Fridays are about Mineral King*

Classic Mineral King, sold

I have some new friends, acquaintances really, because we haven’t met in real life, but we are learning to know each other. They are bloggers like me, but with much bigger audiences, so I feel honored that they show up here from time to time. They don’t know about Mineral King so here is a little introductory information.

Heading to Eagle Lake, 16×20”, $650

Mineral King is an area of Sequoia National Park, accessible by a gnarly dead-end road. It is the most beautiful part of Sequoia and only open seasonally—Memorial Day through the end of October, weather depending. There is a community of private cabins, and I am fortunate enough to have married in 39 years ago.

Sawtooth #65, 24×30”, $2000

Cabin communities are a real treasure, with their own unique culture. Because I have lived most of my life at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, I have had the privilege of spending time in four different cabin communities in the mountains. My business is called Cabin Art because when I started, I lived in a cabin and I drew people’s cabins. I have published two books of of pencil drawings on two different cabin communities—one sold out a long time ago and the other still available.

Honeymoon Cabin, sold

Because Mineral King is such a beloved place, I write about it frequently during cabin season. I try to incorporate some art**, because this blog is supposed to be about my business. Frankly speaking, people are more interested in cabin life, the trails, wildflowers, the road, and Mineral King in general than in my art.

Sawtooth #66, 12×24, $650

*I won’t be writing about Mineral King every Friday at the beginning of this summer because I have a handful of situations that will prevent me from going quite as often as normal.

**Yes, this time a lot of art. I came here to earn a living.

P.S. I’ve included links to the first four “chapters” (posts) that I wrote about cabin life back in 2023. If you want more, you can follow the prompts at the bottom of each “chapter” (in quotes because it is more like a picture book than a chapter book) that will lead you to the next posts. There are twenty-two.

Mineral King—the Season has Begun

For those new to my blog, Mineral King is an area of Sequoia National Park where I spend copious amounts of time in the summer. Next Friday I will provide a more in depth explanation.

Today’s post is a long one. You’ve been warned. . .

The road is under construction, so it is a mess, and there is a schedule to follow. This is what we saw at the bottom of the road.

We stopped by Silver City to deliver paintings and cards.

I’m given quite a bit of leeway in placing the pieces and actually took my own nails, easels, and hammer.

That’s my design on the tee shirt in the background.
This is that tall narrow space for which I paint something tall and narrow each season.
The most popular subject—sold a 6×6” version of it on the weekend.

Shortly after arriving at the cabin, we headed back to a friend’s cabin with an enormous tree blocking her driveway. The men didn’t have big enough chainsaws but eliminated some parts to create a path around, carried some of her gear up to the cabin for her, and supplied a hand-truck so she could get things back down to her car later. “Did you see Tracy’s tree?” was a question we heard many times over our stay.

She had some good flowers in her driveway.

Very very tiny unknowns.
Five spot is the name of these cuties. Those leaves in the center look like a cactus. What in the world??

Hiking Buddy and I hoofed it back up the road to our cabins.

I had a nice afternoon of watching the daffodils and untangling yarn from a sweater that fit me wrong.

Our after-dinner walk was beautiful, but my camera is fairly inadequate for this sort of lighting.

However, it is perfectly fine for this sort.

The next day was busy for the men as they assisted cabin neighbors in various opening tasks. However, I had time to continue watching daffodils bloom.

Hiking Buddy and I ventured up to Spring Creek to see if the bridge had been installed yet. Nope.

When the men were available, we took a walk together.

Some of the cottonwoods had quite a few broken branches, and one was swinging precariously. The guys tried to dislodge the widow-maker, but it survived (and so did the guys—no widows were made.)

Crystal Creek is running well, very wide and shallow (sort of like Facebook).

There was more time in the afternoon for unraveling that sweater and watching the daffodils.

More walks (I am unsure about hiking with my peripheral neuropathy this year. . . more will be revealed, but for now, walks are fine with me.)

These are the tiniest blue lips I’ve ever seen! All I had so that you can appreciate the size is this chapstick (okay, Carmex, but who knows what that is?) in my pocket.

It was chilly in the evenings so we gathered with friends around this ring of fire. (Someone besides me was wearing Crocs—mine show at the bottom).

Look at the daffodils just 3 days later. Yellow wildflowers are a little bit boring to me, but daffodils are neither wild nor boring.

It wasn’t a hot weekend, and the drive down was quite beautiful. Almost all the wildflowers were yellow, and I wasn’t bored. Bush poppy, flannel bush, blazing star, monkey flowers—all yellow. The bush poppies are prolific and abundant. I didn’t photograph the areas where they cover the hillside, because it isn’t prudent to stop the Botmobile on steep slopes or blind corners or when the road is just one lane or if someone is on our six and there is no turnout.

The lupine are hanging on too.

Thus we conclude our very long post about Mineral King. Next week I will show some Mineral King art (because this is my business blog and I came here to earn a living—any questions?) and explain for my new far-away friends a little bit about this place we locals love so dearly.

Mineral King Road

For many years, there has been talk of repairing the Mineral King road. Talk talk talk, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Surveys, public meetings, emails. Fires, floods, emergency repairs, road closures.

Finally, the work has begun. The road won’t be open to the public until the Wednesday before Memorial Day weekend, and there is a very rigid schedule about when you can pass through the work zone and when you will have to just wait.

I was happy to see all the green and the wildflowers, along with the reassurance that the temporary bridge made it through the winter. (I’m always relieved to see the sign on the way back home too, because if it is temporary, maybe it will vanish while we are up the hill.)

Here’s my old friend the Oak Grove Bridge. During all the public meetings about the road, it was voted to simply repair the bridge. Then Those Who Know More determined that it isn’t repairable and there is talk of converting this bridge to a foot bridge and putting a new driving bridge upstream. I don’t expect this to happen in my lifetime. This is on the county portion of the road, and the construction is only on Sequoia National Park’s portion, ending about 4 miles below the end of the road. Yeppers, the very rough upper dirt portions will remain and the threatened fancy-pants parking lots aren’t part of the plan.

That’s Case Mountain over there. It is very green, and there are new roads carved in because of the wildfire last fall.

This is Squirrel Creek, just above the Sweet Ranch and below the park boundary, now with a mysterious road-construction-generated load of rocks by the turnout.

We pulled over to wait for the pilot car, and enjoyed some wildflowers and a view.

This is looking back at the road, still green. The wildfires (in 2020, 2021, 2024) required much brush clearing so it is a lot easier to see traffic ahead now. (Looking for a silver lining. . .)

Because Mineral King isn’t open to the public just yet, I didn’t want to rub it in that cabin folks can go. Right now it is rather colorless, because the green is barely beginning and there is a lot of snow. Here is the classic view from the bridge on the way out, which was a bit of a hustle in order to meet the pilot car*.

We got to the waiting area (just above Slapjack) with enough time to see some harlequin lupine.

It is going to be a summer of disruption, waits in the sun, and a much longer drive to Mineral King. (We left home at 8:30 and arrived at the cabin at 11:30. . . sing with me “a three hour tour, a three hour tour”)

*Someone reported being 10 minutes late to the pilot car area and he had to wait 3 hours for the next pass-through time. Do not mess with these construction workers and their schedule!

Final Weekend of the 2024 Mineral King Season

Business first

First, an ad. I hope to see you all (my tens of readers) on Saturday!

Mineral King

Many people enjoy Mineral King in summer; fewer make it there in the fall, and a very few make it up in the winter (for many good reasons, beginning with the locked gates). I think of it as a summer place, and with this year’s extended heat, the season seemed lengthy. The added time was a gift, because we thought it was toast with that stupid Coffeepot fire.

Lots of photos for you to enjoy today. . .

Pink stuff from the fire, severe pruning, and a few smokes.
Crews are still working, and there are many many dropped trees.
We got mail! (Thank you T & L P)
The water is low; the colors are fading.

I went out with my dying camera battery to capture a few photos in the sunshine.

It was good to see that work has gotten done on several cabins in spite of the rude interruption of the stupid Coffeepot fire.

3 new roofs are in this photo… prolly too small to pick out here.

The next day began overcast. We went for a walk past Crystal Creek to see if we could discover any fall color. Nothing to see. Hiking Buddy and I went out a bit later, thinking it might be our only chance. However, the sun came out later, so we went back out. Look at the difference the sun makes! (And please excuses the dark spots from Trail Guy’s camera, which I borrowed due to forgetfulness on my part to bring the backup battery.)

While hanging out with my little friend, I showed her something peculiar.

That was there all weekend and no one knows why. So, we added a pair of found sunglasses. We are easily amused at our cabins, always finding something fun to do.

There is such a nostalgic feeling to the season’s final stay at our cabins. Although we see our neighbors throughout the year because we are real life friends, closing is a bit melancholy.

While we made one final stop at the community dumpster (managed by Trail Guy, the all-purpose mayor), I took the borrowed camera for one final look at some fall color. Turned out to be more fall light than actual autumn-type colors.

And finally, it is a huge relief that the temporary bridge allowed us to come and go all season.

I never did figure out the necessity of this sign. The word “temporary” made me want to drive much faster than 5 mph.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 6

After wondering all weekend if we would be evacuated from Mineral King, a Park employee came by our cabins on Monday morning around 8, telling us to be at the Conifer gate (7.5 miles below our cabins) to be escorted out. If we didn’t want to go, that was fine, but then we’d be unable to leave for 48 to 72 hours. (They couldn’t make us go but they would be able to make us stay. . .?)

There were about 10 cars, including Park personnel, with someone at the front of the line and someone at the rear.

There was a meeting of the Silver City Mayor and the Mineral King Mayor, as they discussed and examined the locks on the Conifer Gate.

We headed down into thickening smoke. . .

. . . and were stopped at Wolverton Point. Another caravan was heading up the hill.

Lookout Point is a gathering place for vehicles. Initially it was built to look out for fires; now it is a place to look out at fires.

The mayors convened at the lower gate for another session of locks, while a Park person oversaw their negotiations.

It was a long weird smoky drive down. The good part is that we never had to wonder if we would encounter any vehicles coming up the road.

Tomorrow (yes, Sunday, I know. . .) I will share some photos of Mineral King, taken by Trail Guy to contrast the smoke with the clarity of the mornings.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 5

Our weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King began each day with clear skies, and hope that the clarity would remain for as long as possible.

We headed down the road for a walk one morning, not quite as early as hoped, and were also delayed by conversation with fellow cabin folks. Everyone was in that state of uncertainty, so there was much shared speculation, along with passing on whatever information we had gathered from various sources.

Oh boy, here comes the smoke.

Looks like a great year for currants, but I won’t be bothering with them this year (or ever again —view item 8 in the linked post for why not.)

I wonder if this cabin will get repaired before the road closes, or before winter sets in.

We crossed the bridge into Cold Springs Campground, doing a bit of horticultural investigating (NOT recreating).

I can’t remember what these berries are and my books are already packed up due to uncertainty.
What is that weird fuzzy stuff?

I wonder if this is the same group of aspens that I photograph over and over.

This is definitely the same section of stream, named Iron Springs by my most faithful blog reader and commentator.

There is a hint of fall coming.

I am NOT recreating—I am REPORTING!! (Oops, where is my press pass??)

The next day—not evacuated, but escorted out, with the option to “shelter in place” for 48-72 hours. This was explained in Monday’s post but will be continued tomorrow (yes, I will post on Saturday —not certain whether to apologize or say “you’re welcome”).

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 4

What does one do in Mineral King when it is too smoky out for any real exertion or appreciation of the scenery?

Sometimes one sits inside with a friend and draws.

Sometimes one does chores, anticipating an early closing due to uncertainty.

That uncertainty chased us all weekend along. We contacted cabin neighbors who were not present to ask if they’d like their cabins drained so at least the pipes wouldn’t freeze. We had no way of knowing if the road would be closed or when we might be suddenly evacuated due to the Coffeepot Fire.

This isn’t too bad, smoke-wise. The intensity of it changed throughout the day and from day to day.

The fire isn’t threatening Mineral King, but if it crossed the East Fork of the Kaweah and started climbing toward the road, there would be too much equipment to allow civilian traffic.

I did some noticing of details, while just hanging around.

There was a short walk to inspect a footbridge that got replaced. Seems that the Park has been attending to some of its neglected maintenance chores.

Ooh, a hint of fall

The little cowgirl insisted on visiting the mules again. This was not recreational, of course.

She was a little braver this time.

Thus, we ended another day on a weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 3

After a harrowing intense drive, an hour longer than normal, we made it to Mineral King. It was smoky when we arrived, not worth any photos.

We gathered with neighbors in the early evening to share snacks, stories, and speculations on what the uncertain weekend might hold for us.

One member of our little group was more tickled by her sparkly cowgirl boots than interested in adult conversation.

The next morning, she requested that someone accompany her to the pack station so she could greet the mules, and perhaps even feed them a few carrots, pilfered from the previous evening’s snack trays. We were all early risers, because that is when the air was cleared out from the night’s down-canyon breezes.

Trail Guy willingly postponed breakfast to accompany our little friend.

There was a brief stop to admire the grouse.

Trail Guy ended up doing the carrot-feeding, since the little cowgirl was a bit intimidated by the eagerness of the stock.

They returned to the cabins so that Trail Guy could have his postponed breakfast, but Hiking Buddy and I headed toward Franklin Falls. We were NOT recreating—it was strictly for health purposes. I was testing my numb feet to see if they could carry me 4 miles on a trail. And it was ENTIRELY NECESSARY to scrub out our lungs with some clean air.

Made it 2 miles; could I make it back? Let’s not worry about that just yet.

Wait! What is this?? It’s Dylan on Emmy, leading his string out of the backcountry after resupplying a trail crew.

In case you didn’t know, if you encounter stock while on a trail, move BELOW them off the trail.

We crossed Crystal Creek on the way back to the cabins, and this time I just walked straight through. We knew time was of the essence, because the smoke was working its way back up into the Mineral King valley.

One last look at the beautiful Emmy at the pack station, with the faithful plainer-looking but still handsome Chuck behind.

We had a smoky afternoon and evening to get through. I’ll tell and show you more tomorrow as we continue our tale of an uncertain weekend in Mineral King.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 2

My regular posts are postponed while I tell you of our weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King.

I went up the hill with a friend/cabin neighbor on Friday morning. She picked me up at 10:30, and we did not arrive at our cabins until 1 p.m. I used the word “harrowing” to describe the drive, and while Trail Guy wasn’t there, he said the word was too strong. So, I pulled it back to “intense”.

For the first 6.5 miles, we encountered many large trucks heading down, since we timed our drive poorly and coincided with the shift change. There was a great deal of backing up and waiting in turnouts and vaguely wide spots.

We had to give our names and cabin #s at Lookout Point to be checked off a list of folks going to close their cabins. We were told that the Mineral King trails were closed to recreating, and sent a few hundred yards ahead to wait for the signal to proceed.

When we were released, we encountered crew after crew brushing along the road and over the bank. There were big pick-ups, trucks, and really big trucks along the road and in the road, so we crept along in between and around. I didn’t take many photos of people as we passed because it felt rude. I missed one great shot of a crew all lying on the road and the bank during a break, but it is seared in my memory.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here are several thousand words worth of the drive up.

looking back down
This is looking back down the road behind us.

It was smoky in Mineral King, but we were greatly relieved to have arrived in a place of peace.

Tomorrow I will tell you more about our weekend of uncertainty.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty

I am now down the hill from a long weekend in Mineral King and since a great number of my blog readers want Mineral King information, I will tell you about it this week.

The road is now closed. We were not evacuated, but were escorted out this morning. Everyone wanting to leave had to meet at the Conifer Gate at 10 a.m. Those who didn’t leave are “sheltering in place” for 48-72 hours. We were under an Evacuation Warning.

Saturday evening a pair of men from the Tulare County Sheriff’s Office came around, warning us of impending road closure and tacking notices on the doors of all the cabins (whether or not they were occupied or had been closed for the season).

What to do? Begin packing up? Nope. Take a walk and enjoy what time remained.

Nope, we were NOT recreating, an activity that was forbidden when we were admitted entrance for the purpose of closing our cabins.

We spent Sunday in uncertainty—close for the season? Simply drain and anticipate a return? Take down as much as possible? Leave things up in case of a return later this fall?

Fortunately, we did a lot of paring down of our belongings, packing, and loading the pickups. (The Botmobile is a bit smallish, so we rely heavily on the generosity of The Farmer with his Massive Pick-em-up Truck, HUGE!)

“Fortunately”?

Yeppers. A Park official showed up around 8 on Monday morning to tell us to be at the Conifer Gate by 10 a.m. We got a move on, and made it.

We stopped at the Silver City Store so I could rescue my unsold paintings and cards, and headed down to Conifer.

Tomorrow I’ll show and tell you more about the Weekend of Uncertainty.