Tag Archives: Sierra Nevada

Lakes, Waterfalls, and Sky

mountains, nature, travel, , , ,
Eagle Creek

Before I finish the Maui Diary, I have to tell about our outing to Lake Tahoe last week. We were with Mr. and Mrs. C at their cabin, which is a true and rustic cabin with thin walls, so we wore our wool socks and flannel pajamas during the chilly mornings and nights.

Emerald Bay

But midday, on the trail to Eagle Lake, the temperature climbed to about 70° and the sun was hot. The warm air brought out the nutty scent of the cedars and other trees of the forest.

At our destination we ladies stepped into the melted snow of the little lake that is about a mile’s hike above Emerald Bay. Patches of snow were still hugging the shore of the lake all around, and the willows were barely in bud.

Eagle Creek streams out of the lake and flows over falls on its way into the bay. From a lower vantage point we looked out at the little island, the only island in the whole lake. The squarish thing at the very top is the shell of a tea house that was built there in the 1920’s. I’ve never been out to that island or on the lake in a boat.

Fannette Island

When our husbands went to the Nevada side of the lake one day for guy activities, we wives shopped for food and other supplies. Mrs. C found some blue champagne glasses at a thrift store, from which we drank wine the next evening out in the back yard. I sat in a comfy camp chair that laid my head back such that this was my view, of a pine-rimmed sky.

The mini-vacation was soon at an end, and Mr. Glad and I had to say good-bye to our friends and drive back down to the flatlands. But not so fast — we stopped to take another short hike to a place where we might get a good view of Horsetail Falls off Highway 50.

Picture of pussypaws (and lupine) by Pippin, I think

There hadn’t been wildflowers on our walk to Eagle Lake, so I didn’t feel so bad that day about not bringing my camera along. This day I left it in the car again ! and here, where we lost the trail that wandered over vast granite slabs, blooming pussypaws and purplish succulents were growing out of crevices, and red-orange pillows of moss made a splash in the shade of a downed tree. This picture is from another place and time, but I didn’t want to leave anyone wondering what the flower looks like.

We did get a good view of the falls, but my favorite part of this walk was the fields of rock, which I had missed since last summer. It was a satisfying finish to a springtime getaway.

web photo

Of Earth and Altar and Lake

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Mr. and Mrs. Bread joined us at My Lake for a few days. We canoed and hiked and ate a lot and sat by the fire. On the Lord’s Day we sunned ourselves on the deck while singing hymns to The God of Earth and Altar, praising Him for his Wondrous Love that flows Like a River Glorious.

In the top photo you can see on the left margin the brown needles of a dead tree that was the subject of some discussion between Mrs. B. and me.

There’s a lot of philosophy and theology in a dead tree, did you know? But I spent so much time doing the nature study while barely tackling the philosophizing, that my time-bucket is empty. Maybe next summer I’ll look at it again and write, and figure out what I think.

manzanita

Another dead tree (above), growing out of a hunk of granite that we christened Gumdrop Dome, was more strikingly beautiful. According to G.K. Chesterton, “Anything beautiful always means more than it says.” As I was saying….?

A baby manzanita bush was hugging a rock in a most endearing manner. It’s amazing how often I find a new and lovable manzanita bush in my view.

One night Mrs. B. was working out on paper what she thought about the meaning of things, as the dinner she crafted for us stewed in the oven, and we all enjoyed the fire her mister had built up to a controlled inferno. The thermometer got up past 60 in the daytime but at night dropped to freezing.
Wax Currant – Ribes cereum

Last year Mrs. Bread and I were roughing it alone up there, without our menfolk. I took more pictures then, though now I am finding that so few images in my Lake collection satisfactorily describe the lake itself. Next trip I’ll have to climb to the top of Gumdrop, as I haven’t done in years, and get the wide view with my camera. In the meantime, here’s a picture we took from there Once.

For me the most blessed part of our stay at the cabin was when Mr. Glad and I paddled our blue canoe for a long time, early in the morning when the surface of the water was smooth. The sky was deep blue, and most of the time the only sound was of our paddles dipping. Peace.

Angora and Virginia

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They sound as though they might be sisters, but really they are only linked by being part of an outing Mr. Glad and I had this week, up to Lake Tahoe to stay with our friends Mr. and Mrs. C. at their cabin. I took hardly any pictures — too conscious of my backlog of unsorted photos at home — and now regret it, because there are things worth sharing. So I found some pictures online to supplement my words.

The wild horses were the first thing that made me want photos. We saw them at the end of the day in Virginia City, Nevada, through the window of the (I hesitate to tell you) Bucket of Blood Saloon.

We were the only customers on the day after Labor Day, so we had the best table, with a view down the hill to the lower parts of town and a panorama of the mostly sage-green slopes. About a dozen horses grazed a few blocks lower down, and colts reared up to play-fight with each other, then prance off.

I knew that herds of mustangs still roam in the West, but I only learned today that “The historic Virginia Range herd, over 1,400 strong, can be found living wild and free between Virginia City, Reno, Dayton and Carson City.” It comprises half of the wild horses in the nation. Getting a glimpse of this little group made for a highlight of the day for me.

We did a lot of browsing in shops, where I bought a dance skirt, and a bag of Sugar Babies for old time’s sake. Boy, were they a disappointment. Certainly it is the recipe and not my memory that has failed. The lovely way the candy coating would melt into crystals is not to be experienced anymore. Corn syrup does not equal sugar, for one thing.

The next day our hosts introduced us to their family favorite Place to Go When at Tahoe: Angora Lake, or more precisely, Upper Angora Lake. These lakes gave their name to the Angora Fire that destroyed so much property here in 2007, on record as one of the top ten most costly fires in U.S. history. We approached the lake on a glacial moraine ridge, tree-lined Fallen Leaf Lake on our right and acres of burned-out forest on our left.

Looking south over the Angora Fire area (GJ photo)

After we reached the parking lot for the lake, we hiked another mile before reaching the lake and the sweet resort that sits next to it.

On one side of the bowl a wall of granite rises up, not too sheer, with plenty of ledges and crevices from which to high-jump into the deep waters. Mr. Glad was the only one of us who swam, but we ladies waded for quite a while and wiggled our toes in the fine granite gravel.

From top: Tahoe, Fallen Leaf, Lower and Upper Angora
Upper Angora Lake Beach

The mister rented one of those rowboats in the photo so that he and I could enjoy a lazy time rowing around the lake and examining the lichens and berries that grow on or out of the granite cliff; we all spent a good while sitting in the sunshine when it got through the afternoon mountain clouds, reading our books, and watching chipmunks scurry around.

Sulfur Flower, sage, and Mr. G

On the way back I took my own photos, so among other things you can see my view as our little excursion, and our mini-vacation, drew to a close. You can’t see what a contented vacationer I was; you have to use your imagination for that.

California Mountains – Snow in Springtime

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Spring was a happening thing in the high Sierra. Last winter extended well into June, and on at least one date that month the snowpack was the highest on record. This means that at the end of July when we were there, quite a bit of snow was still melting.

Leopard Lily

From our trailhead at nearly 10,000 feet, we only ascended another 1,000 feet or so, but the difference in the flora was notable. Higher up, the flowers and shrubs were still in bud; the snow hadn’t been gone long.

Willow buds
Mountain Pennyroyal in bud

 


The violent weight of snow had deformed this cluster of trees in such a symmetric way as to be artistic.

 

Spearhead Lake

 

Rosy Sedum with Buttercups

At the highest elevations, every lovely bloom seems like a miracle, when you consider how much of the year the plants are just roots or seeds under the snow, how quickly they are required to respond to the light and warmth and come into their glory.

In some places they were sprouting out of a puddle where snow had likely been lying a few days previous, like in this low place I had to hop over to reach a spot overlooking Long Lake. You can see Mr. G. in the distance ready to spread out our picnic of cheese and crackers.

Around us and at our feet hot pink penstemon was making for a brilliant contrast with the midnight blue water and the granite rocks.