I attended our quarterly board meeting In Hetch Hetchy this weekend. After the meeting, I hiked the Rancheria Creek trail to Tueeulala and Wapama Falls, which were both roaring.
On the bridge under Wapama, all who passed emerged on the other side soaked, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over their heads. The trail was decorated with wildflowers, blooming late because of the excess water. Usually the Hetch Hetchy area starts becoming dry and hot by June. Not so this year!
The lure of Tuolumne proved irresistible this weekend (as it does on most weekends!). I took a drive to the high country on Sunday and decided to trek cross-country to the Dana Plateau and then to Dana Lake, which sits in the basin under Mt. Dana and its glaciers.
I have climbed Mt. Dana probably a dozen times, but I’d never visited the Dana Plateau area to the east. The hike transported me into a prehistoric wonderland, as the plateau has escaped the effects of glaciation. According to King Huber in his The Geologic Story of Yosemite National Park, “these upland surfaces have significance far beyond being unglaciated, because they are very ancient.” My feet walked on land with remnants of terrain 25 million years old.
Dana Lake glistened under the “not a cloud” in the perfect sky. To borrow one of John Muir’s favorite words, my view of the lake from the crest was absolutely “glorious.” The water reflected the clear sky, and I stood hypnotized by the deep cerulean blue color. The landscape before me, although underscoring my insignificance in the greater scheme of things with its unavoidable reminder of the far-reaches of time, produced what I can only term a state of rapture. I remained at my vantage point for some time, almost near tears.
My skimpy breakfast and lunch may have produced my emotional state. I’ve heard that is why John Muir wrote such flowery prose—he was almost always half-starved since he carried very little food. My remedy? The Mobil Station. Too bad Mr. Muir didn’t have the option of dining on fish tacos after one of his jaunts.
For those of you who missed our 29th annual Members Meeting, the weekend was filled with memorable experiences. Royal Robbins entertained over 300 attendees with his tales of climbing adventures. His stories of a daring childhood, especially of jumping freight trains, explained the origins of his affinity for scaling great heights. During his talk, he recalled the first golden age of climbing, which began in Yosemite in the 1950s. The audience posed many questions for Mr. Robbins; one woman asked about if he had any remorse about the anxiety he had caused his mother with his rock climbing excursions.
Not to be outdone, Mother Nature contributed her own excitement to the event, hurrying in a weather front that dropped the temperature over 20 degrees in twenty-four hours! (Although the rain held off for the meeting, we finally got the much-needed precipitation on Sunday with snow dusting the Mariposa Grove). At 4:00 pm, when the aftershocks from a 5.5 magnitude earthquake were felt in the park, we were too immersed in the raffle drawing to feel the earth move. Indeed, our event proved to be so much fun that we didn’t sense any of the seventy quakes that the Sierra experienced over the weekend.
On Sunday, despite the dark clouds looming overheard, I ventured into the Mariposa Grove for a hike up to Wawona Point. My clothing was geared more toward a mild fall day, so when the snow began falling, my gloveless hands quickly turned red. I didn’t mind, however, since walking among the majestic trees with a light snow for company made for a picturesque scene.
I had several events to attend this weekend and a bundle of work to accomplish. My solution was to ignore all of my commitments and instead spend the weekend in Tuolumne. After all, I rationalized, the pass doesn’t stay open all year.
I arrived in the afternoon on Saturday and decided to take the boat across Saddlebag Lake and hike the loop around the lakes. What I love about the Saddlebag Lake area is that with little effort and expense (a mere $6 gets you ferried across the lake) you can be in the midst of the High Sierra with alpine lakes and craggy peaks for surroundings. I’ve explored the area extensively, having climbed White Mountain, Mt. Conness, and North Peak, but I had never hiked the official loop around the lakes.
The trek around the lakes was an easy hike, so I didn’t feel I had really earned my dinner. However, my perceived lack of effort did not deter me from ordering a plate of fish tacos. After dinner, I returned to my favorite lodging, the El Mono Motel and read my Weatherwise magazine while I sipped on jasmine green tea from the motel’s café.
On Sunday, I joined Ranger Dick Ewart on the last day of his "Ice, Wind & Fire" outdoor adventure course. His hike focused on the natural forces that shaped the landscape in the park, not the music of a '70s rock band. The day I joined the group (a very fun bunch of poeple!) we traveled to Little Devil’s Postpile, a volcanic plug along the Tuolumne River, to learn about the “fire.” As always on Dick’s wonderful hike, I added much to my Yosemite knowledge. Did you know that the last period of major volcanic activity in the Sierra was 9 million years ago? Or that some grasses grow in donut rings in the high country because of water and mineral dispersal?
One bonus involved the clouds. It was a superb cloud day! The wind had picked up last night at Mono Lake, and had followed me to Tuolumne in the morning. The winds aloft were extremely unstable, as told by the clouds’ language. The wind produced an array of unique stratus formations across the sky; lenticular clouds stretched across the horizon, looking like UFOs had landed on the Sierras.
We ended the day on Erratic Dome, gazing at the 360 degree view as Dick named the peaks on the horizon. We huddled close as to hear his voice over the 30 mph winds.
After a few days of seeing the webcam display a photograph of Half Dome obscured by dusky smoke, I decided to check out the fire for myself. I headed up to Ostrander Lake, the open trail closest to the fire’s proximity. Smoke clouded my drive through Yosemite Valley at 8:00 am, but I soon escaped the haze near the Wawona Tunnel. As I rose out of the valley, all evidence of the fire had vanished—except for the views in my rearview mirror.
I had a delightful hike. The clear air (yes!—not even a whiff of smoke even though I could see the bold plumes from the fire), the gorgeous array of wildflowers, and the dearth of other hikers made for a perfect outing.
My eastern viewpoint at Horizon Ridge revealed a landscape shrouded in gray. I stood in day looking into a land of evening. Smoke from the fire had covered everything in a haze to the east of Horizon Ridge and the line between clear and haze was very distinct. Red and Grey Peaks, and Mt. Clark, were obscured but Merced Peak remained visible. Mount Starr King peeked out of the gloom, and I could just make out the contours of Half Dome.
Given the fire, Ostrander seemed a very appropriate hike. The forests along this trail have experienced two recent fires, in 1987 and 1994. The blackened skeletons of trees stood as testimonials to the fires, yet they were surrounded by an explosive growth of green revegetation. I certainly picked (unconsciously) the optimum time for wildflower viewing in this area. Fireweed proved true to its name and bloomed its lovely purple flowers in a few locations. The delicate Mariposa lilies were in abundance, along with the orange hues of the paintbrush. At one of the creek beds, I found a gathering of what looked like black-eyed susans. When I headed off-trail up a forested ridge, I discovered a faded snow plant hiding behind a tree.
Here’s an unlikely scenario: Alone at Ostrander Lake on a Sunday in July. After I snapped a photograph for two hikers, they departed down the trail and left me with only the company of the lake. I dove in the waters, which felt abnormally warm, and then sat on the rocks and ate lunch. As I dined, a helicopter made several trips to the lake to scoop up water. The helicopter flew so close that I felt rain from the fire bomb fall on me!
Our El Portal office is surrounded by a haze of smoke this morning, and on my commute to work the round disc of the sun cut through the gray blanket of smoke in an orange blaze. Fire in Yosemite. During a series of lightning storms the last week of June, a fire began near the Mono Meadow trailhead on Glacier Point Road. The park service is taking aggressive action to stop its growth, but the fire has forced the closure of Glacier Point Road, and many trails in the surrounding area (Four Mile, Panorama). The usual view of Half Dome from our webcam has been obstructed by smoke the last two mornings (see below). We also had a rockslide this week that closed Happy Isles for a brief period. All we need now is a flood to make our natural disaster week complete!
Snow in July? On our drive up to Tuolumne, after we had passed Tenaya Lake, it took me a moment to realize that snow covered the sides of the road. A visitor from Texas stood in her shorts, snapping a photo of her car parked in inches of snowy slush. I regretted that we had not picked yesterday to hike in the high country—what a wonderful experience it would have been to wander in Tuolumne Meadows in July as snowflakes danced around me. The snow had been very localized—a few hundred feet down the road it had disappeared.
The meadows were entirely clear of snow, and the almost clear blue sky and warm sun made it difficult to believe that the area had experienced a storm yesterday that had dropped rain, hail, and snow. High cirrus clouds decorated a small portion of the sky; their presence can sometimes indicate that a storm system has passed.
Today we’re headed to Young Lakes and we begin our hike at the Lembert Dome parking area. Despite it being a holiday weekend, we encounter only half a dozen other hikers on the trail. The path to Young Lakes first wanders (uphill!) through forests, then opens into a meadow where we cross Delaney Creek. To the east, we have a splendid view of Mt. Dana and Gibbs. Further along, we enter a basin under the watch of Ragged Peak, and look southwest at the Cathedral Range.
We had visions of relaxing and taking a dip in one of the Young Lakes, but the thousands of mosquitoes that descended upon us when we arrived at the shore of the lower lake caused us to retreat back up the trail away from the water. We ate our lunch, sans mosquitoes, on a nearby ridge, while enjoying views of the lake and Mt. Conness.
On our return trip we met park ranger Fred Koegler who was out on patrol on his trusted steed Bart. Fred had worked with our President, Steve Medley, when Steve was a ranger in the park. We warned him about the mosquitoes, but he told us one of the benefits of mounted patrol was that the horse deflected most of the mosquitoes away from him. Bart did not appear too pleased at this strategy!
In all my travels in Yosemite’s high country, I never thought I would encounter shrimp. However, a group of biologists working on the Sierra Nevada Inventory and Monitoring Network recently found fairy shrimp (Branchinecta lindahli) at 8,600 feet, an elevation record for the species. Don’t start packing the cocktail sauce in your backpacks! Since they inhabit an area in a National Park, these shrimp are protected.
The report noted that fairy shrimp eggs or cysts can survive up to 100 years under extreme conditions such as freezing or desiccation (drying up). Cysts can also travel on the wind, which might explain how these shrimp arrived at 8,600 feet.
Another splendid day in Tuolumne! I hiked up to Mono Pass and lunched at Spillway Lake, munching on a brownie and peanuts while feasting my eyes on Kuna Crest, and listening to the sound of the snow-melt rushing down the cliffs. Corn lilies had begun springing up in the meadows, along with some yellow flowers that I could not identify (our Illustrated Flora of Yosemite is just too heavy to bring on a hike!).
I met only four other people on the trail, and three of them had Yosemite Association connections! Judy Marks, our new employee at the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center, was heading up to the pass on her day off. One of our returning volunteers, Heather Schneider, and a new volunteer, Julie Rice, also had spent the day hiking in the area. We certainly have a great group of volunteers and employees who enjoy exploring the park.
On my return hike, the cumulus clouds had evolved into cumulus congestus, and I felt the first drops of rain hit me about halfway to the trailhead. After my hike, I drove to Tuolumne Meadows and watched as the storm formed over Mammoth Peak. An hour passed, and Mother Nature still had not produced any lightning, so I called it a day and headed home. However, I did stop at numerous vantage points along Tioga Road to watch the progress of the storm (thinking this safer than trying to watch the clouds in my rearview mirror). The clouds had climbed high into the troposphere and a definite anvil, the precursor to a thunderstorm, had formed. I almost drove back up to the meadows, wanting to see the lightning dance over the peaks, but I reasoned that I would have plenty of opportunities to see thunderstorms this summer.
Laurel Rematore (YA’s membership director), and I are members of the Association of Partners for Public Lands Training Corps. We provide training for land agency partners across the country in a variety of areas, including strategic planning, financial management, membership, and fundraising. As members of the corps, we delight in helping non-profits become successful in supporting public lands. This past weekend, we conducted a training workshop (along with our colleague Claudia Schechter, former CFO and VP for operations for the National Park Foundation) for two new organizations: Piedras Blancas Lighthouse Foundation and The Friends of Carrizo Plain. The energy and dedication exhibited by the participants made our job very easy, and we know these two groups will go on to do great work.
Part of the fun in training is seeing the public lands the groups will be supporting. The training was held at the Piedras Blancas Light Station, near San Simeon. We received a wonderful tour of the lighthouse, observed sea lions and elephant seals, and met a volunteer who spends much of her time trying to clear the site of the ubiquitous non-native ice plant. My favorite fun-fact of the weekend derived from the rocks that bear the Piedras Blancas name. Their whiteness comes from thousands of years of accumulation of bird guano!
Additionally, Penny Harris, a member of the Piedras Blancas board and docent at Hearst Castle, arranged a tour of the castle for us. Hearst’s grand and eccentric vision made for quite an experience. The site never once failed to impress, from the Greek Nymph pool, to the 16th century Spanish cathedral ceilings, to the 2,500 year-old Egyptian statue.
At our quarterly board meeting, we were treated to the company of a group of very special guests. We welcomed a delegation from Bhutan which was touring national parks in the United States in order to learn about educational and interpretive programs. The group included their host Caroline Getty; Mingma Sherpa, one of the first rangers in Mount Everest National Park; Norbert Riedy, a senior policy analyst for the Wilderness Society; Dr. Sangay, the head of the Bhutanese National Park Service; and, Lyonpo Sangay Ngedrup (the title Lyonpo designates the highest honor in Bhutan), the Bhutanese Minister of Agriculture.
Unfamiliar with Bhutan? So was I. The small country (about the size of Switzerland) is nestled in the Himalayas between Tibet, West Bengal, and Sikkam. It has been designated as one of the world’s top ten biological hot-spots for diversity. Snow leopards, tigers, water buffalo, and elephants are all found within its borders.
Although they came to Yosemite to learn from us, I think we were the ones who were inspired by their dedication and values. Bhutan has preserved much of its land in four national parks and numerous sanctuaries, and has focused on establishing wilderness corridors to link the areas. It boasts the largest proportion of forest coverage of all the Asian nations, and its government is committed to ensuring that 60% of its land remains forested. Bhutan is also the only country that measures its health not just in terms of economic production (GNP), but also in the context of GNH—Gross National Happiness. What a wonderful concept!
We just received word in the office that our friend Jane Gyer died yesterday. In her lifetime, Jane had produced an impressive legacy of Yosemite art and had collaborated with the Yosemite Association on many projects, such as Discovering Sierra Trees and A Trip to the Yosemite. I met Jane for the first time at last year’s spring forum and enjoyed hearing her discuss her passion for Yosemite and her art. I regret that I did not get to enjoy more of her company.
On a walk along the Merced River today, we were treated to an unusual atmospheric phenomena—a cloud iridescence. As I gazed up at the sky, a high cirrus unicus (mare’s tails) cloud stretched its tendrils over our heads. A rainbow of color decorated the bottom of the cloud, and while we watched, it slowly spread upward, like paper absorbing ink. The colors evolved as the cloud formed; it was like watching the birth of a rainbow. Shad, my partner, definitely regretted not bringing his camera!
An iridescence is caused by a difraction of light on small water droplets, and is related to the corona, another optical formation. The term iridescence comes from the word irisation, relating to the Greek deity Iris, who represented the rainbow. Not wanting to miss any portion of the show, I waited until the cloud had disappeared behind the hills (much to the disappointment of my dogs who could not understand why I stood still during our walk), delighted that the sky had painted so delightful a picture for me.
On my first visit to Tuolumne this year I feel like I’m greeting old friends as I drive up Tioga Road. I round the turn after Olmsted Point, and the landscape of Tuolumne embraces me, comforting in its largesse of sublimity. Tenaya Peak stands proud above its lake while Polly and Pywiack Domes act as the gateposts to Tuolumne, two granite monuments on either side of Tioga Road.
As I enter Tuolumne Meadows, I become reacquainted with more old friends. The trio of Mt. Dana, Mt. Gibbs, and Mammoth Peak wait patiently for me to arrive, knowing it’s only a matter of time before I visit. The meadow is remarkably free of snow, but the proliferation of white peaks surrounding it demonstrate that winter has not yet fully departed from the region.
I decide to keep driving and begin my visit with a jaunt to Gaylor Lakes. Once I enter Dana Meadows, winter further asserts its reluctance to leave. Unlike Tuolumne, Dana Meadows is almost entirely covered with snow. When I get out of the car, a chilly wind greets me. I don a windbreaker and head up the mostly snow-covered trail to Gaylor Ridge. Mt. Dana keeps me company as I ascend. The Whitney Survey named the peak in 1863 for James Dwight Dana, a professor of natural history and geology at Yale. One of my favorite hikes in the park, the climb is one I usually make in the spring when enough snow has melted to make it passable, yet enough snow remains to allow for a fun (and considerably faster) descent of sliding down the snowfields.
At the top of the ridge, I peer into a frozen world. Snow still covers the basin and the lakes sleep under the ice. To my right is Gaylor Peak whose red metamorphic rock has shaken off winter. To my left a cornice curls over Gaylor Ridge, a wave frozen in motion.
Tioga and Glacier Point Roads opened today!
Our association held a strategic planning session this past weekend at Asilomar Conference Center. Our board of directors and staff, along with representatives from the National Park Service and Delaware North Parks and Resort Company attended this important meeting. We reviewed our five-year strategic plan developed in 1999, and outlined a series of actions to help us continue to serve our educational mission to the park. The facilitators of the session asked us to begin with a review of our accomplishments over the last five years, which our President Steve Medley outlined for us. We truly have done some great work for the park! I am proud to be a member of our association.
After a day of sitting in a conference room (albeit one on the seashore), we were treated to an interpretive walk at Point Lobos. Kimi Kodani Hill, one of our board members, brought her father Eugene Kodani, who had spent his childhood on Point Lobos. His memories of the area provided a wonderful complement to the walk; he pointed out the sites of the homesteads, and offered anecdotes about growing up near the abalone canneries.
On the last morning of our stay, I walked out to the beach at 7:00 am to observe a negative tide, when the water falls below the average water line. I felt like I had access to a hidden world, as areas that were usually hidden under water now lay exposed. Starfish and jellyfish lingered in the tide pools, while anxious birds dashed among the “new” rocks looking for treats.
The First Annual Yosemite Birding Festival was a success! This past weekend over one hundred dedicated birders roamed Yosemite in search of life list sightings and were guided by an ornithologist’s dream team of Keith Hansen, Ted Beedy, David Lukas, David DeSante, and many others. Keith Hansen obtained remarkable video footage of two great horned owls nesting in Yosemite Valley, while Ted Beedy led field trips to Foresta and Crane Flat, and spotted the Vaux's swift and pileated woodpecker. The colorful western tanager and northern oriole also made an appearance over the weekend, along with over eighty other species. The famed Steller’s jay remained elusive (just kidding!)
Mark your calendars for next year’s festival: June 19-21, 2005.
This weekend we welcomed over 400 of our members to Yosemite Valley for our annual Spring Forum. This gathering provides Yosemite lovers with an opportunity to immerse themselves in all things Yosemite. Among the offerings: Superintendent Mike Tollefson updated members on park happenings, Ranger Erik Westerlund led a walk “The Natural History of Spring,” the NPS Mounted Patrol treated attendees to an equine visit, and climber Ron Kauk previewed his new documentary with Sterling Johnson, “Return to Balance: A Climber’s Journey.”
I was delighted to work with a group of children in the afternoon during my “Become a Junior Ranger” program. The kids picked up a bag of trash, drew a bear awareness poster, learned about animal habitats, and built (on paper) a Miwok acorn storage container or chuk-ka. When they had completed their activities, park ranger Mary Kline had them recite the Junior Ranger Oath and presented them with their Junior Ranger patches, which they wore proudly. When I was a child, my parents took us to various National Parks and I remember friendly rangers helping me become a Junior Ranger; I’m happy to be able to contribute to such an important program.
If you haven’t attended this splendid event, mark your calendars for next year’s forum on March 19, 2005. We hope to see you there!
Spring has arrived! At my home in Midpines, my garden is filled with the yellow faces of daffodils, and the crimson-purplish hues of the redbud decorate my commute in the Merced River Canyon. Being a native of New England, where springtime weather (i.e., when one can comfortably don shorts) doesn’t begin until June, I love living in a climate that permits hiking in shorts and a t-shirt in March.
My personal rite of spring is the hike to upper Yosemite Falls. Today, I made my annual trek to the top, accompanied by warm sunshine and a clear blue sky. Every season this hike offers a new perspective. One year a black bear greeted me on the trail, another year I hiked most of the way on snow. This year with the exception of seasonal creeks crossing the way, the trail was completely dry. However, at the top of the ridge, snow still survived in haphazard patches.
For those who have not made the trip to the top of Yosemite Falls, I highly recommend the experience. Leaning on the railing and watching the pure white water tumble over the cliff, while listening to the constant roar of the rushing water lulls me into a meditative state. Nature truly is magnificent in her artistic expressions!
The view from the top also afforded me a chance to check out the snow in the high country. The Clark Range stood proudly in the landscape, decorated with snow, but not completely covered. Half Dome has a thin layer of frosting on its head.
The Four Mile Trail to Glacier Point is still closed, and with good reason as I could see the many parts of the trail still immersed in blankets of snow. Unlike the Falls Trail, the Four Mile Trail is located on a north facing ridge and doesn’t receive the same treatment from the sun. I think this disparate treatment is highly unfair as often the Four Mile Trail isn’t accessible until late May or June and by that time the road is already open and Glacier Point becomes reachable by car. I find that after I’ve hiked four miles and achieved over 3,000 feet of elevation gain, seeing a car at the end of my journey dampens my experience.
We won! I’m pleased to announce that our Association received first prizes in the APPL Partnership Awards for our Outdoor Adventure and Cooperative Work Week Programs. Two other YA projects were awarded honorable mention: the publication A Trip To Yosemite, and its 80th Anniversary Commemorative Project.
Our staff journeyed to St. Louis for the annual convention hosted by the Association of Partners for Public Lands, a consortium of non-profits that support public land agencies in the United States. The annual convention provided valuable training and networking opportunities, as well as recognition through the awards program. Held at a different location every year, the conference also gives participants an opportunity to see the diverse resources our public lands offer. This year we explored the theme of westward expansion so magnificently captured in the Arch.
The Arch is truly something to behold, and I was prepared to not be impressed. At a mere 630 feet, its reach pales in comparison to the granite cliffs of Yosemite. However, one cannot be immune to the simple beauty of the structure and its perfect symbolism of the westward exploration. As I lay on the grass under the monument and gazed directly upward, the arc of the curve reached into the sky. I thought of Lewis and Clark, and their grand vision as they stepped into the unknown wilderness of the west.