Fall is supposed to be a relief from the heat. Last week we hit the 90s, AGAIN. Although my mind has the facts of seasonal changes, doubt holds me hostage.
So, I was seeking signs of fall, anything for encouragement that summer wouldn’t last forever.
Pumpkin spice something, anyone?
2. . . . the murals at the giant Catholic church in Visalia? After 13 months of much wrangling, negotiating, emails, phone calls, designs, rewriting of proposals, and rebidding, I withdrew my proposals. They’ll have to find someone else for this. (I’d show you my designs, but I don’t want anyone to kipe them.)
3. . . . the mural for a county library, mentioned back in August of 2022? Nothing. It was promised to me, then silence. A call to artists went out, I submitted my designs (because it expanded from one wall to two walls), then silence. The deadline for a decision passed (May 31), and the silence continues.
4. . . .my overgrown unmowed lawn? After the 5th summer of not mowing, hand trimming, transplanting, and fertilizing, it is looking quite nice. Now that it is mowed, I can see the gaps, and next year I will continue to transplant clumps as I find them at the back of the house where there used to be lawn.
5. . . . my gardening efforts once I started using an expensive humus, Deer Out, and milorganite fertilizer? Things look moderately better, although not magnificent. (Let’s remain in Realville, people!) This is the herb garden, fenced against deer, many plants with underground baskets against gophers, very poor soil, direct hot sun in summer, and zero sun in winter.
Any questions?
“. . .Will you still need me, Will you still read me, When I’m sixty-four?”
Because I am now.
Neither Trail Guy nor I had been to the main part of Sequoia National Park since before the fires (2020, 2021) and flood (2022-2023).
I love to climb Moro Rock, so that is how I chose to spend my birthday. The burned parts of the Park looked terrible, but the road is great and the unburned parts are beautiful too.
Enough yammering. Here are some photos.
Crescent Meadow was our next destination.
The road there passes the Parker Group, which is a great source of sequoias to paint, along with Tunnel Log, which I’ve also painted several times.
The day was an experience in nostalgia. Trail Guy used to be Road Guy, with 37 years of working for Sequoia. Things now look different, because things are done differently than when he retired 11 years ago. Some are an improvement, and some in the category of Are You Kidding??
It was also a day of comparison. Seemed like Moro Rock’s steps were a bit steeper than remembered, and the handrail seemed a bit lower. The Generals Highway was infinitely better than the Mineral King road. The trails were mostly paved and certainly much flatter than in Mineral King. We talked to someone from Germany, someone from Ecuador, and heard many languages that we could not identify. There were lots of people, particularly for a midweek day, AFTER Labor Day.
What a great way to spend a birthday! And, although I wasn’t driving Fernando, it was a business trip because I got a few more photos for painting from.
In conclusion, “Will you still need me, will you still read me, when I’m sixty-four?”
Because I am now. (But not losing my hair—growing it, actually, to save in case I do lose it!)
It is normal for us to close our cabin in mid-October. We closed a little earlier this year due to impending road construction.
There was a weird phenomena along the road: white stuff that looked like thick spider web material was stuck in grasses and shrubs almost all the way to Conifer, the upper gate. It felt sticky to Trail Guy; it felt like unnatural fiber such as acrylic or nylon to me, the way it stuck to my hangnails. My camera stopped working on the close-up setting, so it is a little hard to see what this stuff looked like.
There were definite signs of fall, finally.
We walked up to Crystal Creek, and the normally Yellow Tunnel was still green.
We walked down the road to Cold Springs Campground.
A little bit of work has been done on the Nature Trail, which was blocked by fallen trees and snow patches earlier in the summer. The water is still flowing strong, the aspens are still green, and there is some fall color showing in a few leaves.
We saw some interesting things.
The berries were abundant this year.
Closing has lots of tasks, not all of which I photographed, because why would you want to see all that?? But here is one, peculiar to our cabin. Not every cabin requires a climb onto the roof.
Closing is bittersweet. It is hard to say goodbye to one’s second home, even if it is a seasonal farewell. There is also the relief of knowing everything is securely buttoned up, putting away one’s duffel-bags, being home, catching up on yardwork, spending time with the cats, going to church again, staying current with emails and various internet activities, getting work done. (Knitting is portable, so I didn’t list this.)
Trail Guy is nostalgic; I just knit, unravel, reknit, and enjoy the final moments.
The drive down took awhile because we stopped several times to share information about sites and road construction, to discuss the locks on the gates, to wish friends a good winter, and to just take in the sights.
The water is still flowing along the road, and scarlet monkeyflowers were abundant this year. We also saw Farewell-to-Spring, yes, in October!
Farewell, Farewell.
This will be one of just two posts about Mineral King because I don’t want to gloat about enjoying it this summer while the public was barred from visiting. However, I know you are curious, so here is a brief look.
This year everything was delayed in Mineral King, due to a heavy winter. Normally, in August we begin to see signs of impending fall. Not so in 2023!
Here is a look at August and September this year. Water was flowing, berry bushes were still in bloom, grasses were green, snow patches hadn’t melted. By late September, some of the ferns had taken a hit in colder temperatures and turned bronze.
Tomorrow I will show you pictures from closing weekend, October 5-8, 2023.
Because Mineral King was closed to the public all summer, I chose to not post about it. There is nothing polite about rubbing people’s noses in the harsh reality of being forbidden to visit the most beautiful place in Tulare County, and in spite of my natural bluntness, I do my best to be polite.
We closed our cabin on a beautiful fall weekend, shut off the water to our little road, and said goodbye to Mineral King for the year.
Road repairs still had not begun, although the contractor was gathering equipment at the bottom of the road on Highway 198/Sierra Drive. There was also a bit of additional flagging where a few wires cross the Mineral King road.
In June, after Tulare County had their lower piece of the road repaired, Trail Guy and the Farmer volunteered many hours, marking the hazards and making the road passable. The Park gave permission for these two hardworking, capable, generous men to do the Park’s work, for free. They were instructed to not clean up anything, because the Park wanted Federal Highways to see the damage and messes.
This repair project should have been started as soon as the road was passable. In the opinions of those of us who drove the road regularly, at the very least, the Park should have sent up a backhoe operator with a shovel-wielding ground crew person to clean out the culverts and clear the gutters. However, they are extremely short-staffed, and Mineral King is not a priority.
The Park hired a contractor, and all summer we kept hearing warnings to not drive the road because we would be interfering with road work. In reality, there was no road work by either the Park nor any contractors.
We were also warned against driving the road because if there was a problem, there would be no way for emergency vehicles to assist or rescue.
We were warned against using our cabins because if there was a problem, no one would come help us. No propane trucks could deliver, and there was no garbage service. Somehow, the resilient and resourceful cabin community made it through these inconveniences.
Eventually, the phone company made it up the hill, but Trail Guy and I opted to not have a phone at the cabin. Several neighbors have phones, which they made available to us. This was an excellent arrangement, and since Trail Guy helps them out regularly, almost as if he is everyone’s (unpaid) resident houseman, he needed their phones in order to stay in touch. In return, we didn’t have to pay $54/month to keep our phone throughout the entire year for 4-5 months of use. Even more importantly, we didn’t have to hear it ring, interrupting our peace and causing us to wonder if yet another Fireman’s Fund was desperate for our help.
The latest missive from the Park:
A quick update on the Mineral King Road construction project. We’ve just been notified by the contractor that they won’t need to begin full road closures until October 17th. They will begin moving equipment and performing some work along the road beginning on Monday, October 9th. They will have traffic control personnel on site during this first phase of work.
Road work impacts will be from the park boundary up to the top of the construction zone at the Conifer Gate. The closure could be reduced over time but shouldn’t extend beyond that.
Work will take place Monday through Saturday, no work on Sundays.
7am-Noon????Road Closed
Noon to 1pm? Road Open
1-5pm ???????Road Closed
5pm to 7am ??Road Open
Access will continue to be limited to cabin owners and administrative traffic only. No public access.
In the opinion of the highly knowledgeable Trail Guy, formerly known as Road Guy, the construction zone needs to be extended above the Conifer Gate. You may recall that there was a rather alarming sinkhole in July, which was just 2 miles below the end of the road. We didn’t mention that there were also numerous “tree failures”, and the logs were just moved and trimmed to be one-lane passable.
Although it was mighty peaceful in the summer of 2023, we are not snobs nor are we elitists: we certainly hope that Mineral King is open to the public in 2024.
There is a common thread running through this month’s list. You will see what I’ve been focusing on learning lately.
2. A friend showed us these inflatable solar lights from REI. Sounds like a great way to not use propane at the cabin, but the lights themselves run from about $30-$50, depending on the size. Inflatable!?!
3. Glucose Revolution by Jessie Inchauspé is a book that has inspired me to change the way I eat. It is well-researched, well-written, and makes a ton of sense. Here it is on ThriftBooks (I got my copy at the library).
4. CACHE is starting a new quest to gather money to have longer hours. Their attempts to secure grants have been unsuccessful, so they will be asking 300 people to give $100/year for two years in order to be open more hours. This makes much more sense to me: the local people who care will be more involved if they feel responsible for helping to keep it running. You should see the museum now—it is fabulous, nothing like the normal small town history museums! CACHE = Center for Arts, Culture, & History, Exeter, and their website is here: CACHE
5. I learned how to transfer a pattern from a picture on the computer to a life-size outline on a wall.
6. Xylitol is a zero calorie sweetener made from the bark of birch trees. (Birch trees?? Who figured this out?) It is supposed to work on a 1:1 exchange with sugar in baking (too expensive for me!), and the reviews are mixed. Glucose Revolution says it might still spike your glucose (how?? why??); other sources say it is a great substitute without side effects. I think it tastes better than stevia (but I still prefer real sugar, so there!)
7. Monk fruit (what in the world?) is the favored non-sugar sweetener these days. I haven’t tried it yet.
8. Currants are difficult to pick, and when you run them through a juicer, they make orange goo rather than juice. If you want to make jelly, pick way way way more than you think you need, boil them awhile, then mash them in a colander for a long time to let the juice appear. Or, you can dig a hole in your garden and bury the entire mess.
9. Did you know that buffalo are classified as bovines? I didn’t know either, until they were listed as possible subjects to enter into the current exhibit at CACHE, called “A Bovine State of Mind”.
10. I heard somewhere that only 18% of Americans now attend church regularly. I’m not sure how “regularly” is actually defined here; I go native/rogue/heathen in the summer, and then attend regularly when the cabin is closed for the year. I love my church.
A follow-up on nine topics mentioned in previous posts.
Continue reading
Someone’s Colorado cabin –definitely not small, rustic or rude
This is a backcountry cabin somewhere in Montana.
This rest of this post features drawings of Wilsonia cabins, where I spent 4 summers learning about that cabin community and discovering many common themes to the Mineral King community.
There are three distinct parts to cabin-ness:
A Wilsonia road
A Wilsonia neighborhood
The culture—slower, focused on people instead of technology; a place to play, recreate and relax, mostly outside; a place where meals and fireplaces become events in and of themselves; returning to nostalgic pastimes either of our youth or of some idealized youth of our parents and grandparents.
Outdoor dining is a big part of cabin life.
Napping is a regular method of relaxing at a cabin.
See? Outdoor dining area
Even outdoor cooking!
Fireplaces are a huge part of cabin culture.
Eat and run??
It seems that the culture part is the strongest determining factor of cabin life. Some of our cabin neighbors gathered in another location for several summers, due to illness of one of their group. One of them told me, “We do Mineral King things in Seattle, and Mineral King is present with us there.” (I probably paraphrased it beyond all recognition – Forgive me, Sawtooth Six!)
Thus, we conclude our 2023 series on Cabin Life. (unless I think of something else)
P.S. Most of the drawings in this post are part of the book The Cabins of Wilsonia, available here.
P.P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .
. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.