I’ve been gone. These pictures were taken two weeks ago. The snow was still plentiful on Farewell Gap, and the water was high.
Someone left his boots in the parking lot. They were gone the next day. Glad they were retrieved.
The light was very beautiful.
I saw the tiniest wildflowers and it was a reminder to keep a dime in my pocket to photograph these little ones so that you can understand the size (also in case I do a second edition of Mineral King Wildflowers.)
The wildflowers were decent along the Nature Trail, if you kept your eyes open, always a good policy when walking a trail (or a city sidewalk, or a rural road, or your hallway or. . .) These are both violets. (I just work here.)
This is a different sort of currant, but I forget the name.
Forget me nots are the most wonderful blue, a color that is hard to find in domestic flowers.
Mineral King, I won’t forget you. I’ll be back soon!
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.
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.
The tall narrow (12×24”) oil painting of Sawtooth has a deadline. There is a narrow but visible spot in the Silver City Store where I hang a tall narrow Mineral King painting each summer. Last summer I took up a tall and narrow painting of that classic Mineral King view on Memorial Day weekend. Somewhat flippantly I told the manager the price, adding “just on the off chance that it sells”, because usually only the suitcase-sized paintings sell.
It sold that weekend.
So, let’s not shilly-shally, hmmm?
The river and rocks are kind of too small to see in the 4×6” snapshot. I make up a lot of stuff too, which sometimes is easy and other times requires great thought.
“Make stuff up”?? Make up a lot of stuff! The idea is believability.
The great cover-up almost got finished on the day that the above progress was achieved.
Sawtooth #65,24×30”, $2000 (still drying)
I want to mull it over for a while. It is destined for the solo show at the Heritage Gallery in Tulare, the show titled “Around Here. . . and Sometimes a Little Farther”. Unless you want to buy it first.
The store, no, the employees at the Silver City Resort do their best to sell my paintings every summer. Sometimes they are closed due to pandemics, fires, floods, ultra heavy winters, or ruined roads. But we nevah nevah nevah give up.
There are about five Mineral King paintings at the Mural Gallery and Gift Shop in Exeter which I will retrieve today to take up the hill for Memorial Day weekend, which is early this year. Historically Memorial Day was May 31 until most holidays got Mondayized to become 3-day weekends when people would be the least interrupted and have chunks of time to do things that rarely have anything to do with the date which gave the privilege of time off.
I looked over the paintings, evaluating sizes and subjects, and figured out that five more would probably be adequate until August. Meanwhile I need to concentrate on getting a few more large paintings ready for the solo show, also August.
Stop talking, Central California Artist, and show us your paintings!
Sawtooth #63, 8×8″
Sawtooth #64, 8×10″
Honeymoon Cabin #49, 6×12
Mineral King Family Cabin
Mineral King Trail, 8×8″
Every year it is a by-guess-and-by-golly to figure out which subjects in which shapes and sizes to paint. Lots of artists would have just figured out a way to reproduce the paintings as prints, but I want people to own originals. Besides, I don’t want the unsold inventory hanging around.
As my dad used to say, “You pays your money and you takes your choice”. I have no idea where he got that saying. His main piece of business advice was, “You kiss their fanny and you take their money.” He had a lot of sayings, most kind of funny, and all full of wisdom.
After a moment’s thought, I remembered a made-up somewhat embellished view that sold twice last summer as a 6×12”, the same proportions as this 12×24” canvas. I dug out the relevant photos, and flipped the canvas.
Then what happened? So glad you asked! First, upside down so the proportions would be correct and believable. Sometimes I just need that extra method of seeing correctly (another reason against plein air painting for me.)
It was not dry from the previous day’s painting, so it was a little challenging to keep the paintbrushes from digging up yesterday’s wet colors. I didn’t paint the sky first because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the blue pure. It got this far along, and then it needed some drying time. You can see an outline of Sawtooth, so in spite of not wanting to paint that thing again, here it is, because it sells.
It seemed like an easy task to finish the little canvas of the classic view of Mineral King. I barely need photos anymore and have stopped trying to keep track of how many times I’ve painted this scene. I’ve titled the scene “Farewell Gap”, “Classic Mineral King”, “Crowley Cabin”, and “Mineral King Family Cabin”, and probably a few other names too. It’s good to have one handy, but I pick and choose which elements and which colors. Sometimes the tree on the left is tall, sometimes it is gone. Sometimes the stream lines up with Farewell Gap, sometimes not. The water and snow on the peaks also change from painting to painting. Every time I stand on the bridge to view the scene, I am POSITIVE it has NEVER looked so good. So, I take another photo.
Done!
I’m feeling the pressure to complete all the Mineral King paintings because it is time for the Silver City Resort (4 miles below Mineral King) to open for the season.
Shall we call this Paint-gate? I bet people under 50 years of age don’t understand why every political scandal and cover-up has “gate” attached to the end.
This cover-up isn’t scandalous. A friend gave me a 24×30” canvas with an unfinished painting that her daughter did in college. Out of respect for my friend, I haven’t shown you the painting.
It is a dark painting, literally, in terms of colors. I can’t tell if the subject matter is dark, figuratively speaking. It IS weird, one of those nebulous assignments that college art teachers love to hand out, hoping to stimulate creativity.
Sorry Teach, those assignments only incite panic and bizarreness. Why don’t you focus on teaching your students some useful skills? Creativity comes with time and life experience, not with vague, ludicrous prompts like, “Design a container for air” or “depict transparency”. Stop the unhelpful weirdness and just show people HOW TO PAINT.
Ahem. Where were we?
Placement first.
I couldn’t reach the sky and Sawtooth so I flipped the canvas.
I worked forward, and then dropped down to the trail.
Just a little here and a little there while watching the clock because I had to be somewhere. It’s hard to do good work when thinking about time; the part of our brains that recognizes shapes and colors doesn’t know how to tell time. Sounds ridiculous, but I know this because all my drawing students tell me that the one hour that they are drawing is the fastest hour of the week.
The trail looks as if it is made from crushed oyster shells, not something you’d find in Mineral King.
Clearly, this cover-up will be a long project. I’m not used to painting this large. I have to keep squeezing out more paint. Duh. I also have to remember to use the largest brushes possible for each area, because this needs to be finished and dry in time for the solo show in August. Sure, there is time, but the workshop is not a pleasant place to paint when it is hot.
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!
There was an overcast day in Three Rivers this week. Maybe more than one, but we are only concerned with one of them for purposes of this post. We drove up the Mineral King road, as far as the Conifer gate. (That’s the upper gate, which is below Atwell.
Brrr
Good to know that the temporary bridge is still in place. . . hoping it is still there when we drive back down the road.
We broke into the sunshine around mile 4.5-ish.
Hello, Oak Grove Bridge! (mile 6.5-ish)
We were in that muck down there, temperatures in the 50s, and now in the sunshine, it will reach 70.
The Sweet Ranch in the sunshine. I wonder if it is called a “ranch” because of cattle in its history, cattle in its present, or just because what else does one call a spread in the foothills? (My uncle used to call his orange and avocado grove “the ranch”, which I always found peculiar.)
We think that if someone drove to this gate, then all the way back to the Foothills Visitor Center, he would be disappointed and surprised by the complete ignorance about this gate or sign on the part of personnel at the Visitor Center. Just conjecture on our part, but probably true.
Often we are above this stuff in Three Rivers, but not so on Wednesday.
Everyone recognizes Sawtooth. (I’ve painted it at least 60 times, and drawn it in pencil many other unnumbered times.)
Now the gate locks are consistently secured, we got a little sunshine, and you are up-to-date (but only as far as Conifer.)
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.
