Mineral King is Open

And the summer begins …

I didn’t take any of these pictures, which were all taken before I went up the hill, because living in two places comes soon enough without pushing it. Our cabin is a summer dwelling, for good reasons.

Hence, the Early Bird, AKA Trail Guy, took these photos. (You can tell because his camera makes sky spots).

Opening the cabin is a big project, because Trail Guy and the Farmer open several people’s cabins, which requires many tools. The projects abound, the work never ceases, and yet wild horses cannot restrain these two good-hearted, hard-working gentlemen from serving the neighborhood.

Phlox

Two hardy souls marched (or perhaps simply staggered) up to Eagle Lake, BEFORE the Spring Creek Bridge was installed. One of the two generously shared her photos (and reported back that it was COLD.)

Looking down toward the dam that forms Eagle Lake.
Looking upstream toward the ridge that forms the other side of Eagle Lake.

Since this is supposed to be a marketing and advertising “platform” (these words… sigh … what am I supposed to call this? A venue? An avenue? Media?), have another look at my painting of Eagle Lake from a similar viewpoint (I think I was on the dam itself.)

Eagle Lake, 7×14”, oil on wrapped canvas, $200, at the Silver City Store so let me know if you want to buy it and I’ll retrieve it for you next weekend.

Ad over. Remember the fallen on this weekend because it isn’t supposed to be about getting away and fishing and hiking and boating and BBQing. However, because of the brave, we are free to do these things.

Admonition over.

Endeavor to persevere.

And remember, if you comment and it doesn’t appear, your comment will appear after I have returned from the Land of No Electricity or Internet or Phones to release it.

Moving Forward on the Two New Paintings

Eagle Lake

Such an ugly start.

Let’s git ‘er dun!

Eagle Lake (a painting formerly known as a dog’s breakfast), 7×14”, oil on wrapped canvas, $200, currently drying, destined for the Silver City Store, unless it sells first from this little spot on the interwebs.

Oak Grove Bridge

The Oak Grove Bridge is a bit more challenging. I started with the attitude of “close enough” and as usual when drawing or painting architectural subjects, I ended up measuring and redoing several things.

The width of each arch needed to be the same, and the top of the bridge was too thick.

So I measured, redrew the arches (yes, with my paintbrush—anyone here have a problem with that?), lowered the top of the bridge, and then planted some manzanita on the lower left. I also started locating various rocks.

You’d think that after painting this forty-eleven* times, I’d have all the rocks and the arch proportions memorized. You’d be wrong in that thinking. I could make it up, but I’d also be wrong.

Such a grand little bridge for our slightly down-at-the-heels Tulare County. There are plans to turn it into a pedestrian-only bridge with a stout replacement safe for driving upstream of this classic one. The county had to do the eminent domain thing to acquire the land, and I have a feeling this will be a long, disruptive, and messy construction project.

Change can be so difficult.

Thus, for now we must enjoy the bridge as it was and as it is, and not think about as it shall be.

*This is actually #38, if I kept count correctly, which is doubtful.

A Week of Mineral King, Chapter 5: Eagle Lake

Yesterday we stopped at the Eagle Lake dam, a steep hike on a tough trail out of Mineral King. 

Wait—isn’t there supposed to be a lake? Isn’t that the purpose of the dam? 

Well, oops. The dam either didn’t get closed last fall or it got opened too soon this summer. Looks more like Eagle Pond.

However, these gentlemen caught quite a few fish (catch and release, using a spinner).

Little Sis replaced her cat ears with a Kevin jacket (ever seen “Up”?). We watched the raindrops on the pond while discussing circles, ripples, and shiny places.

The Farmer found a checkerboard as he explored the edges of the pond, formerly known as Eagle Lake. My guess is that some youngsters’ phone batteries died so some oldsters showed them this primitive, non-tech game.

The exposed rocks in the lake are bizarrely geometrical.

This is the “normal” view of the lake, looking back toward Mineral King.

And this is looking toward the upper end of the lake. 

I’ve painted it from a similar angle.

Enough recreation and lollygagging. Time to make like a cowpie and hit the trail.

The Farmer found this rock, and we all thought it would make a great paving stone but had the good sense to leave it as a concept rather than a reality. It is a weird geologic formation, not someone’s early attempt at mosaic.

Does this look like a trail to you?? I turned back toward Eagle Lake to take this photo, because even though I’ve hiked it many times, it still astonishes me.

Finally found some flowers. These are Pride of the Mountains. Sawtooth is in the distance, with its “shadow”, Mineral Peak just to the right.

Well, yea. A little bit of good trail bed.

Haha. Fooled you. Climb over these rocks, you mountain goat.

After the rocks, I stopped taking photos with the exception of two more of the scene that I have been struggling to paint for 2-3 years now. (Not gonna show you that sorry mess today.)

With 2 miles left to go, Little Sis ran out of gas. She asked for breaks about every 20 yards. That is the slowest mile I have ever walked on a trail, and we were quite relieved that her pa was waiting at the White Chief junction. They did a pack shuffle, and she rode the last mile on her pa’s shoulders. I chased Big Bro for awhile at a rapid pace, marveling that the child never ran out of steam, never slowed, never complained.

Those are two amazing children who accomplished a huge journey on foot.

Tomorrow, we will return to White Chief, our favorite destination.

Comparing a Painting to a Hike

Eagle Lake is probably the most popular destination in Mineral King. It is about 3.5 miles (feels like 5), and the last 1/2 mile or so is on a terrible trail. The lake has a dam built by the Mt. Whitney Power Co. in the early 1900s (1909? 1911? I’m just guessing, because it is hard enough to remember the relevant dates in my own life.) And it is a beautiful place.

Last year I painted it twice. One was for my niece and newly acquired nephew as a wedding gift; one was to sell. My niece asked if I just pulled theirs off my wall or if I painted it specifically for them. My answer was that I painted it specifically for them, but that I had tried to sell it first. (My family likes honesty.)

Eagle Lake, 11×14″, private collection. This is looking up from the dam.
Eagle Lake, 6×18″, sold. This one is obviously looking the other direction, down at the dam.

That 6×18″ shape is very appealing to me for some reason. So, here it is again, but this time I am working from two photos: one for the mountain ridge, and the other for the lake. All of it is squashed or stretched to make it fit, with the goal of keeping it believable.

I think I am developing more confidence in painting my chosen subject matter of various Mineral King scenes. It is about time, since I have been painting almost 13 years.

This is the optimistic beginning stage, sort of like when one first hits the trail to Eagle Lake.
The “oh-no what was I thinking stage”. Its equivalent is when you have gotten across Spring Creek and begin climbing and realize you have a very long steep walk ahead. (Or a hike if you are carrying food and/or water.)
Head down, thinking about the distance to go, knowing it is hard, but pushing on anyway.
Stopping to look at the map, which in this case of painting are the 2 reference photos.
Going a bit further and feeling as if you have gained nothing is a common feeling on a long painting or a long trail. (This really is a different photo than the previous one, but you’ll have to shift into your Where’s Waldo mode to see the differences.)
This stage of the painting is like being below the lake, when you know it isn’t far, that you will make it, and it will be worth the effort.

I wonder where I am getting these metaphor type ideas for blog posts. It’s kind of fun, a new way of thinking and writing.

Today my dad would have been 87 if he had not gotten that dang brain tumor and died a few days before his 67th birthday. I bet he would have thoroughly enjoyed the internet, including my blog.