Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 6

After wondering all weekend if we would be evacuated from Mineral King, a Park employee came by our cabins on Monday morning around 8, telling us to be at the Conifer gate (7.5 miles below our cabins) to be escorted out. If we didn’t want to go, that was fine, but then we’d be unable to leave for 48 to 72 hours. (They couldn’t make us go but they would be able to make us stay. . .?)

There were about 10 cars, including Park personnel, with someone at the front of the line and someone at the rear.

There was a meeting of the Silver City Mayor and the Mineral King Mayor, as they discussed and examined the locks on the Conifer Gate.

We headed down into thickening smoke. . .

. . . and were stopped at Wolverton Point. Another caravan was heading up the hill.

Lookout Point is a gathering place for vehicles. Initially it was built to look out for fires; now it is a place to look out at fires.

The mayors convened at the lower gate for another session of locks, while a Park person oversaw their negotiations.

It was a long weird smoky drive down. The good part is that we never had to wonder if we would encounter any vehicles coming up the road.

Tomorrow (yes, Sunday, I know. . .) I will share some photos of Mineral King, taken by Trail Guy to contrast the smoke with the clarity of the mornings.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 5

Our weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King began each day with clear skies, and hope that the clarity would remain for as long as possible.

We headed down the road for a walk one morning, not quite as early as hoped, and were also delayed by conversation with fellow cabin folks. Everyone was in that state of uncertainty, so there was much shared speculation, along with passing on whatever information we had gathered from various sources.

Oh boy, here comes the smoke.

Looks like a great year for currants, but I won’t be bothering with them this year (or ever again —view item 8 in the linked post for why not.)

I wonder if this cabin will get repaired before the road closes, or before winter sets in.

We crossed the bridge into Cold Springs Campground, doing a bit of horticultural investigating (NOT recreating).

I can’t remember what these berries are and my books are already packed up due to uncertainty.
What is that weird fuzzy stuff?

I wonder if this is the same group of aspens that I photograph over and over.

This is definitely the same section of stream, named Iron Springs by my most faithful blog reader and commentator.

There is a hint of fall coming.

I am NOT recreating—I am REPORTING!! (Oops, where is my press pass??)

The next day—not evacuated, but escorted out, with the option to “shelter in place” for 48-72 hours. This was explained in Monday’s post but will be continued tomorrow (yes, I will post on Saturday —not certain whether to apologize or say “you’re welcome”).

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 4

What does one do in Mineral King when it is too smoky out for any real exertion or appreciation of the scenery?

Sometimes one sits inside with a friend and draws.

Sometimes one does chores, anticipating an early closing due to uncertainty.

That uncertainty chased us all weekend along. We contacted cabin neighbors who were not present to ask if they’d like their cabins drained so at least the pipes wouldn’t freeze. We had no way of knowing if the road would be closed or when we might be suddenly evacuated due to the Coffeepot Fire.

This isn’t too bad, smoke-wise. The intensity of it changed throughout the day and from day to day.

The fire isn’t threatening Mineral King, but if it crossed the East Fork of the Kaweah and started climbing toward the road, there would be too much equipment to allow civilian traffic.

I did some noticing of details, while just hanging around.

There was a short walk to inspect a footbridge that got replaced. Seems that the Park has been attending to some of its neglected maintenance chores.

Ooh, a hint of fall

The little cowgirl insisted on visiting the mules again. This was not recreational, of course.

She was a little braver this time.

Thus, we ended another day on a weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 3

After a harrowing intense drive, an hour longer than normal, we made it to Mineral King. It was smoky when we arrived, not worth any photos.

We gathered with neighbors in the early evening to share snacks, stories, and speculations on what the uncertain weekend might hold for us.

One member of our little group was more tickled by her sparkly cowgirl boots than interested in adult conversation.

The next morning, she requested that someone accompany her to the pack station so she could greet the mules, and perhaps even feed them a few carrots, pilfered from the previous evening’s snack trays. We were all early risers, because that is when the air was cleared out from the night’s down-canyon breezes.

Trail Guy willingly postponed breakfast to accompany our little friend.

There was a brief stop to admire the grouse.

Trail Guy ended up doing the carrot-feeding, since the little cowgirl was a bit intimidated by the eagerness of the stock.

They returned to the cabins so that Trail Guy could have his postponed breakfast, but Hiking Buddy and I headed toward Franklin Falls. We were NOT recreating—it was strictly for health purposes. I was testing my numb feet to see if they could carry me 4 miles on a trail. And it was ENTIRELY NECESSARY to scrub out our lungs with some clean air.

Made it 2 miles; could I make it back? Let’s not worry about that just yet.

Wait! What is this?? It’s Dylan on Emmy, leading his string out of the backcountry after resupplying a trail crew.

In case you didn’t know, if you encounter stock while on a trail, move BELOW them off the trail.

We crossed Crystal Creek on the way back to the cabins, and this time I just walked straight through. We knew time was of the essence, because the smoke was working its way back up into the Mineral King valley.

One last look at the beautiful Emmy at the pack station, with the faithful plainer-looking but still handsome Chuck behind.

We had a smoky afternoon and evening to get through. I’ll tell and show you more tomorrow as we continue our tale of an uncertain weekend in Mineral King.

Mineral King: Weekend of Uncertainty, Chapter 2

My regular posts are postponed while I tell you of our weekend of uncertainty in Mineral King.

I went up the hill with a friend/cabin neighbor on Friday morning. She picked me up at 10:30, and we did not arrive at our cabins until 1 p.m. I used the word “harrowing” to describe the drive, and while Trail Guy wasn’t there, he said the word was too strong. So, I pulled it back to “intense”.

For the first 6.5 miles, we encountered many large trucks heading down, since we timed our drive poorly and coincided with the shift change. There was a great deal of backing up and waiting in turnouts and vaguely wide spots.

We had to give our names and cabin #s at Lookout Point to be checked off a list of folks going to close their cabins. We were told that the Mineral King trails were closed to recreating, and sent a few hundred yards ahead to wait for the signal to proceed.

When we were released, we encountered crew after crew brushing along the road and over the bank. There were big pick-ups, trucks, and really big trucks along the road and in the road, so we crept along in between and around. I didn’t take many photos of people as we passed because it felt rude. I missed one great shot of a crew all lying on the road and the bank during a break, but it is seared in my memory.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here are several thousand words worth of the drive up.

looking back down
This is looking back down the road behind us.

It was smoky in Mineral King, but we were greatly relieved to have arrived in a place of peace.

Tomorrow I will tell you more about our weekend of uncertainty.

Clear Morning in Smoky Mineral King

The Coffeepot Fire started on August 3, from lightning about 15 miles down the road from Mineral King. Each evening, the down-canyon breezes start clearing smoke out of the valley. The next morning we get clear air until 9 or 10. I went for a walk on one of those mornings.

It was a difficult time for good photos with a PHD* camera, but I want you to appreciate the clarity.

It was kind of chilly out (high 40s?) so I headed to the steep and sunny Timber Gap trail. Those giraffe steps are always good exercise.

Oh-oh. Here it comes.

*Press Here Dummy

Packing in Mineral King

About 20 years ago or so, the private pack station in Mineral King closed. The Park built a corral and their own tack shed. They usually bring up stock so they can resupply the trail crews in the backcountry, but this year we hadn’t seen any evidence of Park stock.

Last year the Park brought their stock up in spite of the Mineral King closure, just to get the creatures out of the heat. It gave me an opportunity to find a couple of great subjects to draw.

This year we saw stock at the pack station that was definitely not Park animals. (Yep, we knew it wasn’t Park stock even in low light at this distance.)

The next morning we were delayed leaving on a walk for various reasons, and then were glad because we encountered the packers, Che (from Montana) and Dylan (from Wisconsin), two best friends who work for a private pack station on the East side. (That’s how we refer to the other side of the Sierra.)

Trail Guy explained a few things to the men.

Che rode this horse; Dylan rode a striking paint called Emmy. I didn’t get a good photo of her.

We walked ahead, and then saw them coming in the distance.

We stopped in the shade, waiting for the perfect photo when they emerged from the trees.

I thought that would be more impressive than it actually was.

So, I went crazy snapping pictures.

We followed them to Crystal Creek. That’s the best shot I got of the beautiful paint horse, Emmy.

Each packer led a string of five mules. They even look picturesque from the back (but I won’t be drawing or painting any mule heinies.)

You can lead mules to water but you can’t keep them from drinking.

Bye-bye, pack animals!

Working Weekend in Mineral King

Gathering ambition on the deck in the morning.

A week or so ago, I told you about areas of neglect in Mineral King. Our cabin is not one of them, because it is our responsibility, not the Park’s*. It takes continual maintenance to keep a 100+ year old rustic structure together, and although we enjoy plenty of leisure time up the hill, there is persistent work to be done.

Our cabin is not painted, except for the window trim, which could use refreshing. (Next year. I’m busy with other things this year.) Instead of paint, the wood gets oiled every few years. Every ten years? I’m not keeping track; that’s men’s work at our address. I’m just there to stand on the bottom rung of the ladder to keep it from teeter-tottering or sliding away, along with fetching and carrying requested tools.

“We” did prep work, loosening the dirt, blowing it off, and then picking dirt out of the cracks on the decks using a tool that a friend made for us. (Sorry Dr. Baltimore, no photo, but much gratitude).

Then we discovered that some critter was able to access a cupboard in the kitchen that we had previously thought to be critter-proof. I’ll spare you the details, but show you how “we” stuff steel wool in the access points. (Or maybe I’ll just show you a scratched-up water bottle and a DeWalt flashlight.)

My favorite type of work is ongoing, rather than maintenance. I love to swing an axe and am responsible for splitting all the firewood needed for the cook stove. Trail Guy makes it easy for me by cutting it to the right lengths and selecting wood that is fairly knot-free.

Our stack was maxed out, so I took my best axe to a neighbor’s cabin to try my hand (my arms?) at white fir. The pieces were longer than I am used to, there were lots of knots, and the bark needed to be peeled. I worked my way through about 1/2 dozen chunks, and went away satisfied that I can split wood even if Trail Guy hasn’t paved the way for me.

Another neighbor has a brand new door, one that will stay closed without being propped by a rock. I won’t be painting this door but wanted you to admire it with me. I always think it is a shame to cover bare wood with paint, although the results are usually impressive.

We concluded our work day with a brief evening walk in the smoke.

*I recently heard that Sequoia National Park is operating with about 60% of the number of employees needed to keep things running well. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??

Meandering in Mineral King

Ugh, smoke.

A hint of the coming fall.

Ugh, smoke.

Sierra Gentian just don’t photograph worth a hoot, but they are truly striking, and always appear at a spring between the pack station and Crystal Creek in August.

Trail Guy pointed out the marmot sunning on the rock. I asked him how he knew that it was alive, so he tossed a rock, and the marmot raised his head.

Ugh, smoke.

Fire Thoughts

Almost 3 weeks ago, there was a thunder and lightning storm in Mineral King. A lightning strike started a fire, and it looked as if it would be quick to suppress the thing.

Looking out from Look Out point, 2 days after the lightning strike.

Being somewhat cynical, perhaps because we’ve lived through the “easy to suppress” lightning strikes in 2020 and 2021, I had my doubts that the various agencies would be in agreement and just squash that thing.

While driving home from Salem one week later, I received texts from friends in both Visalia and Exeter, inquiring about my safety because they could see flames from their towns. WHAT??

Trail Guy took this photo on the day I received those texts. That single column had babies.

One friend sent me a photo her Facebook feed (“feed”? “stream”? “account”?) showing 2 areas of flame at night as seen from either Exeter or Visalia. (There is something about a photo from that platform that forbids my saving and showing it to you.)

On our next trip up the hill a few days later, it looked like this:

Each day in Mineral King began with clear air, and then somewhere around 9 or 10 a.m., the smoke would drift up the canyon and obscure all our views. Where is Farewell Gap?

On the way down the hill on Monday, this is what we saw:

We also saw BLM equipment, a Forest Service car, 2 Yosemite fire people, and a helicopter dipping water out of the East Fork.

The latest report at the time of this viewing is that the fire has grown to 850-900 acres, is not contained (well, duh, because what does “containment” mean when it was “contained” before it erupted into this conflagration?) and is heading toward the South Fork drainage in Three Rivers.

Here we go again. . . sigh.

P.S. For current info on the Coffeepot Fire, go to WatchDuty.org.