Memorial Day weekend has, for the last couple of years, been "Opening Day" for me. Three days of almost - summer weather in a mountain or desert setting, warm days and cool nights watching Mom Nature shake winter off and welcome warmer times.
Why would this year be different? With as heavy a snowpack as we've had here in the Golden State, I read with rapt attention the CalTrans road openings that made my Thursday prior to the holiday - Sonora, Ebbetts and Monitor Passes had opened, while Tioga was still closed. Friday I could hardly wait - I was to be off to California's White Mountains, our highest desert range, for 3 days of nesting bluebirds, trails through the bristlecone pines and short summits, those to maybe 11,000'. Last year I was able to spend a fine 3 days out here over Memorial Day, even with copious bits of powder still on the ground over 11,000'. I knew it would be cool at night this year, and had heard of snow predicted in the Sierra Sunday morning. And though I was physically prepared for grungy weather, I really hadn't let my mind deconstruct the possibility that conditions this year may not be, uh, optimal.
But onward I went. Leaving home around 8 AM Saturday, I made it to Sonora Pass by noon. In all my Memorial Day crossings of this pass, I had never seen such an accumulation of snow still on the ground. Ever. And that's a long time for me, as my wife will be pleased to let you know. The trip over was uneventful, and Hwy 395 south to Bishop was remarkably quiet for a holiday weekend. I stopped to pick up supplies and gas in Bishop (Von's for both, by the way - cheapest gas on 395) and headed south to my turn off at Big Pine.
Hwy 168 east from 395 is a nice 13 miles to White Mountain Road, and because there was no traffic I was able to drive in a most relaxed state, looking at the wildflowers, watching for animals, marveling at rock formations in the Inyo Range....all good stuff. Arriving at White Mtn Road, I made the turn up into the Whites. Already, though, the weather had set the tone - wind was howling in the 25 - 40 MPH range, and ominous clouds were wrapping around the mountaintops, settling low on the hillsides. When I arrived at Grandview Campground it was 45 degrees - a tad cooler from Bishop's 80. As always, I have the car arranged for quick set up so I can get camp put together in a hurry. This was a perfect day to test my ability to put up the tent, set up cooking stuff, get the water source and secondary water source ready to roll....which, despite the silly wind, proved I hadn't lost my touch. Only a blow up of my new 2.5" luxury (for me!) pad from REI (Camp Bed) might take a minute or two. That little purchase, by the way, made even a stormy, cold night seem like a hotel. Well, almost.
My concern as afternoon spun into night was the wind and dust. Clouds had blown east, and those to the west over the Sierra looked ominous but would, if White Mountain history held true, dissipate by the time they moved east. I started a campfire under heavy wind, impressing even me with the method I used - ignite dry grass and tiny twigs, add larger and larger pieces until the fire had been established, then add the Heavy Duty stuff. Around 6 PM, the temp had dropped into the 30's. I was bundled up well enough, and the fire kept the front side warm. But by 7 I was done. I got into the tent as the wind threatened to blow my chair into Nevada. A few well placed rocks anchored it firmly in place and I put on my very warm night clothes. I was tired, so I brought my secondary water supply (my Camelback) into the tent with some cheddar flavored potato chips so I could enjoy them without a fight. I was dozing by 7:30, waking up intermittantly as the wind blew without let up for hours. I woke at 2:30 AM because the outside had gone silent - no wind, not even a rustle. I could hear a pair of night birds chattering with each other and went back to sleep hoping that was the end of the breeze.
The next sound I heard also woke me, an hour and a half later. It was some kind of precipitation, but I was not awake enough to determine how hard it was raining. It was also at this small sleep disturbance that I coughed while in the middle of a rotation in my sleeping bag. Something in my rib cage tweaked, and I was in some real discomfort. It was not going to go away, the pain told me. I found a position in which I was comfortable, and tried to get back to sleep. It was all right as long as I didn't cough. <coughcough/hack> OUCH! Water fixed the situation, though, so I was back to sleep. For a while. Dawn woke me, and as the sky lightened I saw the result of the pitter patter heard in the wee hours - an inch of snow had accumulated on the seat of my chair. The campground had been carpeted with a soft, delicate layer of fluff, which amused me to no end. The cold, however, was not amusing. It had to be in the teens, at least. Now, I've been here in October and camped at 11,000' and run into nearly zero. But this is late May. Memorial Day. It was to be sane at night. So much for using a calendar to plan a trip.
And then to top things off the wind started howling again. Sticking my head outside the tent I saw a disturbing gathering of clouds surrounding the campground. I got dressed and ready for the day, heading to the stove to try to boil some water. The stove had been covered in snow, however, and the water jug was frozen solid. I got into the car and turned it over. The thermometer said it was 20 outside. It didn't provide the wind chill number. I grabbed some essentials from my tent and decided to head to Bishop for some warm coffee. Although such a side trip would normally violate all my outdoors orientation, I wanted warm food, dang it! I made it to the road, heater blasting, up the hill toward the Visitor Center so I could get a cell signal and let Gina know of the weather conditions. However, the road was iced to impassibility a couple of miles north of the campground, and I headed out, back toward the highway and Bishop.
It got uglier. As I approached Bishop, the big electronic advisory sign let me know all the passes that had just opened two days ago were now closed. 4, 88, 89, 108, 120....all were impassible. I then glaced east to the Whites to witness a hellish cloud cover moving southward, gobbling up White Mountain Peak, Campito Mountain, Boundary Peak....Clouds dropped lower and lower, new snow could be seen falling over the entirety of the range, and I felt lost - clearly I had to pack up unless I really wanted to demonstate a superior masochistic ability. I gobbled up a hot meal and headed back. I would have to pack, and fast. There could be no time wasting. And then I'd have to figure the best route home. I had one in mind...
Back in camp, clouds swirled over my favorite trees and the little bluebirds spoke softly with each other, probably laughing at me while hunkering down for a cold day. It was now 24 degrees, balmy by early morning standards. I packed quickly, well organized and with mercifully little to pack. Snowflakes blew through, and the temps made every one stick. I left camp and headed back to the highway. One short drive north to the Sierra View overlook told the ultimate tale - from Sierra View I could not view the Sierra. The storm had taken the Palisades, Mt Ritter / Banner Peak, all the way down to Whitney and Williamson - the Sierra might just have been a cloud. I said a prayer for any unlucky through hikers that might be caught on the PCT, despite all the posted warnings; this was a February storm, not May.
I usually feel a sense of defeat if I don't ride out bad weather, and have been hiking a lot over the winter in driving rain and fierce cold. But I felt good about this; I would be safe, and I'd enjoy one hell of a long drive in order to get around the Sierra. I made it south after filling up in Bishop, toward Independence and Lone Pine. I spoke with a ranger farther south who advised me that my next possible crossing, Hwy 178, was a windy, RV - filled pass over toward Lake Isabella. He advised me to go all the way to Mojave and catch Hwy 58. I did, and he was right. 58 moved fast through the Tehachapis, into Bakersfield and west to Interstate 5. The wind was still blowing - it was as if the windmills on the Altamont, over the Tehachapis, near Palm Springs - had all reversed themselves and unleashed a horrendous statewide wind.
My day became anticlimactic on the Interstate. Miles blew past, and each mile closer to home was just a little more comfortable. I made it back by 9:30 PM, tired as I've ever been and full of ideas about how I'd ride it out next time...a 4 - season tent? Sequestering the water supply in a larger tent? A wind - proof fire? I intend to be back there soon, perhaps in a couple of weeks, and will try to convince Gina and Sab to share the big tent with me. But like me, they aren't yet convinced there will be a summer. I was so pleased to be able to see one last (hopefully!) blast of winter so late in the year. Although it screwed up my plans, it was just another day for Mother Nature to keep us in the loop as to who's boss. See you out there soon! Maybe in summer, if we have one...
Monday, May 30, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
It's The Right Thing To Do
People are among Nature's most interesting studies.
Capable of almost anything, from delving deeply into subjects of great intellectual and physical intricacy to feeling emotions unlike any other member of the Animal Kingdom, we can be caring or callous, instructive or destructive, ambitious or malicious. Trying to understand what we're going to do next may be a matter only for historians, philosophers or physicists.
But there are only two things I know about people, things I try to practice every day, and each very difficult to refute. Yes, this is the internet, so while those who stay up for days at a time trying to find any conceivable glitch in another's point, hold on for just a little while. I'm sure you'll think of something. But I'll make it short, elemental. Here are 4wheelbob's Pair of Random Wisdoms;
First, and most important: Each of us has something to offer everyone - lessons of sorts, a thought, an image, a smile. Not all the lessons are warm, fuzzy and rosy - not all education is easily disseminated. But a lesson may be as simple as "hey, I smiled and she smiled back!" or as tough as "guess I shouldn't have gone for a drive after that fourth drink (sound of handcuffs clicking)". Some people seem downright unapproachable, distant, aloof, even angry. What lessons have they had to endure? What might we learn from them? Then the obvious: what can we do to help make their lives a bit easier to endure, if not completely enjoy? Each of us can learn such tiny, important things from one another.
The second piece is even simpler and more satisfying: what can I do to make another's life here better? Can I offer a joke, or a warm meal? A cup of coffee coupled with a willing ear? Perhaps even a room until a situation gets sorted out....
Being social beings, I find it perplexing that we can't use the technology that got us the internet, and the ability to look up or store vast amounts of knowledge on a hard drive to help each other. Yes, of course I see Facebook pages for every conceivable cause, including my own. Yet, when in close physical contact with our fellow humans, we back away, seeking instead to intellectualize every possible emotion, feeling, spirit....and missing the most basic primate behavior, that of talking, touching, joking, telling stories - communicating face - to - face, without the book. We retreat to our Blackberries to text another sitting across a table. We trumpet our achievements on social networking (what would Ben Franklin think of THAT?) sites, but sit on our hands when sharing a table, sitting in the cool, damp night.
I enjoy making people laugh, or challenging them to think. I love spouting off inanities, just for the simple pleasure of being inane and inviting people to look closer and see that I have a soul, a spirit, even a mystery that will take equal amounts of thought and poking to arouse. And as much as I enjoy using the computer to share thoughts like these with you, I'd be in my element if we were yammering to each other all night, being silly or thoughtful or reflective. Because on the internet, I can't see you smile or hear you laugh. I can't piss you off or argue sports in real time. No, that takes more effort. Effort which, I pray, you are willing to expend in order to make the most of this life.
That's all there is to it. Those of you who've met me on a trail and engaged me in conversation (not too hard to do) understand. Those with whom I've shared coffee and chatted about the beauty of the day and what it will hold within its boundaries understand. Those who've allowed me to be a part of their lives, as either benefactor or benficiary, friend or lover, jokester or foil understand.
Writing and posting this as I will may seem contradictory, but fear not. Stop me to talk if you see me on the street, and you'll know, too, of my passion for people and life. Break away, if only for a day, from your electronic bindings and listen to another, without anger, without judgment, without scorn. We'll all be better for the time when we can look only at the individual and our similarities and not the artificial factional differences that so frequently divude us.
Share a moment with someone you don't know. You might find it the most educational moment of your life.
Capable of almost anything, from delving deeply into subjects of great intellectual and physical intricacy to feeling emotions unlike any other member of the Animal Kingdom, we can be caring or callous, instructive or destructive, ambitious or malicious. Trying to understand what we're going to do next may be a matter only for historians, philosophers or physicists.
But there are only two things I know about people, things I try to practice every day, and each very difficult to refute. Yes, this is the internet, so while those who stay up for days at a time trying to find any conceivable glitch in another's point, hold on for just a little while. I'm sure you'll think of something. But I'll make it short, elemental. Here are 4wheelbob's Pair of Random Wisdoms;
First, and most important: Each of us has something to offer everyone - lessons of sorts, a thought, an image, a smile. Not all the lessons are warm, fuzzy and rosy - not all education is easily disseminated. But a lesson may be as simple as "hey, I smiled and she smiled back!" or as tough as "guess I shouldn't have gone for a drive after that fourth drink (sound of handcuffs clicking)". Some people seem downright unapproachable, distant, aloof, even angry. What lessons have they had to endure? What might we learn from them? Then the obvious: what can we do to help make their lives a bit easier to endure, if not completely enjoy? Each of us can learn such tiny, important things from one another.
The second piece is even simpler and more satisfying: what can I do to make another's life here better? Can I offer a joke, or a warm meal? A cup of coffee coupled with a willing ear? Perhaps even a room until a situation gets sorted out....
Being social beings, I find it perplexing that we can't use the technology that got us the internet, and the ability to look up or store vast amounts of knowledge on a hard drive to help each other. Yes, of course I see Facebook pages for every conceivable cause, including my own. Yet, when in close physical contact with our fellow humans, we back away, seeking instead to intellectualize every possible emotion, feeling, spirit....and missing the most basic primate behavior, that of talking, touching, joking, telling stories - communicating face - to - face, without the book. We retreat to our Blackberries to text another sitting across a table. We trumpet our achievements on social networking (what would Ben Franklin think of THAT?) sites, but sit on our hands when sharing a table, sitting in the cool, damp night.
I enjoy making people laugh, or challenging them to think. I love spouting off inanities, just for the simple pleasure of being inane and inviting people to look closer and see that I have a soul, a spirit, even a mystery that will take equal amounts of thought and poking to arouse. And as much as I enjoy using the computer to share thoughts like these with you, I'd be in my element if we were yammering to each other all night, being silly or thoughtful or reflective. Because on the internet, I can't see you smile or hear you laugh. I can't piss you off or argue sports in real time. No, that takes more effort. Effort which, I pray, you are willing to expend in order to make the most of this life.
That's all there is to it. Those of you who've met me on a trail and engaged me in conversation (not too hard to do) understand. Those with whom I've shared coffee and chatted about the beauty of the day and what it will hold within its boundaries understand. Those who've allowed me to be a part of their lives, as either benefactor or benficiary, friend or lover, jokester or foil understand.
Writing and posting this as I will may seem contradictory, but fear not. Stop me to talk if you see me on the street, and you'll know, too, of my passion for people and life. Break away, if only for a day, from your electronic bindings and listen to another, without anger, without judgment, without scorn. We'll all be better for the time when we can look only at the individual and our similarities and not the artificial factional differences that so frequently divude us.
Share a moment with someone you don't know. You might find it the most educational moment of your life.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Time's A Wastin'!
As usual, even my after work / resting part of the day is turning into an adventure. It's just to the left of 9 PM out here on the West Coast, it's still low 70's outside and I'm getting ready to go find some Great Horned Owls just north of town.
As I'm writing, a barn owl just flew over the house, causing a great disturbance in the Dawg Force - all three of them are sitting in back looking at the dark sky, wondering if some kind of angel is about to descend on them.....kinda cute, really. But the warm air tells me there will be a wide eyed flying circus this evening, and I want to check it out.
Another spring - summer favorite I haven't noticed yet should show itself soon - bats. The Giants could only hope to have bats as active as our neighborhood's. A few years back a small, innocent critter flew into the house and caused us no end of goofy looking drama as we tried to usher it back outside. It was probably not a fun evening for the flying mouse, though. By the time we managed to gently direct it toward an open window it had tired. Once outside the poor thing rested for a few minutes then flew off to take its frustration out on small, six legged flying things. Bats are good to have as neighbors.
Ah! Just now, a killdeer is going off about something a backyard or two away. Of course, they go off about damn near anything, so it's not a shock but it is amusing. Meanwhile, barnies are still chatting while cruising the neighborhood.
So I have a fascination with the natural, and a general distrust of too much electronic doodadism. That's the old fart in me, trying to find comfort as an analog guy in a digital world. That's why birds, lizards, ground squirrels, wolf spiders....all those beasts and critters that just don't want to leave their niche in the evolutionary chain....appeal to me so much.
Maybe there's a bit too much of that around my home. It's hard to interest a teenager in Mother Nature's magnificence, even harder to convince them to just sit, listen and marvel. Hopefully, age will mellow them and they, too will catch on. As one feels the urgency of life pulling in an unkind direction, there's little comfort in a world without all the flying, crawling, slithering, swimming beings with which we share it. I may, in fact, be just a bit more comfortable in their world sometimes. It's really a great place to be. Join me there!
As for me - I'm off for some owling. Have a wonderful evening!
As I'm writing, a barn owl just flew over the house, causing a great disturbance in the Dawg Force - all three of them are sitting in back looking at the dark sky, wondering if some kind of angel is about to descend on them.....kinda cute, really. But the warm air tells me there will be a wide eyed flying circus this evening, and I want to check it out.
Another spring - summer favorite I haven't noticed yet should show itself soon - bats. The Giants could only hope to have bats as active as our neighborhood's. A few years back a small, innocent critter flew into the house and caused us no end of goofy looking drama as we tried to usher it back outside. It was probably not a fun evening for the flying mouse, though. By the time we managed to gently direct it toward an open window it had tired. Once outside the poor thing rested for a few minutes then flew off to take its frustration out on small, six legged flying things. Bats are good to have as neighbors.
Ah! Just now, a killdeer is going off about something a backyard or two away. Of course, they go off about damn near anything, so it's not a shock but it is amusing. Meanwhile, barnies are still chatting while cruising the neighborhood.
So I have a fascination with the natural, and a general distrust of too much electronic doodadism. That's the old fart in me, trying to find comfort as an analog guy in a digital world. That's why birds, lizards, ground squirrels, wolf spiders....all those beasts and critters that just don't want to leave their niche in the evolutionary chain....appeal to me so much.
Maybe there's a bit too much of that around my home. It's hard to interest a teenager in Mother Nature's magnificence, even harder to convince them to just sit, listen and marvel. Hopefully, age will mellow them and they, too will catch on. As one feels the urgency of life pulling in an unkind direction, there's little comfort in a world without all the flying, crawling, slithering, swimming beings with which we share it. I may, in fact, be just a bit more comfortable in their world sometimes. It's really a great place to be. Join me there!
As for me - I'm off for some owling. Have a wonderful evening!
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