Before I met him, Trail Guy spent three winters in Mineral King. At this year’s annual Mineral King Preservation Society “Picnic in the Park”, he told his story.
You can listen and watch it on YouTube here: MKPS 2024 Picnic in the Park
This begins a series of posts: Noticing, Neglected, and New. Today’s post is NOTICING.
“Noticing”? Yes. Since my hiking is severely curtailed, I am walking with my eyes peeled for things I may not have noticed before. When hiking, one tends to focus on the next step. When simply walking, there is more of a meandering attitude.
Instead of heading up with neighbors, I drove up. This meant I could stop for photos, and it had been awhile since I photographed the bridge.
I found a new flower, then discovered it is in my now sold-out Wildflowers of Mineral King as an unknown flower at the end of the purples/blues chapter. (The book was published 5 years ago so I am allowed to forget some things.) It took 4 different attempts to get a single photo in focus, because my PHD* camera focuses on whatever it wants to focus on.
*Press Here Dummy
2. What in the world? I’ve never heard of this brand of vehicle. (The name sounds like a made up woman’s moniker.) I got closer to look, and the Farmer said, “Better not touch that—it is about $100,000”. FOR A CAR?? WHAT’S IT MADE OUT OF?? And why in the world would someone bring something that fancy up the exceedingly rough Mineral King Road??
3. Somewhere I heard about the novelist Michelle Huneven and her book called Off Course. I checked it out of the library because the description said it was based in the Sierra. Sure enough it was, and I loved figuring out where the places were (because most of the names were changed except for a few mentions of Visalia, Fresno, or Bakersfield, and one mention of Mineral King.) It was a disheartening story of adultery, and the main theme is that it never turns out well. In spite of being a subject that I usually don’t choose to read about, I thoroughly enjoyed the book, probably because of the familiarity of the location. She does write very well, with completely believable characters. (HOWEVER, she made a mistake when she confused Jeffrey and Ponderosa pine cones.)
4. Did you know that if you use scotch tape on tomatoes, they will last longer out of the fridge? Cover the place where the stem was, and supposedly the tomatoes won’t go bad as quickly. I’ve read that wrapping the stem ends of bananas in saran wrap slows deterioration, so maybe plastic wrap, bags, and tape are magical for produce.
5. Did you know that when someone gets commissioned as an officer in the United States Marines, they can choose the location for the ceremony? I had the privilege of attending such a ceremony for a friend in Exeter, right in front of the B17 mural on the side of the ambulance building, in the parking lot of Monarch Ford. CONGRATULATIONS, AMM!! (and thank you for the invitation)
6. 50% of people who have peripheral neuropathy never learn the cause; the state of “pre-diabetes” can cause it; if you aren’t low in B vitamins, there is no point in taking them to “cure” it; electronic pads, compression socks, red light therapy, herbal cures, acupuncture—don’t waste your money; nerve damage does not heal. (I traveled a long distance to learn all this.)
7. Your Car Says a Lot About Who You Are made me laugh on YouTube. It’s on a channel called Dry Bar Comedy, and it was clean! (Heard about it from Dave Ramsey)
What’s wrong with this picture?
The downhill lane isn’t convincing, the leafy bush/tree over Guardsman #2 is too yellow and looks like a cultivated roundie-moundie, and the growies in that center lane are too mushy.
All better now.
Kaweah Arts in Three Rivers (now located in The Dome) and the store at the Silver City Resort 4 miles below Mineral King have been selling steadily for me so far this summer.
When times are slow, it is easy to start thinking: “I’m a has-been. My prices are too high/too low. I’ve saturated the market. It’s all over. I feel fat—maybe I should start singing.”
When sales are brisk, it is easy to start thinking: “It’s about time. I wonder if I should raise my prices. Finally, I’m starting to figure this thing out.”
The truth is that there are feasts, famines, surges, and ebbs. The economy is up, then the economy is down. (Mostly in Tulare County the economy is “downer” than in the rest of the country.) Sales are seasonal. It’s all part of the business of art.
All I can do is continue to paint the best I know how, and when sales are surging, keep producing for the wonderful stores that sell my work.
P.S. The sizes aren’t shown in relativity to one another. They vary in size from 6×6″ up to 6×18″ and 12×16″.
When it is hot (i.e. “summer”), I prefer to paint in little stages rather than in long sessions. The swamp cooler helps, but it isn’t A/C for sure and for certain.
This might be how it looked last time you saw it. “It” has the working title of “Keep Right”, and I am open to suggestions, because I don’t want to paint the sign that says “Keep Right”, which belongs on the lower left.
I didn’t show the steps between the photo above and the one below. Sometime after I thought it was moving in the right direction, I put another layer of sky over everything in the background. It was a little alarming, and I didn’t take a photo. After it dried, I redid the distant tree trunks, and rebuilt the greens back there. Then I moved to the foreground on the right side.
I was working from a terrible photo that I took through the windshield and then cropped vertically. When I started the painting, I changed my mind and started it as a horizontal painting. This meant that I set aside the printed photo and switched to the terrible one on my laptop. Aha! I see the downhill lane on the left! Now I needed to rearrange things to make sense instead of just slapping lots of greenery on the unknown spaces.
Something might be different in this photo but I can’t quite tell.
I took this last photo when I was tired of being hot.
There is more work to do, but it is beginning to look believable.
It was a smoky several days in Mineral King.
I stopped by a friend’s cabin for a quick visit and was struck by this timeless cabin scene.
The smoke did not prevent or hamper the 39th annual Mineral King Preservation Society’s Picnic in the Park, featuring our own Trail Guy.
He told of his three winters spent in Mineral King in the early 1980s, a story that held people’s attention for an entire hour.
Even little ones didn’t get restless, which is mighty amazing in this age of devices.
This one had a companion with her, besides me, her current MK BFF.
These are some of the very few artifacts remaining from the end of Trail Guy’s third winter (although the photos weren’t in the cabin when it went the way of all flesh.)
When the ordeal of public speaking was behind Trail Guy, we gathered with our neighbors in the evening.
The next day we went for a walk with some of our neighbors, in spite of the smoke.
Trail Guy loves to show people his favorite flower, the tiger lily (more accurately known as a leopard lily because it has spots, not stripes, but we have discussed this previously. . .) How thoughtful of those ranger buttons to disguise the face of his hiking friend.
The flowers were excellent, something I was almost resigned to missing in this hikeless summer. But some of the wildflowers are accessible even if one is only in walking mode.
This is Soda Springs, where water bubbles out of the ground with a hint of carbonation. Some people like to mix it with powdered lemonade, but I’ve never thought that was better than plain water. The water bubbling up tastes metallic. Some of these places are called “iron springs”, some “soda springs”, although I’ve never learned the difference, if there is such a difference.
The air cleared out in the evening when the winds shifted direction.
Thus we conclude another report on a series of days spent in Mineral King. Thanks for tuning in!
Summer lasts a little bit too long for my liking. In early July, I was tired of it. That is an unpopular view, and I accept my status as a weirdo in this regard. However, I soldier onward in the heat, thankful for the inadequate swamp cooler in the painting workshop, and the inadequate wall unit in the studio. When I am finished painting for the day, I stagger into the house and cool off in the most totally excellent central air conditioning.
Sometimes I go walking in the mornings with my good friend. Occasionally we see a garbage bear.
Then I come home and paint.
I added wildflowers to the 8×8″ oil painting of Franklin Falls in Mineral King. They are mountain pride, arnica, and Indian paintbrush. Although they were not in either reference photo, I’ve seen them all at Franklin Falls. Being the boss of my painting, I took artistic license. Here it is, drying on the wood pile stack.
Having finished the smaller paintings destined for the Silver City Store, I returned to building up a body of work for the October-December show at CACHE.
Like most of what I have chosen to paint lately, this isn’t easy. Look at my reference photo, taken from inside the car. Traffic stopped briefly so at least it is focused.
The working title is Keep Right. Although that is very good instruction to drivers heading to Giant Forest in Sequoia as they approach the Four Guardsmen, I am doubting my ability to make the sign look good. Besides, we live in times when people tend to be highly sensitive, spring-loaded in the offended position, so out of deference to those folks, I will think of another title.
Or you can think of another title. . . I’m not easily offended, and love to hear good ideas from my tens of readers, most of whom are friends in real life.
I wasn’t kidding when I said it was hot. Look what happened while I was painting.
Wow. What a sensitive little snowflake. It was only 103° that day.
In my ongoing attempts to understand why my feet are numb, I went to see a Big Deal neurologist. She was informative, thorough, and honest about the fact that 50% of people with peripheral neuropathy never learn the cause or make it go away. Lots of blood was drawn for many tests; more will be revealed in the fullness of time.
The weather was perfect. Everything was beautiful. Everything was expensive.
I mitigated the medical nature of the trip with a little sightseeing to something that I have enjoyed since fourth grade. It took the edge off of the assault of freeways, a city, and all the accompanying stressors.
In fourth grade I built a version of the Santa Barbara mission using milk cartons covered in inside-out paper grocery bags, complete with little bells borrowed from my mom’s Christmas decorations. It was totally boss.
Some of these photos might be fun for my drawing students to work from. They are often on my mind, particularly during our 2 month summer break. And some of these might make nice paintings, but I tend to focus on local subjects, since my customers are primarily local.
I don’t mind. Freeways and cities are for other people. They can stay there, and I will occasionally visit, and probably stop at Trader Joe’s, because we will never get one in Tulare County.
Last year when sales were almost non-existent, I forgot what it is like to arrange a painting schedule around the heat and the limitations of a swamp cooler. Now I remember. Everything has a downside and an upside. Last year up—no painting in the heat. This year up—good sales.
All set up, ready to begin, early in the morning.
I finished the 6×18 bridge and took it out to the woodpile for drying.
Then I got sidetracked polishing the door handle. Good thing I’m not on anyone’s time clock.
Next: Franklin Falls. This is 2 miles up the left/east side of the Mineral King valley, a pleasant walk with only a little bit of uphill, followed by a cold wade across the creek, unless you are inclined to rock hop, which I am not. I have 2 photos, neither of which is ideal, and neither of which is square.
That’s okay. . . I know the place pretty well, and I know what people expect to see.
When something is full of fiddly detail that can’t be exactly duplicated, because of ridiculousness and cramming 2 rectangles into a square, I just find the things that matter most. The rest can be fudged.
If you’ve been to Franklin Falls, I think you’d see that this is becoming recognizable and believable.
In discussing this painting with Hiking Buddy, I told her that it is sort of colorless, all greens and browns and grays. She wisely said (reading my mind), “That’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a few wildflowers”.
Off to the woodpile for drying; the flowers will go on nicely once it is dry. Or not nicely, but if it is dry, I can wipe them off and try again.
