Fire and water
June 28, 2017

As hard as it is to be in the midst of a disaster like the Goodwin fire, I have found that home is where I want to be when tragedy strikes.  We have occasionally been traveling when awful things are happening at home, and it creates such a helpless feeling, not that there’s anything we could do to change it; perhaps it has to do with the security of home.

We have friends in the path of the fire and of course are concerned about them and all the others in the midst of the mayhem.  Even more frustrating is being mostly out of cyber touch, so that getting information is touch and go.

We were away when the Granite Mountain Hotshots were killed, but we participated in the mourning along with the rest of the world and felt the incredible support as we traveled around.

Although unable to put away thoughts of the fire tragedy in our beautiful Arizona, I will continue to share what is transpiring with us right now.


Maintenance . . .

Our final day at Willow Springs has turned into a work day of sorts.  Yesterday, I sniffed out a propane leak at our Autumn Ridge caused by worn hose fittings.  Thus began the search for replacements in this fairly remote neck of the woods.  A few inquiries and phone calls provided the desired answer: we would not have to do a long drive to more substantial population centers to fix the problem.

Bridgeport could not help us, but a pleasant drive up to Mono Village filled the bill.  The marina there at that large forest RV park had enough in the way of parts that my handy pard was able to get us fixed up for the time being.

It's handy having a handyman on hand.

Twin Lakes, water, bears . . .

We were at Mono Village just yesterday for a much more pleasant reason.  It is the resort settlement at the top of Twin Lakes in a magnificent setting of heavily forested steep slopes topped by craggy peaks that mark the boundary with Yosemite. 

The eastern access to Yosemite, from our side of the range, has still not been cleared from the past winter’s extraordinary snow accumulations, but is expected to open soon.

 

The Twin Lakes are beautiful and produce record brown and rainbow trout.  Everywhere up in the mountains is water, coursing down and through the marshy flats of grass where tongues of sage-covered moraine hills reach, flooding roads and campgrounds as it breaks out and overflows normal channels and fills lakes beyond capacity.

Huge frothy cascades of water spill down the mountainsides with mind-numbing thunderous roars, tearing great tall pines from the earth as it undercuts their roots.  And that is where we decided to climb up to view one such cascade.

 

Any trail that might have been marked was obliterated, although there was a footbridge over a section of raging river.  The water had risen so far over its banks, though, that we had to ford a wide calf-high flooded section of icy water, so cold that I cried out from the pain.

In our slogging way through the wetlands, we spooked out a black-crowned night heron which objected to our intrusion loudly in its oddly clucky way while peering down indignantly at me from right overhead with his startling red eyes.

After our watery crossing, we climbed over and through downed trees to trace the path of the water that sought and found numerous routes down the mountain.

 

 

 

It was somewhere around then that my mind entertained the thought of bears.  After our bear encounter last summer in the San Juan Wilderness, I determined that we wouldn’t leave home without some sort of protection.  While still back home, I purchased two large canisters of bear spray, bear bells and an air horn, and there I was in backwoods bear country without any of it.  The bear spray was back at the trailer along with the bells (how would any bear hear our tinkling bells over the thunder of the water?) and the air horn was in the truck.  Hmmm. . . perhaps a little better planning would be advisable.

At any rate, we encountered nary a bear, but entered into magical scenes of cascading waterfalls down the steep slopes - everywhere the water roared its way downward in any way that it could over and around rocky obstructions.  It was incredible to feel the power of nature’s forces turning the deep high snows into life-giving moisture.

Downstream beyond the lakes was also flooding, of course, with riverside campgrounds underwater.

We were startled when a pair of common mergansers went whipping by on the water's surface.  Mrs. Merganser hopped out onto a pile of debris to spend some time preening and getting herself back in order after the wild ride.  The Mr. joined her briefly, but then decided to continue on his way, without a bit of notice from his mate.

Other birds we've added to the list here include Stellar's jay, black-billed magpie, broad-tailed hummingbird, red-winged blackbird and the cutest Bewick's wren that sings by the trailer incessantly as he seeks a mate to join him at one of the RV park's birdhouses.  In the meantime, our oriole continues to seek entrance into our trailer.

There are some massive trees in those woods - the kind that make you fall over backward when you try to see their tops.  This one is evidently called a Jeffrey pine, which I had never heard of before.

I wasn't kidding when I said the cell phone coverage in these parts is puny to nil.  Do people even remember how to use these?

This rodent was incredibly loud and screechy in warning us away from her three babies secreted under a rock.

A cell phone capture of the unidentified critter that has taken up residence in the coffee shop.  Maybe I should go into the trapping business . . . back home, Joan & Ron have had an issue, too, and I have plenty of experience live-trapping pack rats out of the back yard.