hookups (for the uninitiated that means power, water, and sewer). We be roughing it here boss! View from the site.

After we got set up Rod headed for the river (about 50 yards from our site) to do some fishing.

Dinner is roasted home grown veggies (beets, carrots, zucchini and crooknecks) and Sonoma County corn on the grill. It’s about 65 and breezy. We’ve been watching four turkey vultures peering into the river from rocks just above the waterline. We’re trying to figure out what they’re after so we get out the binoculars and head for the beach. Just below the rocks we spot an otter dragging a huge salmon out of the water onto a postage stamp patch of sand just out of reach of the birds. The otter munches for a bit and then takes off down river about 20 yards to a little beach. All of a sudden there are 4 of them: two adults, a juvenile and a youngster. It’s time for a late afternoon roll in the warm sand. We watch them play for about 10 minutes and then they’re back in the water and disappear behind a small island. The vultures continue their vigil unable to figure out how to reach that salmon.

As we’re walking back to camp we hear an osprey and turn to see it gliding towards the opposite shore. Binoculars up, we watch it land on a huge nest in the top of a tree and feed its chicks. I’d say we had a home run of an afternoon. Tonight: a campfire, stargazing and reading until our eyes close.

07/21/11 ~ Today we are going to read in shade and perhaps walk the river a bit, I mean someone has to do it.

Tomorrow we are headed up the Rogue on a 104 mile round trip on one of the jet boats: layers of clothes, binoculars and camera - wahooo!