A recent weekend in Mineral King in photos with commentary, as usual, from your Central California artist.
The hazard tree crew returned to our neighborhood.
We had rain, both up and down the hill. It was overcast for a day or so after the rain. I wonder if this would make a good pencil drawing.
The classic view from the bridge, with Farewell Gap obstructed by the clouds.
The sun shone the next day, so Hiking Buddy, K, and I walked to Soda Springs.
Crystal Creek is still running.
See the orange? That’s where Soda Springs runs down into the creek.
It bubbles out of the ground.
Many cabin folks have a tradition of adding lemonade powder to the water, swearing that it is fizzy and delicious. It tastes like metal to me, reminding me of the drinking fountains at church camp as a kid. Ick, no thanks. K is very traditional, complete with a Sierra cup hanging on her daypack.
Here is the classic view in sunshine.
On the drive home, we were amazed by the ENORMOUS pile of road base collecting at Lookout Point for the ongoing road construction project.
Finally, here are The Potholes, still running steady and strong in September. My theory is that all the trees which used to take up water above this stream (called Squirrel Creek) burned up, so there is more water to continue flowing throughout the season.
And thus we conclude another tour of Mineral King. I’ll get back to work next week.
California has 21 missions, built in the 1700s or perhaps some in the 1800s. I don’t remember all the details from 4th grade, but I still love seeing those extremely ancient buildings. I detoured slightly on the way home from Gilroy to visit the mission in San Juan Bautista. It is better cared for than when I drew 30-something years ago. (Can’t find it to show you now. . .)
Across the street was an old building. It looked Victorian, not mission style, and it had a Texas flag. Weird.
California Highway 101 used to be called “El Camino Real”, which means The King’s Highway. All along are these old bells, except now I think the ones which haven’t yet been stolen are reproductions.
I have such a sense of awe, respect, curiosity, and a bit of excitement when I get to be at buildings this old. (Prolly would pass out if I ever made it to Ireland.)
San Juan Bautista is a small agricultural town; I don’t know what is growing in the fields down there.
When walking back to Mom’s Car, I took a picture of this saggy roof. (It reminded me of our cabin.)
Time to go home and get back to work.
P.S. I painted the Carmel Mission last year when at that weeklong painting retreat. It is fancier than San Juan Bautista.
Mrs. Texas and I chose to have a second beach day, this time in Monterey. While there for a weeklong painting retreat last year, I still didn’t have enough time to do all I had hoped. One of those things was to tour the Point Pinos Lighthouse, a place I painted while perched on the hood of my car, Fernando (and then fixed/finished later in the painting workshop and sold.)
It was an overcast day, and we arrived before the lighthouse opened. So, we went to the beach.
Suddenly it was time to go to the lighthouse for a tour.
Excellent tour! So much information, so much to see, such helpful docents. I just couldn’t get enough of walking around, examining the rooms, the artifacts, the displays. This might be a sign of advancing age, sort of like bird-watching, pickleball, eating dinner at 4:30, discussing physical ailments, spending money on nutritional supplements, and watching Jeopardy. (Not that I do any of those things. . .yet, anyway.)
We weren’t allowed to go to the very top where the balcony circles the light. After the tour, I went inside and asked what that gizmo is atop the chimney, a chimney which isn’t connected to a fireplace. It isn’t a giant’s binoculars; it is a chimney cap or spark arrester, placed there when the kitchen was in that room with its woodburning stove, now in another section of the house.
Some people were setting up for a wedding as we were leaving.
The lighthouse was used as a position of defense during WWII, with Coast Guard stationed on the premises in barracks built for the purpose. They patrolled with dogs and horses. Check out this application for a dog to be part of the patrol (oops, it is blurry here):
I could just go on and on about what we learned about the lighthouse, but I think you’d click off this site. So, we went back to the beach, because we didn’t want to get stuck in traffic heading back to Gilroy. (Are we seeing a pattern here? yeppers)
Still overcast, and kind of coldThe beach was littered with jellyfish and various pieces of jellyfish. Gross but fascinating. I watched my steps very carefully, because of course I was barefooted.
Mrs. Texas was in California for another handful of weeks, and I felt compelled to go back to see her one more time. So, I did. (There is a lot to be said about driving a car that isn’t potentially on its last gasp.)
We did a number of wonderful things, and I even did some plein air painting! (See? a business trip!)
Since I have nothing to show you about Mineral King today, I will start with the beach.
The day I arrived, we returned to Rio Del Mar, the beach with that ruined cement party boat which used to be attached to a pier. Mrs. Texas’s mom had told her sister that she remembers dancing on that boat!
There is a weird metal rectangle in the sand.
I think there is a pier in Capitola in the very far distance, but we didn’t go to a beach there. We did go to Capitola to get groceries at Trader Joe’s because it was a good alternative to sitting in traffic on the way home.
The next day we walked by a reservoir named Uvas, which means grapes in Español. (We didn’t see any, in case you are wondering.) My inferior phone camera did a nice job there. Several of these photos could make a nice painting, but I don’t think my tens of readers/followers/collectors are into obscure reservoirs in distant counties (although I would fill the lake to the brim for better aesthetics).
Some of the oak trees had Spanish moss, the slightly creepy hanging grayish green stuff that is prevalent in the southern states.
The plaque at the entrance to the lake walk had a list of names of people who were instrumental in building the dam that created the lake. Although they were just names to me, I’m sure they matter to their descendants. I was more interested in the pertinent facts, which they so thoughtfully included with all those names.
In all honesty (because that is how I roll), I’d rather be at the beach. However, the reservoir was closer, and we had other plans that day. (Not bloggable, just friendship things, errands, blah blah blah. . .)
But I did paint that evening, and I’ll show you in the next post.
Golly tamale, that Central California Artist must have run out of things to write.
Nope. Rarely does that happen.
I drove to Tulare to retrieve my art. It was very serendipitous to pass many vineyards at a time when I need photos of them for the current pencil commission. I like using my own photos, especially when a customer doesn’t have what is needed. It’s better than taking them from The Google (although I use The Duck—AKA Duckduckgo.)
After filling the back of the pick-em-up truck with all the unsold art and securing my spinning card rack in the passenger seat with the seat belt, I headed off to visit a friend in a rehab hospital. On the way, I passed the very fabulous Tulare library, which is not only a county library, but it is administrated through the City of Tulare.
I love our library system—with my card, I can check out books from Manteca in the north all the way to Bakersfield in the south. It is possible that the Three Rivers library is one of the smallest in the system, so while I can order books (but not on their malfunctioning website with my laptop anymore), there is nothing quite as thrilling as seeing a zillion more books all in one building.
Look at the entry to this library:
The floor
The ceiling
After the library, I had a nice visit with my friend, then headed to Visalia because Aldi (a simple grocery store for frugal folks) is sort of on the way home. Then a stop at the Post Office, and finally, almost home.
Always. Mineral King road, Three Rivers, Highway 198 farther down, everywhere. I didn’t mind. The pick-em-up truck is a 5-speed, not an automatic.
Labor Day weekend was a great time to just hang out with neighbors. We had dinners together, hiked together, did projects together, and just enjoyed these multi-generational friendships. Since I try to protect privacy on the World Wide Web, I’ll only show you photos that don’t include people.
Hmmm, a taco truck in the parking lot?
The Park’s stock almost always has one or two head outside the corrals. Since they aren’t worried about it, we don’t worry about it either.
Sunlight through the manzanita along a trail just stopped me in my steps due to the intensity of the greens and the light. It’s always the light.
I’m always thankful for the Spring Creek footbridge and the steady flow of water there. This was the first flowing water I drew in pencil (obviously earlier in the season), and it was so difficult that I titled it “Hard Water”.
Currants are ripe at the end of summer. There are two types: wax currant—no thorns, Trail Guy thinks they taste like cinnamon, and I tried unsuccessfully to turn them into juice for jelly making a few years ago; Sierra currant—thorns, and much stronger flavor with both tartness and sweetness.
Coneflowers bloom toward the end of summer, and there are two places where I count on seeing them. This year was not a disappointment!
If you squint, you can sort of see the remaining snow on Bearskin, the bowl on the right side of Vandever, the peak on the right side of Farewell Gap. I don’t think it will last until the first snow, but most folks in my circle think it will.
It may be a week or two before I make it back up the hill. The road construction schedule is now more disruptive, (schedule available here) and although the cabin isn’t closed, we are entering a season with more interruptions and responsibilities than during summer. Okay, maybe we just ignored some things, and now it is time to face the music. Sigh.
My adventurous and fearless friend K consented to hike with me and Hiking Buddy, even though we are no where near her level of competence on the trails. It had been years since I’d seen Mosquito Lake, and although I doubted my ability to tolerate foot discomfort that distance, we chose to go in that direction.
I divided the walk into segments, figuring that at each step, I could re-evaluate. 1. White Chief junction; 2. Hanging meadow; 3. Sink holes; 4. Eagle/Mosquito junction; 5. JUST GO ALL THE WAY! (Never mind that it was another 1.6 miles from the Eagle junction.)
The trail is steep in places, with roots and rocks, so pay attention to your footing!
This is one of the sink holes, where the water disappears into the ground. K said the hole has gotten deeper through the 60 years she’s been in Mineral King. The bottom doesn’t show here and there is no specific answer as to where that water reemerges, or if it actually does.
It used to cross the trail and go down into a different hole on the other side of the trail. Maybe that logjam ahead redirected the water to the current hole on the left.
This view was the inspiration for my oil painting “Heading to Eagle”. It never photographs well.
You can see that I veered off the photo; the ArtWorld would be proud of my non-dependence on photographs, but it was REALLY DIFFICULT. We often see deer in this area, so I decided that would spice up the painting.
Heading to Eagle, oil on wrapped canvas, 16×20”, $650
The sign is hard to read: Mosquito Lake is 1.6 miles away, and Eagle Lake, the most popular destination, is 1.4 miles. That trail is much harder because of a boulder field; Mosquito climbs quite a bit, and then drops to the lake. “EVERYONE” goes to Eagle; we chose to go to the less popular lake.
First glimpse of the lake through the trees.
There is no camping allowed at the first Mosquito Lake (there are 5 total); however, there doesn’t seem to be any enforcement. There is also no trail to Mosquito #2, just many random and varied trails, with ducks (AKA cairns) all over the place. Couldn’t prove it by me: this was my destination.
Never mind. Let’s look at the lake. The light was poor, and it was a bit smoky due to a wildfire in Kings Canyon.
Hiking Buddy and I turned back to Mineral King (after I put my feet in the water), and K went on to Mosquito #2.
The trail is a bit troughed, probably due to last week’s big storms.
Anyone ready for a snack? Some thoughtful person left these two goldfish on the trail.
Back to Eagle Creek and the sinkhole.
Hiking Buddy noticed this perfect stone in the creek. We wisely decided to just admire it from a distance.
I’m always happy to see Spring Creek bridge on the way back to the cabin. Yeah, smoky or hazy or whatever, but in real life, the green is dominant.
Depending on how one calculates distance or what signs are to be believed, the distance to Mosquito Lake is 3.6 miles, 3.75 miles, or, as most of the locals just say, 4 miles.
My feet hurt, but it was a great day. There were no mosquitos, although Hiking Buddy claims to have killed one when she slapped my arm.
Because we don’t have drawing lessons in July or August, sometimes my students say, “Have a nice vacation!” (One sings to me, “See you, in September. . .”)
“Vacation”? Fall down laughing. This is what I did workwise in July and August:
Framed (or repaired) all the pencil drawings in Around Here (my solo art show in Tulare)
Framed almost all the plein air paintings done on panels
Finished a colored pencil drawing of a stellar jay, because I wanted to try out a new brand of colored pencils.
Went through an old box of photos from an artist friend who assumed room temperature about 10 years ago. They were at the gallery in case my students needed reference material, but no one has looked at them for many years. So, they got redistributed, mostly into the round file.
Finished all the pieces for the 2026 calendar and got it ordered in time to receive a large enough discount that the price doesn’t need to increase over the 2025 calendar.
Got ready for the solo show, including delivering, hanging (I helped the director and her granddaughter), attending the reception, returning to visit the show with a couple of special friends, and finally, returning to retrieve the unsold pieces.
I continued learning to be comfortable driving an automatic. Sort of. I am comfortable with a 6 cylinder engine, the car has a cool built-in spot for sunglasses, a button that opens my gate (but won’t open the garage), and the CD player holds SIX CDs!
2. The library’s card catalog stopped working online after the last “maintenance” session. I spent awhile on the phone with a librarian, who told me how to email the IT department directly. Then he talked me through downloading the library’s app on my phone. Ugh. I don’t want more apps. It is much more convenient to order books on the laptop, but this is better than not being able to order books at all.
3. I visited the Santa Cruz Boardwalk for the first time in my life.
4. I saw my first skate, which I’d never heard of before.
5. I tried to solve Super Sudoku—guess I’m not as analytical as I thought. These things are impossible.
6. The SS Palo Alto was completely new to me—a ship used solely for entertainment, attached to the pier at Rio Del Mar California State Beach—fascinating!
7. I don’t really enjoy playing games, but it was fun with Mrs. Texas and her family. We played two games I’d never heard of before: Code Names, and Shut the Box. (Nope, I don’t want to own either one; don’t put those on a list for me, okay?)
8. How did I not know that Reba McEntire’s entire band died in a plane crash in 1991? I thoroughly enjoy country music, but until Trail Guy and I discovered a new station called The Legend (105.5 in Fresno), I hadn’t listened for a couple of decades, so this tragedy was new information to me.
9. A pattern is emerging that has taken me awhile to become aware of: I love to read books based on island or ocean locales. Most recently finished Alexander McCall Smith’s The Winds from Further West, Elizabeth Strout’s Lucy by the Sea, currently reading The Boy from the Sea by Garrett Carr. Anything based in Ireland—I’m on it!
“Salt and Light” or “Reading Rabbit”, 11×14” oil painting by Jana Botkin
10. In a random conversation with someone, I learned that non-compete contracts are not legal in California because they interfere with people’s ability to earn a living. So you can work for two competing print shops at the same time, or medical clinics, or restaurants, for example. But I still think that you can’t sell a business and then open one just like it across the street! This is what I found online:
California has banned non-compete agreements in employment contracts, making them generally unenforceable. This law, effective from January 1, 2024, requires employers to notify employees that any existing non-compete clauses are void.
By the time you read this post, this will all seem like distant past.
These photos are from the evening of K and my exciting Mineral King hike. I was pretty beat, but stumbled down to the bridge to see the muddy raging stream and to look up at Farewell Gap, with its sprinklings of hail from the day’s storm.
There was still some hail left the next morning, but the stream had subsided and was clear. (No water photos, so you’ll just have to believe me.)
On the way home, there was one of those alert messages on the radio, saying that there were severe thundershowers in Mineral King (along with a number of other places nearby.) The sky was ominous back toward Mineral King.
Even though it was in the 100s at home, I was quite happy to settle into the air conditioned house. I love air conditioning.
Tomorrow we will look at the Learned List for August.
