This is the title of a very good book about Mineral King, written by a cabin guy who began working at the pack station at age 12.
Last Saturday Kevin Alltucker spoke at the annual Mineral King Preservation Society’s Picnic in the Park. Great storyteller, excellent speaker, knew how to reach the crowd and handle a microphone. He took lots of questions, and he quit before we were tired of hearing him. (The bulk of the crowd was behind and around me.)
I think you ought to buy a copy of the book. Really!
Too bad you weren’t there in person; it was $15 that day, instead of $18. No problemo—I’m confident that you can afford the extra $3.
Wildflower
Meanwhile, I continued to wrestle with my iPhone14 and got these photos of a flower that was at the end of the Blue/Purple chapter in Mineral King Wildflowers (sold out, so sorry, but not terribly sorry because there might be another book coming next summer…)
50 years ago today I got medevacked* off Sawtooth.
A group of high school kids were on a backpacking trip in Mineral King, a week long loop. We were fully chaperoned by experienced adults, age 32. (Why does that no longer seem like an adult age??)
We camped at Columbine Lake below Sawtooth with a layover day planned. A group wanted to climb Sawtooth on the next day, and although I was tired and a bit afraid, I chose to go. My dear cousin Ruthie was part of the group and I didn’t want to be left out or let people know that I was a chicken.
The leaders wanted to try a new route up Sawtooth. Meant nothing to me, because I was just following along.
That was foolish. We were climbing up a chute, and following someone up a chute makes you vulnerable to falling rocks.
Sure enough, I got blammed** in the forehead by a falling rock knocked loose from above, saw it coming, and had no place to go or time to move. According to the eyewitnesses, I summersaulted 50-60 feet down the chute causing more rocks to fall, thinking the entire time, “I have to stop, I have to stop!”
When I stopped, I wiggled my feet to be sure I wasn’t paralyzed, realized I still had my contact lenses in, and that there was blood running down my face.
The leaders above got everyone down carefully. I remember saying to Jerry Peters as he passed by, “Don’t look at me; my face is all bloody.” Thanks, Captain Obvious, and why did I care if Jerry saw blood all over my face?
Mr. Leader stayed with me, and Mrs. Leader got everyone back down to Columbine Lake. The biggest strongest boy, Matt Moffett, got chosen to run to Mineral King for help. He ran the 8 or 10 miles to a crank phone in the Sawtooth parking lot, where he called for help. (I still have no idea how a crank phone works or who he called.)
This is not a crank phone, but it’s the only phone picture I have.
Eventually a helicopter arrived, and a few people and gear were unloaded. I remember it having trouble figuring out where to land, and that it made several trips. I also remember that Mr. Leader was shivering, because at one point during our wait it hailed a little bit. I finally told him to take his jacket back because no matter how many layers I had, I continued to shiver. Shock, I think.
There was a gurney, ropes, helmets, lots of people with rock-climbing vocabulary. According to Mr. Leader, rocks still fell occasionally as they moved me onto the gurney and into the helicopter. The inside, not the outside.
We flew to Ash Mt. where an ambulance was waiting. It wasn’t until then that I gave them my parents’ phone number, because what were they going to do knowing I was injured but inaccessible?
It was upsetting to have them cut the legs of my new jeans, and it was thrilling to know that we ran the 4-way stop on Highway 198 (this was pre-traffic light, but everyone still calls that intersection toward Exeter “The Four Way”).
Broken collarbone, lots of cuts and bruises, 2 black eyes (I didn’t let my Dad take a photo, and now I sort of regret it out of curiosity, but not too much),and a hematoma on my leg merited one night in the hospital. It was hard to walk, and eventually I figured out why: I had major blisters on my heels that prevented my feet from going flat on the floor. Those stupid hiking boots were brutal, but everyone wore them. Give me Crocs anyday over those beastly immovable ankle weights.
These boots weren’t really made for walking; it was a marketing scheme.
Matt was taken in by one of the cabins on the parking lot and fed enormous amounts of food, which he reported barfing up afterward. He became my boyfriend during my senior year in high school, a good guy, but we weren’t a match made to go the distance. (A 16-year old is not wise enough nor ready to choose a lifemate.)
While in college, I returned to climb Sawtooth with a group of friends. We took the conventional route, it clouded up when we got on top so there was no view down to the valley, and it was so scary that I sat down and cried. One of the guys had a rope with him and helped me back down with the rope around my waist while he kept me secure (Thank you, Doug!!)
Sawtooth. It’s good to paint and draw and see from Visalia as a landmark, but other people are welcome to climb it. I prefer to go to White Chief or the Franklin/Farewell junction.
P.S. Mr. and Mrs. Leader have remained part of my life, dear friends with whom I correspond regularly and love like family (minus squabbles that sometimes accompany family relationships).
P.P.S. Trail Guy doesn’t like Sawtooth either. We are a match made to go the distance.
The idea was to hike somewhere during my most recent stay in Mineral King, but instead, I just hung out at the cabin with a few forays out to attempt to photograph a few wildflowers. I also ventured out to photograph a cabin to draw, but in case the cabin owner is one of my tens of readers, I won’t be sharing that info. It’s ‘posed to be a surprise. So, this post is another glimpse into cabin life.
We looked inside the Honeymoon Cabin, which is a mini museum for the Mineral King Preservation Society. It is tiny, but the phone-camera makes the room look spacious. I’m guessing it is about 10×12’.
I’ve been confused by the name of a flower: rein orchis? rein orchid? It depends on which wildflower book you are reading. I found this in a very old wildflower book.
We had to check on a friend’s cabin because he couldn’t get there and needed to learn about a potential propane leak. While Trail Guy poked around, I did too.
A great deal of knitting took place, which was good, because last week I learned that the sweater I’m making for a friend was too small, so three weeks of knitting hit the frog pond*. (If you are a knitter, you may be aware of the sad fact that swatches lie.)
Hey Reader Kathy W., this photo of Sawtooth is for you.
It took many attempts to get these photos because I can’t seem to figure out how to force my iPhone 14 to focus on what I choose. It has a mind of its own. Yes, I have tapped on the thing I want focused, but it just sits there obstinately blurry, waiting for me to press the shutter.
This was along the road.
It was mostly uneventful—I vacuumed the cabin, swatted biting flies, did some sketching for the commission, scratched fly bites, visited with many cabin neighbors, sprayed more insect repellent just in case it might discourage the flies, split a little wood, scratched more, and finished reading two books: Mostly What God Does by Savannah Guthrie, and Communion: Finding my Way Back to Faith by J.D. Vance. Both of those deserve 5 stars.
And thus we conclude another report on cabin life in Mineral King.
A faraway friend got a thrill and texted me about it.
She was in the downtown area of her town, went into a gift shop, and was floored to see two pencil drawings of Mineral King. Upon recognizing them, she took some photos and texted me.
These were reproduction prints which used to be my “bread and butter” type art. It was almost automatic when I finished a new drawing to get it printed, sign, number, package, and sell it.
I guess someone who lives 700 miles away got tired of these two drawings and somehow they ended up in this gift shop.
This is Beulah, which was the historic name of Mineral King. The collage was done using historic photos, and these prints didn’t sell nearly as well as drawings of current scenes. It is priced at $295!!
That’s okay. I get tired of the art hanging on my walls and rotate it out. Unless it is my own painting. Wait, I do pull those off the walls if they seem appropriate for a particular show or a potential customer has expressed an interest.
This is my first version of Farewell Gap with the Crowley Family cabin. I’ve drawn it many times since, and if you look at the drawings in chronological order, the growth is evident. (The growth of the artist’s skill, not those trees, one of which is now history.) This is priced at $150 or maybe $195—my spy was so excited that she forgot the amount!
The shop owner was quite thrilled; having someone recognize the subject and the artist validated her selection of merchandise.
Thank you, ‘70s Ranger Daughter Mari for discovering this “vintage cabin art”!! And thank you for getting in touch to tell me the story and sharing your photos!
This could be cabin life anywhere, especially if your cabin is part of a community of cabins.
We often take walks to the bridge in the evening to enjoy the views, the light and one another’s company. My guess is that many cabin communities have gathering places and times in their own areas.
Sometimes we hike with neighbors and friends. Hiking is a main focus of Mineral King; not all cabin communities that I’ve visited have the kind of trails we have. Probably nowhere else has trails like Mineral King!
We talk to people who are wondering about trails, pointing out good places to go. The Park employees are often new and don’t have the depth of knowledge of the area that the locals do.
On Independence Day, we raised a flag together (and I read part of the Declaration of Independence to my hiking friends while at the Wildflower Cafe.) Flying a flag is a tradition when one’s cabin is occupied. There are a couple of cabins that don’t bother, and there are a couple that fly a California flag rather than the Stars and Stripes. (WHY??)
We share dinners, happy hours, extra bacon, kindling, marmot wisdom, and knitting knowledge. (There’s more, but I probably already have over-shared.)
Here is the classic view from the bridge of the Crowley Family cabin and Farewell Gap.
Glad you asked! The junction of the Farewell Gap and Franklin Lake trails is the best wildflower area in all of Mineral King, and its peak is always right around July 4. Well, okay, probably July 1, but July 4 is a significant day, and who actually knows the specific peak from year to year? It is 4 miles to the junction, and we often time the hike to eat lunch there; hence, “Wildflower Cafe”.
I finally remembered a dime, AND I had someone hold it for me so that I had both hands free to wrestle with the phone.
unknownFelwortBlue-eyed grassunknownBaby’s breath
Instead of chitchatting, I will just bombard you with photos.
weird-colored Indian paintbrushFranklin Creek
Photos never do this hike justice. It certainly was a different sort of visit to the junction than last year’s exciting excursion.
I have a wise friend who is both diplomatic and honest. She told me that a few of my paintings didn’t reflect my usual care, or perhaps she said they weren’t up to my usual standards— “lacking in detail and clarity”. (There were a couple of paragraphs so I’m summarizing here.)
I blamed the old scanner, but then decided to retouch the paintings after studying them in person. I can always add more detail to a painting! The difficulty is in knowing when to stop. Most painters say that they don’t stop soon enough; I say most painters need to keep going.
Sawtooth #68
Here are the old scanner and new scanner versions, both before retouching.
The scan was poor, and the painting could use more detail. Some people paint blurry, but I’m not in that club. Not on purpose, anyway.
Here is the do-over and the scan on the new scanner. Still doesn’t look as good as it does in person. You’ll have to trust me on this.
Maybe it’s more evident if I put old and new side-by-side.
The color and detail still aren’t accurate, but it is better.
Sawtooth #69
It was definitely time to replace the old scanner.
Three progress photos for you.
Let’s do a side-by-side before-and-after of this one. And again, the color isn’t coming through very well, so trust on your part is required here.
Thank you, my honest, diplomatic, and wise friend!
Today we will continue and complete our White Chief hike in photos. I always thought it was a short hike, but maybe someone moved White Chief, just like Franklin Falls got moved. My phone, masquerading as a camera, also told me that I went 7.5 miles and climbed the equivalent of 43 floors. Yes, indeed, it is a steep one.
That dark spot is a mining tunnel. There are natural caves up there too.
The clouds were building up back toward Mineral King, and although it was still sunny in White Chief, the wind was downright chilly. So, I headed back.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you a couple of pieces of cabin life.
Trail Guy and our friend K went to White Chief, and came back raving about the flowers. Two days later I went to White Chief and came back raving about the flowers. Our photos are intermingled on my laptop, so I’ll just post some many in today’s post and many more in tomorrow’s, keeping the chitchat minimal.
Super clear day, heading up the right (west) side of the valley.
The ferns along the trail are tall despite only being the end of June.
Spring Creek is running strong—thankful for that footbridge!
thimbleberrycollomiapenstemon
Entering White Chief, like a painting that sold earlier this summer, except the stream is dry now.
Pride of the Mountains was stunning!
The color clash was amusing to me. . . color combinations acceptable in nature would be weird in someone’s wardrobe.
Whorled penstemmon was profuse.
morning glorysulphur flowerunknown
Come back tomorrow for more. The whole thing was stunning, and neither the camera nor the iPhone 14 do it justice.
Walking in Mineral King (Not a hike because we didn’t take packs)
Instead of the now normal down-the-road-and-up-the-Nature-Trail walk, or the wussy turning around at Crystal Creek, we went past Crystal to Franklin Creek.
It was a little bit farther this year. Don’t you just hate that?
Looking backLooking ahead
The flowers were most totally excellent.
This was interesting to your wildflower obsessed Central Calif. artist: a purple bush lupine adjacent* to a seldom-seen pink bush lupine.
This is angelica, not to be confused with cow parsnip. Angelica has lacy leaves, sort of visible at the bottom of this photo.
Here is Franklin Creek/Franklin Falls. This is the stream that rose too high for my hiking pal K and I to cross last year in August. You can read about it here: An Exciting Mineral King Hike
Crossing Crystal Creek is way more my speed than dealing with the deeper, steeper, and faster Franklin Creek.
Oh man! I forgot again to put that dime in my pocket for understanding sizes of little flowers!
The Indian paintbrush were spectacular, particularly interspersed with the grayish green sage.
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This painting is sold, but I can paint it again for you.
*”Adjacent” is “everyone’s” new favorite word. Podcasters and bloggers love to attach it to other words, like this: “This blog about art is Mineral King adjacent”.
