These photos are a little over a week old, so the colors are probably better now, unless the rain knocked all the colored leaves off the trees.
Fall Has Begun in Mineral King
Pencil Drawing Commissions
My commissioning customer/old family friend told me in our correspondence that she was interested in a pencil drawing of the gas pump at the Silver City Store. If you have seen it, you might understand. If you haven’t, you might consider this peculiar.
What I consider peculiar is that earlier this summer, while delivering some more oil paintings to this popular place near Mineral King, I was struck by a particular view and angle of the gas pump; I took some photos without having any idea that Ms. Customer would make such a request.
We discussed these photos. I referred to the peak in the distance as Hengst Peak; she told me she grew up calling it Mosquito Peak because it is above Mosquito Lakes. I thought it was over Mineral Lakes, but there is already a Mineral Peak in Mineral King (well, duh). It is the one that looks like Sawtooth’s shadow, but I digress. And I defer to her greater history in Silver City, so for purposes of this discussion, it will be Mosquito Peak. Not that we are talking about the peak–we are talking about the gas pump.
Sorry.
But then she requested a photo showing the road too, so on my next trip up the hill, I took these photos.
More discussion ensued. More clarification. This is normal. . . these things take time to figure out on my end and to decide on the customer’s end.
Finally, it was time to do some little sketches to be sure that I am understanding her wishes.
Good thing she knows that I know how to draw. We’ll see if I caught her vision for the gas pump in pencil. Stay tuned, for as you know, more will be revealed in the fullness of time.
Just heard from Ms. Customer: “Yay! Keep going!”
New Book Coming!
Friday’s post left you with a teaser. . . new book coming!
Wildflowers of Mineral King: Common Names is in progress. This has been a 2 year process of gathering photos and names. I’ve struggled through many boring white flowers and a zillion yellow ones that all look alike. I’ve gone a little nutso over blue flowers and recognized that red ones aren’t very common.
While hiking, I’ve realized that wildflowers are one of the big magnets for me. Sure, scenery is great, exercise can be fun if with friends or on a trail (I’m looking at you, Off Trail Guy) and who wouldn’t want to be outside in Mineral King? But all my choices for hiking destinations seem to be based on where the flowers are.
With a stack of about 6 wildflower books, I’ve been able to find common names for most of the wildflowers in Mineral King. Why does it take that many? Why isn’t there a wildflower book for Mineral King?
“If it is to be, it’s up to me” – I don’t know who said that, but it seems to apply here.
The book will have photos taken mostly by Off Trail Guy and me; the cover will be a fabulous photo from a fabulous photographer, one of my treasured hiking friends whose phone takes better pictures than my little Elph camera. It also might have something to do with her superior photography skills. . .
There is still a pile of work ahead on the book – more writing, editing, proofing, trying harder to find names for those unknown whites and yellows, and finally, figuring how and where to get it printed. Add into that mix the difficulties of working with Adobe InDesign on an old laptop, and there are probably 2 months between now and actual publication.
Here is a peek at an early draft of a two-page spread:
Obviously there is some editing necessary. Obviously it is not a scientific botanical manual. Obviously.
I hope this is a helpful and fun book for people who hike in Mineral King and love wildflowers, with inquiring minds that just need to know.
Random Round-up Including Mineral King History
Today is a round-up of several topics, including Mineral King.
The 2019 calendars are selling steadily – $15 includes sales tax, and I am willing to eat the mailing costs, yum yum. (The Three Rivers Post Office is actually a pleasure to visit.) Yes, that is Sawtooth Peak on the cover, one of the most prominent landscape features in Mineral King. (“Features”, as if it is landscaped? Good grief.)
Ever try to type on a laptop with two purring teenage cats on your lap at the same time? Tucker kept a paw and his chin on the keyboard area, while Scout kept climbing around and slobbering a little. Not a very productive time, but it is a pleasure to have kitties around (except for the slobber part).
A friend wanted to ride her new Harley to Mineral King. She has good sense, and instead, chose to ride it to the Mineral King mural in Exeter.
Louise Jackson gave a talk at the Three Rivers library about why the Disney plan for a ski area in Mineral King failed and how it tied into the larger world. It didn’t fail for one reason but for a combination of reasons:
- Roy Disney, Walt’s brother, was the one who ran the business behind the scenes. He kept saying, “We are in the entertainment business, not the recreation business”. When Walt died at age 65 in 1966, some of the fire for the ski area died down. Walt was a skier; perhaps Roy wasn’t. . .
- The environmental movement was growing during that time; conservation and preservation became more important than development.
- The avalanches were a real problem, and when the big one happened in 1969 that took out cabins, killed a Disney guy and proved that managing the snow was potentially a huge problem, more of the wind went out of their sails.
- The road was too expensive to fix. The road was terrible. Still is. We don’t mind. 😎
The avalanche of 1969 crushed the store and rental cabins; Disney sent people in to burn all the rubble. The only little cabin that survived was the Honeymoon Cabin, also known as the Point Cabin.
And finally, I have been working on a new book! Nope, I’ll tell you about it next week. . . see you on Monday!
Cabin Thoughts, Part 3
Mineral King cabin folks come from cities, suburbs, small towns and out in the country; we live in mansions, estates, apartments, and even a few normal houses. We are artists, bankers, equipment operators, janitors, teachers, farmers, administrative assistants, engineers, retirees, dental hygienists, sheriffs, lawyers, doctors, day care workers, musicians, optometrists, veterinary assistants, physical therapists, moms, Park employees, physician’s assistants, and those are just the first ones that come to mind. We come from California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Virginia, New York, Hawaii, Florida, South Dakota, and Egypt. (Probably more places that I can’t remember. . .)
Our Mineral King cabins, AKA “small, poorly constructed huts in the woods”, are great equalizers.
Every one of us, regardless of our backgrounds, livelihoods, economic, educational or political status, is thrilled to have a small, poorly constructed hut in the woods. Every cabin has a barely adequate kitchen, a laughably tiny (or no) bathroom, maybe one or two or even no bedrooms. Every single cabin user has to figure out how to deal with unreliable water, peculiar propane appliances, old stuff that may or may not work, and the definite lack of a maintenance department, hardware or grocery store. There is a terrible road to get there, rodents, spiders and other wildlife that may or may not be appreciated, and all sorts of unexpected situations. (Who left this chair and what happened to my flashlight?? Who forgot the tonic water? Does anyone have any birthday candles? What do you mean Skin-So-Soft isn’t mosquito repellent? Are you kidding that I can’t blow-dry my hair?)
Every single cabin that is owned by multiple families has its conflicts, whether decorating, cleaning, maintaining, or scheduling. The cabins without partnerships have to bear the expenses, decisions, maintenance and cleaning without benefit of sharing the load.
Those who have complicated lives in fancy places might view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a bit of an inconvenience, but a treasured shabby shack in the mountains.
Those who have simpler lives in simpler places might also view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a huge treat, a treasured place of one’s own in the mountains.
In my 32 38 years of cabin ownership, I’ve observed cabin folks’ conversation topics go from “How can we save these cabins” to “How have you been?” We have fought together, helped one another, hiked together, learned one another’s family trees, and through it all we have built friendships weekend upon weekend, year after year after decade after decade. And I am just a newcomer. . .
A small, poorly-constructed, primitive, one-story hut in the woods where everyday life is distant and we gather to laugh with family and play board games while a fire keeps us warm. (If you have a giant log mansion on a lake somewhere, then you will have to edit this description to fit your idea of what constitutes “cabin”.)
Cabin Thoughts, Part 2
I looked up “cabin” on my Mac. The dictionary on my computer has fairly useless definitions as far as our discussion is concerned.
Cabin may refer to:
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Beach cabin, a small wooden hut on a beach
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Log cabin, a house built from logs
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Cottage, a small house
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Chalet, a wooden mountain house with a sloping roof
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Small, remote, mansion (Western Canada)
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Small, free-standing structures that serve as individual lodging spaces of a motel
Forget that. Where’s my real Webster’s dictionary?? Mine was published in 2004 rather than 1935. Oh good grief, look at this:
A small, simple, one-story house.
A few folks checked in with their thoughts on what a cabin is. One suggested “primitive”; another said a place to get away from every day life; a third (and someone else I talked to in person) suggests that a cabin is a state of mind, “non-fancy” is a good description, and someone else added in a description of an ideal cabin. She used the word “spare”, which could mean an extra home or it could mean without clutter. (I’ve seen some pretty cluttered cabins, and I have lived in a cabin when it was my only place of residence.)
Come back tomorrow for more thoughts on cabins and cabin life; clearly, there is no clear definition of cabin, but there are many ideas about it. Clearly.
Cabin Thoughts
In 1986 I married into a Mineral King cabin. I’d always wanted either a cabin or a beach house. Here in Tulare County, cabins are more available and accessible than beach houses. It has worked out well, even to the point that my art business is called Cabin Art. (Or Cabinart. . . for a Typo-Psycho, I am awfully ambivalent about the spelling of this invented word.)
But what exactly is a cabin? A dear old friend and I began discussing this, and I was surprised that I am unable to define the word. Some cabin neighbors along with Off Trail Guy and I had a discussion about the definition of “cabin”, and the word “woods” came up several times in both discussions.
My hiking buddy suggested I try Webster. I was so caught off guard that I said something truly clueless: “What is that? Some internet thing?” We all got a big laugh when I realized she meant Noah Webster and the Merriam-Webster dictionary, not some World Wide Web gizmo.
We had an old dictionary at the cabin, so I looked up “cabin”. The 3rd definition said, “A small, rude hut”.
Clearly the word “rude” has changed in meaning since the dictionary was published in 1935. I looked up “rude” and saw “Poorly constructed”.
Alrighty, then. A cabin is a small, poorly constructed hut.
My Very Wise Dad always told us it is better to laugh than to cry. I might even fall down laughing at this definition, especially when folks mention their Shaver Lake or Tahoe cabins.
Let’s talk more about this tomorrow.
How do you define “cabin”? (Don’t spoil things by looking it up first – just speak from your gut or your heart.)
Mineral King on Friday
Shall we conclude the tale of our White Chief hike?
Trail Guy thought it would be fun to go down on the other side of the canyon rather than follow the trail. I will now begin referring to him as Off Trail Guy. It was really hard. My hiking buddy and I got giddy silly, and I fell down laughing. Actually I fell because it is tricky to pick a route and pick footing, especially when there are long grasses covering the rocks. Off Trail Guy and my hiking buddy managed to remain vertical; my buddy’s husband fell once. He probably wasn’t laughing. If my buddy wasn’t with me, I might have been scared. She is very brave. We stopped several times to take cool pictures (and to regroup and perhaps to cuss Off Trail Guy).
Holy guacamole, it was a 9+ mile day, much of it off trail. My hiking buddy and I came up with a rating system, 1 being on a flat trail or maybe even a sidewalk, and 10 being not speaking to our husbands for a week. Off Trail Guy GUARANTEED this was a 5; it was 8.5. Hmmm. . .
We learned that Off Trail Guy rates trails differently than we do. We learned that we can laugh our way through difficulties. We learned another way to not come home from White Chief. And we learned that we have a strong friendship, not bruised by difficult routes.
Mineral King on Thursday?
. . . the saga of a busy Labor Day weekend continues. “Saga” may be an overblown word, but it is fun to use.
There are never enough hiking days, nor is there enough desire to get my hiney moving every time I go up the hill. I feel the calendar shrinking, and decided it was time to fulfill my desire to see the upper part of White Chief this year. There were 4 of us on the hike; one had a bowl of Cheerios, another had a bowl of Crankios, 2 of us had normal food, and we set off.
Within the first mile, we encountered these energetic folks from Ukraine, now Los Angeles. They did Great Big Hikes THREE DAYS IN A ROW! That included climbing Mineral Peak. . . very impressive. They also taught us that our name, Botkin, is famous in Ukraine because jaundice is called “Botkin’s Disease”. Nice, eh?
To be continued tomorrow. . .
Tough Decision, Part Two
There are many seasoned artists who freely share their experience with other artists. One of the nuggets I’ve gleaned through the years is “Get rid of your junk”. There is no reason to keep things around that do not sell or do not represent your best work.
The Cabins of Mineral King represented my best work in 1998. I draw better now, which is good; I would better have improved over the last 20 years or that would be a sorry situation. (That was an awkward sentence – anyone know a good editor?)
Still, the unsold drawings haunt me, take up space and just need to go away, either through a sale or through a shredder.
Before they go into the shredder, here is a chance for you to own an original pencil drawing for a peanut butter sandwich, as my dad used to say. I will consider offers, as long as they are not insulting.
One month from today, October 7, is the deadline on this batch of drawings.
