Eastern Sierras Vacation

Sunday,July 23  Valley Village to Bishop

Left in two cars today for 10 days in the Eastern Sierra. Marvelous clear hot weather.

Lenticular cloud driving up 395 in 100 degree heat.  I am always enchanted and mystified by clouds. They reveal the invisible presence of air, wind, heat, cold; a response, a spontaneous drama of creation, ever changeful.  

Checked into the Bishop Travelodge.  OK place with pool.

Monday, July 24, 2017  Bishop

We drove up Bishop Creek Canyon, a place we love dearly and return to often. We rented a boat on Lake Sabrina - and caught our first fish of the season, small rainbows that we release. Back into town for dinner at the Chinese restaurant John likes.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017 Bishop to Mammoth

Mammoth is very crowded with bicyclists, families, Europeans, seniors, and Angelenos, with all the diversity that implies.
The lakes are like a theme park, lines, parking, elbowing for a space to experience
nature, who remained impervious but beleaguered with the weight of it all.

Lake Mary, Crystal Crag

We were slow and tired today.  Went out in the afternoon to try to fish, but found crowded lakes, lots of folks, bikes, dogs. Our motel is dreary and depressing. I don't think we'll stay in Mammoth much in the summer again.  Some good flowers to find on the nice hikes around, but really just being stomped to death with folks.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017  Mammoth

We go to Convict Lake to fish and hike a bit. Again, no boats available, very crowded.  John fishes while I make my first "ramble" ( Henry James' preferred term for hiking) around half of the lake. At the inlet the turf is saturated, muddy, and interlaced with rivulets and brooks that have tumbled down from Nature's great and plentiful snow last winter. A traverse across to continue the hike was going to be very messy, and I turned back.

Mt. Morrison

Then John and I drove down to Rock Creek Lake, and fished some more.  The flowers along the stream the first 100 yards of the trailhead, as always, were wonderful. The mosquitoes, astonishingly plentiful and defiantly in my face, despite 100 proof Diet
makeup. 

Best of all was the wash of lupine we found along the road on the way down the canyon. They found a drainage and filled it, a natural vase to fit an alter.

Thursday, July 27  Mammoth Devil's Postpile

Today I took the shuttle to Red's Meadow Campground (Stop 9 is 1.2 miles from the falls) and hiked to Rainbow Falls.  This was the year I was going to take the staircase to the bottom of the falls, but the heavy snow and rain had damaged it. 

I had not seen it since 1993, the year after a bad fire roared down the slopes of the hiking path.  Many years later, I see how slowly and yet so firm and steady is the progress of regaining its possibility of forest.

Devil's Postpile National Park Rainbow Falls Trail forest fire regrowth 

 Then I took a trail back to Red's Meadow Resort, instead of repeating the downhill hike. I pass through the fire area, through open grassy areas with streams and birds, the slope always rising, the terrain open and mostly treeless, making a warm hike in the monsoonal humidity that hovers this week.

 Rainbow Falls to Red's Meadow Lodge trail

Devil's Postpile

over the edge here! 

hexagonal separated "posts" 600 feet high - the top

up on top of the pile where the glacier exposed the formation

Scarlet gilia

White Rein Orchid

Monkshood

Sierra Lily

Monkeyflower - either Torrey's or Lewis'

This is perhaps my favorite wildflower - the purple is so deep, and the shape is so distinctive - seducing their pollinators with a snapdragon throat and exquisite color.
   


 


























Friday, July 28 Mammoth, June Lakes Loop,
     Gull and Silver Lakes

Silver Lake 

Saturday, July 29  Mammoth  Duck Creek Pass Trail

Climbing over Duck Pass to join the John Muir Trail, the Duck Pass Trail starts on a forested hillside behind Coldwater Campground and goes past Arrowhead, Skelton, and Barney Lakes before going over Duck Pass. A side trail to Emerald Lake offers an alternate route to Skelton Lake. Common destinations beyond Duck Pass include Duck Lake, with an intense, deep-blue color, and nearby Purple Lake. 

Today is a day in which I accomplish something I didn't think I ever could. I do a nine-mile hike.  I have been working out steadily for several months now.  Such satisfaction in the experience of building endurance over time.

Arrowhead Lake - has a nice bluff to jump from - lots of yelling going on- go on to next lake

California heather - grows on banks or stream side

imposing scree mountainside - quite red, actually

one tree's attempted fall became a lean on me instead

a contorted trunk - what could have caused this?

lots of snow close and on trails 

Barney Lake

peaceful meadow above Coldwater campground

runoff meanders through the high alpine meadow below the peak

Sunday, July 30, Mammoth to Lee Vining - travel and rest day

Monday, July 31  Lee Vining - Lundy Lake fish and hike

meadow along trailhead road

mountainside Lundy Trail hike

waterfall along Lundy trail

Tuesday, August 1  Lee Vining - Virginia Lakes hike to Moat Lake and above

Today I do a hike I've done before, from the Virginia Lakes trailhead.

view down trail to Virginia Lakes and Owens Valley

There's a lake off the main trail I've wanted to find, but couldn't locate the turnoff. It's little used, and steep. And I've found locals will obfuscate, politely hiding their resentment of we stampeding tourists with discouraging remarks and misinformation. But this year I had a better map, and sharper eyes. 

Yes, the climb was steep, and though I could discern the trail, it was fun to duck beneath and around small pines, scramble up boulders, and rock-hop over streams spreading tendrils down the mountainside. Above me rose monument-size heaps of scree.  Surely the Creator's dump trucks had all been scheduled to call at the same site, releasing loads of pebbles, rocks, stones, and boulders that mark eons of passing time.

I've gotten so I can anticipate a lake's location in the distance by the amphitheater the mountain peaks above it form: a horseshoe, circle, or oval as I hike up a stream toward its exit outlet at the cirque above me.  

possibly Sheridan's Hairstreak or Green Hairstreak butterfly

And on this hike, I find a butterfly I could never have dreamed of.  It's green - a bright, luminous, iridescent lime green, smallish, beautiful beyond butterflies many times its size and rarity. It held on a branch for many minutes, its wings folded up and then opening to reveal a green iridescence flashing where the tiny body joins the wings.  

turnoff on trail to Moat Lake

Moat Lake turnoff surrounding landscape

Moat Lake

Moat Lake 

the stream runs out beneath snow capping it, melting into it

snow at least 6 feet deep along this stream on main Virginia Lakes trail

Granite gilia - very prickly

penstemon and paintbrush

Western Wallflower- mid-elevation
example

mountain penstemon

lichens on rock - beautiful acid yellow color

paintbrush were so neon and deeply orange

a favorite formation above Virginia Lakes trail

either Blue or Cooney Lake

Wednesday, August 2  Lee Vining

Marvelous storm as I drove south.  We had dinner in Big Pine at a diner, where I saw a double rainbow. Then storms in the mountains to the west of me.

driving south the Independence from Big Pine

between Big Pine and Independence

such storms come up over the mountains - I wasn't getting any rain at all along the road

Saddlebag Lake

This morning we fished at Saddlebag Lake, up in the Yosemite Tioga Pass area. The fishing isn't good, but the scenery was.

The concession has closed, so no shuttle is operating this year across the lake to shorten hiking access to the passes above it.  Perhaps next year...It's possible to hike from Saddlebag Lake to Lundy Lake across a pass - I can't wait to try it!

Saddlebag Lake 

We both get to see a yellow-bellied marmot.

not my photo, but among the rocks along the stream filling
the lake, and the flowers, California heather, I found
a lot of along lakeside and stream

I was thrilled because this is my brother's doctoral thesis-study animal, and we've always laughed a bit over the name.  In fact, the marmot is larger than I thought it was, and was quite golden.  I think it was habituated because it wasn't in any hurry to get away when I approached, giving me a wonderful view.  He probably eats fish and left-over picnic food from fisherfolk around the lake edge.

(not my own photo, but colored like the one I saw)

We checked into the Mt. Morrison Motel and 
Base Camp.  It's popular with serious hikers,and provides services to those doing the Pacific Crest Trail and the John Muir Trail.

Best of all, we found it to be a comfortable,attractive, thoughtfully furnished (though small) motel with a lovely full breakfast.  Hikers on the PCT have trail names, and the woman who runs the place is called "Strider". She is a beautiful, independent and powerful woman of spirit and purpose.    

Thursday, August 3  Independence - John went fishing 

and I drove up Onion Valley and hiked the Kearsarge Pass Trail, making it 2.5 miles in to Flower Lake, the third one in. It was humid and hard going at the beginning. I lingered on the shore, passing through groves of willow bunched in the shallows.

a boulder mountainside to traverse

No snow to cross, some wet trails with streams running through and across them, but just fun to cross through.  From the third lake I followed the stream back down, off trail, but easy going, looking for flowers, butterflies (none) and birds.

The waterfalls and brooks are filled with snowmelt, water crashing down the steep scree-laden mountainsides.

Giant Blazing Star

Prickly Poppy - similar to Matajila

My leisurely passage earned me wonderful close range (10 feet) views of a male golden warbler and Wilson's warbler, two of the most beautiful birds in Creation.

Friday, August 4 - Bishop Creek Canyon - South Lake

Leisurely morning, then up to beloved South Lake in Bishop Creek Canyon to fish. It's the first time I've been on it since it has been replenished by the wonderful snows of winter 2016-1017.  It belongs to Southern California Edison and is used to supply water to the south, and with the drought had been completely drained. I was bereft when I saw the empty lakebed that year, as if a friend had perished. My optimism has become a light cloak these days.

On the lake, rain began in the mid-afternoon and as we docked, it began to hail. A close and gigantic crack of thunder boomed over the lake canyon. Luckily it was like pebbles, but it still stung.

Saturday, August 5 North Lake, Intake 2

We added a day to our vacation and John drove me up to North Lake so I could hike to Grass Lake. (To reach North Lake to fish, turn right at the pack station and park in the lot.  To reach the trailhead for Lamarck Lakes and Piute Pass, and also Grass Lake, drive past the right turn for the lake, (marked only with a pack station sign) and up into the campground to the trailhead. The trailhead is on a loop with a few drop-off parking spaces. The trailhead is joint; a sign about .8 mile directs you to either Lamarck Lakes or Piute Pass.  To Grass Lake, take the Lamarck Lakes trail.  It's not much farther.)  

The flowers for the first two hundred yards of the trail were luxurious and plentiful; the brook was full and saturating lots of bank around its usual boundaries, filling small meadows full of paintbrush, monkshood, and yarrow. 

dark shelter beneath the trees on a darkling day

I found a "new" flower - called bog mallow, spread out in a small meadow very soon encountered at the trail beginning.  I had to work to ID it because the illustration in John Muir Laws book didn't really show how dense the flower clusters could be. Individual 5-pointed flowers massed in a cluster at the end of the stalk made it look like one large flower, while looking closely at leaves and flower structure paid off.   I drew them to help me, later finding it, making for a very satisfying experience.  

Bog Mallow  - Sidalcea oregana, Malvaceae

No butterflies, lots of birdsong, hard to find bird movement however.  Grass Lake's shoreline was softly muddy, and a marvelous snowmelt-filled brook tumbled down the hill to fill it.  It's shallow, and lots of reeds and water grasses surround the margins. Flowers again, but the usual suspects:  paintbrush, sierra lilies, columbine, monkshood.

Silver Lupine - the most beautiful one

Grass Lake - a cloudy day that promised rain

Along this shoreline I saw lots of dark-eyed juncos - charming busy fellows that make mountain lakes chipper with song.

The day was again cloudy, cool, and muggy. The Mexican monsoons have extended far this year; the raindrops began about one PM. John and I found each other along the North Lake shore about 1:30PM, went to Intake 2, tried to find shoreline space, didn't, and at three the rain began in real seriousness, warm and pelting. pelting.  We got into the car just in time to avoid getting really wet wet. Drying out is a matter of minutes in my light hiking garb.  Even my underwear, appallingly expensive, from a top outdoor brand.  

Back to Bishop, resting, bathing, dinner at a Japanese restaurant that was especially satisfying after another lunch of Ritz crackers, cheese, peanut butter, and apples - my usual hiking and fishing lunch.

Our last day of vacation.  Tomorrow we drive back to LA. To our luxurious home and pool, separate bathrooms, privacy, togetherness, how we want it - lots of light, windows, fresh air, privacy, fast wi-fi.     

Color Personality

I wish all these preference and diagnostic personality tests I take didn't tell me what a cool, logical person I am and that I should be a physicist or programmer or lawyer.  

The Permanence of Past Objects

attachment to objects which represent the lost past...
keep moving residences and redecorating in an attempt to replicate the lost past, the loss of identity, beloved dead family members..

We are greater than our past...

--from an interview with an author about immigrants to the U.S.

Flowers - Descanso Gardens

A trip to a lovely garden near Pasadena on April 18th My sister-in-law, Doris, and her husband, Jeff, my husband's brother, came to visit us from Vermont for the first time ever. His sister Katharine joined us too.  

The weather was wonderful, and we swam every day and shared SoCal lifestyle with them, spring just beginning for them in northerly Burlington where they live. Doris is quite a gardener herself, and we had a good day. Lunch on the beautiful patio area, just so so, but pleasant.

The irises were one of my childhood favorites.  I wish I knew the names of these. They are glorious.

This is "Julia Child", a floribunda with a marvelous fragrance, unlike the heavy fruity odor of some yellow roses.  They are my sister-in-law Katharine's favorite.

"Coco Loco", a strange pink-brown rose I found distinctive and had never seen except in catalogs.

The last of the lilacs - a few were left and the fragrance again powerful and evocative of my childhood.  John loves them, too, maybe more than I do!

The Latest Version: the "You're Worth It" Commodification Syndrome

 

As Laurie Penny recently wrote, for The Baffler, the risk of promoting individual self-care as a solution to existential anxiety or oppression is that victims will become isolated in a futile struggle to solve their own problems rather than to collectively change the systems causing them harm.  - NYT, 3-16-17

Can all this positive thinking be actively harmful? Carl Cederström and André Spicer, authors of The Wellness Syndrome, certainly think so, arguing that obsessive ritualization of self-care comes at the expense of collective engagement, collapsing every social problem into a personal quest for the good life. “Wellness,” they declare, “has become an ideology.”  -Laurie Penny, The Baffler

It is at this point that I confess to you that I’ve been doing yoga for two years and it’s changed my life to an extent that I almost resent. I have trained myself, through dedicated practice on and off the mat, to find enough inner strength not to burst out laughing when the instructor ends the class by declaring “let the light in me honor the light in you.” The instructor is a very nice person who smiles all the time like a drunk kindergarten teacher and could probably kill me with her abs alone, so I have refrained from informing her that the light in me is sometimes a government building on fire.

...Downward-facing dog is not a radical position. Nonetheless, that particular asana is among a few small concessions I make to self-care while I wait for the end of patriarchy and the destruction of the money system.

...The harder, duller work of self-care is about the everyday, impossible effort of getting up and getting through your life in a world that would prefer you cowed and compliant. A world whose abusive logic wants you to see no structural problems, but only problems with yourself, or with those more marginalized and vulnerable than you are. Real love, the kind that soothes and lasts, is not a feeling, but a verb, an action. It’s about what you do for another person over the course of days and weeks and years, the work put in to care and cathexis. That’s the kind of love we’re terribly bad at giving ourselves, especially on the left.

I've arrived at a low place.  The doors are closing, corridors narrowing, tunnel lights dimming. It's the aging, the losses, the regrets.   I see myself with the visage of an Easter Island stone atop a mountain, gazing far, grim and dark and sure and centered and sad, a watcher, a listener.

Zen and the Art of: (substitute any verb)

Robert Pirsig, author of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance", has died.  He was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, and suffered much while undergoing treatments available at that time: electroshock, harsh drugs. He himself regarded his catatonic schizophrenia as the state of Buddhist enlightenment.

“The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower,” he wrote. “To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha—which is to demean oneself.”

"Acceptance that there is no wholly satisfactory answer is part of moving forward."  - NY Times, editorial about Senator Bob Kerry's Vietnam civilian massacre.

Do you get to - do you have the right to - move forward after you've done something so heinous?

I guess [so]. Gotta go on with daily life. Forgiveness is better.

My stretch class trainer plays a Deepak Chopra recording.  In his smarmy cheesy voice, he is profound.  "...let go of all recriminations, revenge, and regret..." Something like that.  Otherwise you're always a victim.

Speak memory, seek memory

camera the shield against forgetting

seek existential time, not clock time

stay in silence to look to see

See, inquire, learn, know, look again

Engage memory - make it your partner

by writing, noting details, names

accept that contradictions live in art and

don't have to be resolved

...reveals the fault lines of our ludicrous attempts

to make sense of experience, our faulty knowledge of ourselves and the world 

Paraphrase of Phillip Kennicot, Wash Post Culture Critic

“A talent is a kind of imprisonment. You’re stuck in it, you have to keep using it, or else you get ruined by it. It’s like a beaver’s teeth. He has to chew or else his jaws lock shut.” --Wallace Stegner

The result is an empirical behemoth built on the foundation of a few simple propositions. One, that our awareness of death creates tremendous potential for anxiety or terror. Two, that we learn to manage that terror by embedding ourselves in a cultural worldview that imbues reality with order, meaning, and stability. Three, that we gain and maintain psychological security by sustaining faith in that worldview and living up to the values it convey

While teaching at Pomona College in the early 1970s Williams revisited his typewriter drawings, including some of them in a new booklet called "Random Notes On Painting." Not yet into his 40s, Williams' prose in "Random Notes On Painting" is wearily eloquent:

I find in my life fragments of happiness and delight, more doubts than I can account for, empty and restless afternoons spent bumping off the walls, a vainglorious awareness of my own ambition, a fondness for books, maps, seashells, Black Blues Artists, the habitual use of noisy prose, the pretense that making art is a way to interfere, if only for a moment with death, shame at the forbidden memories that reveal themselves in the dark belly of aberrant dreams, outrage at hunger and sickness and the loneliness of men, anger at my own uneasiness in the world, my fear of being wrong, and my daily confessions of incomprehension.

One tries to work with care, with sagacity, to make things with calm. I would wish my paintings to be abundant, generous-nothing dim, no shadows; to stand in the full light of summer. I would wish my paintings to illuminate. -Guy Williams

As is clear from the lives of Saint Francis of Assisi and so many other saints, the gift of knowledge gives rise to grateful contemplation of the world of nature and joyful praise of the Creator...Pope Francis in a Vatican Radio broadcast yesterday