After the very disappointing Devil’s Postpile and the terrific view of the Minarets, we headed to Convict Lake, hoping for fewer people, better parking, and fall color.
We found the fall color on the upper end of the lake, about 1/2 way through the 3 mile loop trail.
OF COURSE I put my feet in.
Trail Guy and The Farmer are holding the aspens up for us.
It looks deserty out there because it is.
I’d rather look up the canyon toward the mountains.
Once again, there were helpful boardwalks.
We were a bit early for truly excellent fall colors. So, following a tip from a stranger, we headed up the Rock Creek Road. The color was better and the turnouts were few.
The ubiquitous unknown yellow flower added to the brilliance.
On Tuesday, we will conclude this trip and your Central California artist will return to the drawing table and the easels.
None of us on the trip had ever been to the National Monument of Devil’s Postpile, a weird rock formation. (Have you noticed that the word “weird” can describe most of what we saw while on the East Side of the Sierra Nevada?)
Frankly speaking, this thing ain’t worth the trip. The entrance gate didn’t warn us to park above and catch a shuttle, and then after a long winding bumpy road, we got to an overfull parking lot. What?? We parked in one for overnight parking only and walked back to the trailhead. A poo-ranger decided to clean the women’s restroom at the busiest time of day and there was a very long line. The short trail was crowded and dusty, and then this is what we saw.
This is it.
Can we go now??
There was a touch of fall color along the trail.
We headed back up the road, looking forward to the view point for the Minarets. As we were leaving, the entrance station guy asked to see our permit! Well how do you think we got past you as we headed in, Mister Bossy-pants??
This was Trail Guy’s favorite part.
There were 2 awesomely simply viewing devices. When you lined up the pipe with a peak name, you could look through the pipe and see that peak. We spent some time trying to decide where to put such a thing in Mineral King.
This is Banner Peak, a mountain that is wildly popular in backcountry photos. It looks different from this angle, but I was thrilled to see it because it appears in a book I edited and designed, “Trail of Promises” by Louise A. Jackson.
After seeing those many photos of Bodie yesterday, do you wish I’d stop posting for awhile?
Don’t answer that.
After Bodie, we stopped for ice cream at a wildly popular Mobil gas station/convenience store/deli where the Tioga Pass Road intersects 395 (the highway that runs North-South along the East Side of the Sierra Nevada.) Its big claim to fame is the chef from LA who has turned the deli into a great place to eat.
Mono Lake is weirdly wonderful. For many years, the LA Dept. of Water and Power has been using water from the 4 main streams that fill Mono Lake. The lake was dying, and after a long legal battle, an understanding was reached in 1994. The LADWP has to reduce the amount of water it takes until the lake reaches a certain level, something that will take a few more years. (Ten? I don’t actually know.)
Who cares? It is a bizarre body of water, and it certainly isn’t potable with 2.5 times the salinity of the ocean.
Well, it is the largest lake in all of California (Tahoe doesn’t count because we share it with Nevada). It is an important stop for migrating birds. It is where most of the sea gulls hatch. It might be the only place in the world with brine shrimp, so if they all die, I’m sure there will be some horrific chain reaction which eventually will come down to no more ice cream or some other unimaginable catastrophe.
Stop talking, Central California Artist, and show us some photos!
While I was wading in the lake, my people were watching from the shore, all probably a little grossed out by my description of the squishy mud.
I was grossed out by the alkaline flies.
The boardwalks are really helpful, and as the lake level rises, they will be easily removed.
I wasn’t ready to return to our vacation rental in June Lake, so we stopped by Silver Lake on the way back. The light was too low for good photos, so I deleted all of mine except this one.
Tomorrow we will see new weird sights. The East Side of the Sierra Nevada is certainly full of peculiarities of nature.
Bodie was the first stop on Day Two of our trip to The East Side of the Sierra. It is a a mining ghost town, a California state park described as being in “a state of arrested decay”. This means they keep it from falling apart any further, but they don’t rebuild. It was finally abandoned in about 1942, due to the country’s needs for a different type of mining during the war. There were 20 years of looting, pillaging, squatting, and destruction before it became a state park in 1962. It is fascinating!
We passed two herds of sheep on the long paved-turned-to-dirt road into Bodie. The light was wonderful but there were no turnouts, so this is a drive-by-shooting.
By the parking lot.
Why is this all here? (Yesterday I told you my mind is flooded with questions, and I meant it.) This certainly isn’t beach glass. Ghost glass?
I have helped 3 different students with their drawings of this church in Bodie. It is the most noticeable building when you first arrive.
The fanciest house in town is also the most photographed.
Peeking in windows is the only way to see what’s inside. After a few inside peeks, Hiking Buddy said, “I can see that wallpaper doesn’t go the distance.”
These yellow flowers were everywhere we went on our road trip.
This exterior wall is sided with pressed tin, normally used in ceilings.
Ubiquitous unknown yellow wildflowers.
I helped one of my drawing students with this view too.
This is the stamp mill. If we had timed it right, we could have taken a tour, but we had many other places to see. Choices and consequences.
Desolate place. (Duh).
This is a leaf spring. I’ve heard the term but never understood it.
The wire fence keeping us out had holes big enough to put my camera through. (Ha ha, can’t keep me out.)
The colors!!
The wooden sphere is a globe inside the schoolhouse, last used in 1942.
The most common sight all over Bodie.
Hi, George.
How did this beautiful handle survive the looting??
The wooden facade is actually a museum and store. The brick building is a former hotel.
Inside the museum, I was drawn to the light coming through the glass, mostly because of the blue.
In conclusion, it was a great 1/2 day in a weirdly wonderful, somewhat melancholy, slightly creepy view into the mysterious past.
Hey Central California Artist, why don’t you stay home since you love Central California so much?
Great question. (That’s what most interviewees say to almost every question.) Central California has been my home for (gasp) six decades now, but that doesn’t mean I am a homebody. Well, I actually am a homebody, because leaving home almost physically hurts. But there is so much to see, and being in the center of this massive state means all of it is accessible with only a day’s drive.
Where did you go this time?
So glad you asked! (That’s the other thing most interviewees say to the other questions not answered by “great question”.) We (Trail Guy, The Farmer, Hiking Buddy, and I) went to The East Side.
What is “The East Side”?
Great question. That is how folks on the west side of the Sierra Nevada refer to the other side. Our side is gradual, with towns, irrigated farms, and layers of foothills (and lots of fat, poor, and uneducated people*, so I am very comfortable here). The East Side is deserty and dry, lined by massive pointy peaks.
To go to the other side, passing through Yosemite and then over Tioga Pass is the closest northern route from Three Rivers.
The valley floor is a bit like Cedar Grove, only much more crowded.
Tenaya Lake is the little blue strip off in the distance. I sort of wish my Mom had gone with her gut instinct and named me Tenaya instead of Jana Banana.
At the bottom of Tioga Pass is Mono Lake. We had planned to go there on Day 2, but I got excited to put my feet in, so we went off on some dirt roads, just exploring.
While exploring, we came to this sign. I thought it had been written especially for me, because that is how I live. We had to turn around there, because we didn’t want to see if Hiking Buddy’s car could float since we needed it to get around and then back home again.
*It’s true! Read the statistics about Tulare County, and you will be appalled at us (but don’t forget that food comes from farmers, not grocery stores).
We closed our Mineral King cabin for the season. It is always a mixed bag, like most things in life. One last weekend, but a cold one with lots of work. One last time with friends, with some wondering if everyone will make it through the winter. One last look at things before the snow comes, hoping the snow does come.
(The Mineral King Road will be open until Wednesday, Oct. 30.)
It was cold. Is this a stalactite? Nope, it is a reverse icicle.
Trail Guy and I went to the Honeymoon Cabin to close it for the year. It is the little Mineral King museum, as opposed to the larger one in the Three Rivers Historical Museum.
This is the tree where I sat to paint a few times this summer.
And this is the scene I painted several times. The colors and light are sure different in October than in July or August.
Bye-bye, little cabin-museum. See you next summer.
Doesn’t this look gloomy, melancholy and cold?
. . .and doesn’t this look colorful, warm and bright?
The fall colors were good, but not great. This particular area usually has the brightest colored aspens, and this fall was no exception. (But I’ve seen them much brighter in past years.)
This is how it looks across the stream toward the Nature Trail. Some leaves gone, some bright, and a few aspens still green.
HEY KITTIES! We are home for awhile! (Tucker is shy and hiding, as usual).
A typical morning scene in our yard in Three Rivers, always a treat.
September was so full that I forgot to tell you what I learned! Better late than never, so here is the list of recent nuggets I’ve gleaned from life.
Painting with Marty Weekly – I learned so much about plein air painting by observing Marty.
Kinesthetic Sand – this is a cool toy of gritty squishiness, fun and fairly useless (but is fun supposed to be useful??)
Travertine is a new word to me: “white or light-colored calcareous rock deposited from mineral springs, used in building”. I doubt if I could use it intelligently in a sentence; it was used to describe the grass in the front yard of our cabin (hunh?) and I learned of Travertine Hot Springs on the East Side of the Sierra (but haven’t been there.)
Shopping in stores does not suit me – I’ve known this most of my life, but it was recently reinforced. It is not a recreational activity to me where I want to examine all the possibilities but more of a hunting expedition. The music is annoying, loud, and makes me want to leave immediately upon arriving; there are too many choices and too much stuff, which makes it hard to find what I am seeking. Further, I don’t even dress right to be in those settings (nope, leggings are NOT pants and I will outlast this fad).
Cities are fun! I enjoyed living in San Diego in my late teens and early 20s, but didn’t really belong and got homesick. Tulare County is a mess, but it is our mess and it is home. However, it is crazy fun to visit a city, especially with people who also enjoy being there.
There is a book called “Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know Now” by Gordon Livingston, and it is summarized on this website: https://sivers.org/book/30TrueThings of Derek Stivers. Wow, great information from a long time psychiatrist, gleaned from listening to patients for many years.
It has finally stopped being hot in Three Rivers, so I get to work in the studio with the door open. Although our cats are not allowed inside the house, I let them freely wander in and out of the studio. This won’t work if it is raining, but for now it is great fun.
I tried to convince Tucker, our shy black cat, that he could use the upholstered chair for naps. He only wanted to sit there if I held him, which doesn’t work while I am working. He ran outside, and when I turned around, there was Jackson, who needed no convincing.
Jackson
Pippin jumped on the drawing table (I was working at the desk behind the drawing table), so I opened the blind for him.
Pippin on alert.
While I worked at the desk, Pippin napped.
As much as I love summer in Mineral King, I also love fall at home in my studio in Three Rivers.
This picture is from spring of 2018; the plants and stepping stones are different now because almost nothing stays the same in life. Have you noticed this?
What was I doing in the studio? Bidding on a HUGE commissioned oil painting, gathering photos for some of my drawing students, helping a friend order calendars with his photographs, editing the TB book (haven’t mentioned that in quite awhile), and working on a new pencil drawing. When the drawing is finished, I’ll show you.
A friend-collector (collector-friend? friend/collector? How do I call these wonderful folks??) brought me a hand mirror, requesting that I paint wildflowers on the back.
I began with a sketch in colored pencil to see if I was on the same track with her.
When she approved, it was time for oil painting in great detail, my favorite way to paint.
The upper flowers will be wildflowers of Mineral King; the lower ones will be foothill wildflowers.
Green always makes things look better.
More green = more better.
Am I finished? Nope. Friend/Customer requested the leaf or two of a corn lily. I can do that! Besides, I want to do tighter detail on some of the flowers, and more solid greens in the background.
Now it is finished. This method of photographing it on top of the reference photos makes me smile.
I’ve been looking forward to painting in the painting studio/workshop for a few weeks. Going to Sandy Eggo, working on the mural, time in Mineral King – all good things, but still things that prevented painting in the studio. Life is a series of choices and consequences.
Almost finished.
Drying on the table beneath its companion commissioned Mineral King oil paintings.
