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This is an afternoon walk at Salt Creek earlier this week. No chit-chat, no April fooling, just photos.
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Instead of showing you my current art projects or discussing the unending challenges and rewards of being a fulltime artist in Tulare County, today is another bonus peek at spring in Three Rivers.
These photos were taken on Friday morning.
Tomorrow I’ll show you my current odd job.
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There have been ongoing diversions and distractions lately. In spite of loving what I do for a living, there are many things I would rather do when it is spring in Three Rivers.
Early last week it snowed low again. The white snow on the peaks blended with the white sky, so all you can see is a tiny hint of Moro Rock.
The measuring stick on the downstream side of the Dinely Bridge got washed away in the flooding.
This is looking upstream, and maybe you can get a slight hint of how low the snow is.
I spent some time helping friends prepare the yard where their daughter’s wedding will be. We kept taking breaks because of the rain.
She wants to get married in front of that tipi thing.
I had a little trouble being efficient with my time, because the four black cattle (cows are females that have given birth; these are either heifers or steers, for beef) kept asking for my prunings, and the smaller black creature kept wanting me to toss the Frisbee. 
Did you know that black steers have dark gray tongues? I didn’t. It was very challenging to capture that peculiarity with a camera. 
You can see a little bit of the tongue on the left side of the photo.
They were highly entertaining.
Apparently they thought I was too.
This reminds me of a joke about some guys at a diner. They asked about the special, and when they were told it was cow tongue, one of them said, “Oh gross! I’d never eat anything that came out of a cow’s mouth. I’ll just have some eggs.”
One of the trees I was pruning was a Meyer lemon, and it inspired me to take this photo.
Meanwhile, it was raining on the flowering quince, which is usually in bloom around mid-February. Not this year!
Another chance to soak up the brilliant color of the fantastic germander.
I love spring in Three Rivers. Can you tell?
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This morning I went for a walk up Salt Creek (Bureau of Land Management property). It was so beautiful that it warrants an extra blog post of photographs.
The first photo was taken at the Dinely bridge while waiting for my walking buddy to arrive. The rest are on the BLM property.
There is a new parking lot at the top of Salt Creek Road, but the gate prevents anyone from using it. We went that way because the 2 footbridges crossing Salt Creek got washed away.
This is the side trail to that pond, obliterated now.
This used to have a nice footbridge across it. Now there is no footbridge at all, nice or otherwise.
With a bit of warmth, the redbud will be popping out soon. (It already is in yards in Three Rivers.)
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A day before the big storm, there was a brief time of sunshine. It lit up this germander, a drought tolerant shrub that looks great in spring and horrid in summer.
That evening, Jackson did not want to be put away. He decided to walk the other way and then attempt to catch his own dinner. I walked around the yard calling for him, and of course, he ignored me. However, I found him. Can you see his tail?
He was very intensely focused on some quail which feed around dusk, which is when we feed our cats.
Dude, I am watching you, and you are not going to catch a quail. 
He showed up at the front door looking for entry to the workshop where his dinner was waiting. Michael walked him over, and put him away for the night.
The next day was so intensely green and my leaning tree was in full bloom. (It’s a flowering pear, one of the earliest trees to bloom and one of the last to hold its color in the fall.)
Eventually I made it into the workshop (the cats’ safe place at night) to get a little painting done.
The first one is called Below Terminus Dam. I love this view in spite of it not having snow-covered peaks in the distance. Some years there are poppies on the distant hills; it is too soon to know this year because we are having a real winter.
This is the commissioned piece, now finished. (The right side looks darker because I am casting a shadow on it.)
This is the painting that was giving me trouble. I’ve decided that it is finished now.
This concludes today’s post about your Central California artist enjoying spring, her recalcitrant cat, her yard, and painting her favorite Tulare County scenes.
Thank you for visiting my blog today.
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This is your photojournalist reporting in from an excursion taken today, Saturday, March 18, 2023. Trail Guy, The Farmer, and I drove about 4 miles up the Mineral King road, then continued on foot. There will be many many photos (I took 92 but will only show you 47—you are welcome), and a little explanation or commentary.
The Road Closed sign is barely visible here below Mile 4.
A friend was doing a similar excursion and began the same time we did. Trail Guy advised him to climb up to the flume for easier walking, because his destination was farther up the road than ours.
Common sight.
Ho-hum, another big rock.
Mud, road a little bit gone.
And yet another rock.
And another chunk gone.
Wait, are you telling me we could have driven another 1/2 mile up?? Apparently so.
Whoa. This is the big washout. I bet Mineral King folks will forever refer to this as Washout Corner, or Washout Canyon.
We had a little bit of boulder scrambling to do.
Then some water to cross.
Looking back at the mess.
About 1/2 mile farther up from the mess.
Standard mud-on-road.
Oh-oh. Are we finished? The road certainly is. This is at Skyhook.
Nope, we are not done. The Farmer scrambled up the bank to the flume, pronounced it doable, and we followed.
Our friend caught up with us on the flume, and we pulled aside to let him pass because he was on a mission to check on a man who lives farther up the road. We were just ogling, on a mission to see things.
We climbed down.
And headed down a paved road to the real road…
…only to discover we were on the uphill side of Skyhook. The flow went right through the center of the property.
I want to go to the bridge.
In the days before the flood, this would have been considered a disaster. Now, it’s merely another blip on the screen of the Winter of Water.
Bear Canyon survived. It appears to be abandoned, so even if it got washed away, no one would care. (what a waste)
Another muddy section.
And yet another one. I waded through this one in barefeet. 
By the time I got to this muddy mess, I just walked through in my trusty hiking Crocs.
Such a beautiful flow of water in this canyon after too many dry years.
MY FAVORITE BRIDGE IS FINE!!
Rocks, mud, no big deal.
Happy Centennial, Oak Grove Bridge!
Looking upstream.
Looking downstream.
Just looking.
And looking.
Time to turn around and head back to the pick-em-up truck.
Whoa. Is this a new disaster waiting to happen to the flume just below the bridge? Or are we seeing with new eyes, filtered for impending doom?
Here’s the abandoned Bear Canyon.
Climbing up to the flume just above Skyhook.
I really like walking the flume. Not supposed to do it.
Our friend told us that the flume had blown apart or been smashed by a tree, so he had to do some scrambling and crawling. We got to this yellow tape, and climbed down the steps to the access road.
This is the access road onto the flume, opposite the very wide spot in the road below the bridge.
We walked back without incident, happy to be alive, thankful for rain, thankful to be able to walk 5 miles, thankful for springtime, thankful for friendship, just thankful.
And looking forward to seeing repairs by the Tulare County Roads Department. But I bet the people at Skyhook and those on above are looking forward to that road work even more than we are.
Thanks for coming with me on this tour. Batten the hatches, because there is another storm coming our way tomorrow.
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Monday was a sunny day, with bright colors, and warm temperatures.
We went to church to deal with a flooded office, broken gutter, and misbehaving water flows.
Then we headed down to Kaweah Lake to see how high (and muddy and full of debris) it looked.
Looking west toward the dam, which is now too far away to see, around a corner.
Looking east at Blossom Peak (hill with 3 points)
Looking northeast toward Moro Rock and Alta Peak, which isn’t visible under the clouds.
The parking lot at Slick Rock is blocked.
Later I went walking with a neighbor. So very very green, blue, and white!
Bush lupine with poppies.
Two more kinds of lupine with popcorn flowers. We just hung out, soaking sunshine and bright colors for awhile. (It was steep, so maybe we needed to catch our breath a little too.)
Tuesday was so different from Monday that it was hard to believe the two days were in the same month, much less the same week. This is how Kaweah Lake looked when I pulled over at the normal view point on my way down the hill to teach drawing lessons.
A few roads were narrowed, a main road was closed.
It rained all the way back home.
This is the Yokohl curve, where the normally dry Yokohl Creek occasionally flows. Nope, I didn’t pull over in the rain to photograph the water. I focused on my driving, while holding up the camera and hoping to capture something without looking at it. (You’re welcome).
I pulled over next to this grove of pistachios, put down the passenger window exposing the leather seat to rain, and took a few pictures. When it was planted about 7 years ago, I asked the farmer if he had a plan for planting in what is historically a pond during wet years. He thought the pump could handle it. Apparently he overestimated the pump’s capacity.
Excuse the blurriness. I just wanted you to see how tall the trees are so you can estimate how deep the pond is. 
So far we have gotten about 9″ of rain at our house since this series of storms began last Thursday. It ain’t over yet, folks. . . keep your LLBean boots handy!
Maybe we can talk about making art tomorrow.
P.S. Nothing new to report about the Mineral King Road or other road closures or flooding in Three Rivers. Your photojournalist only reports on what she sees with her own eyes.
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When there is an event, everyone is a photojournalist. I am your photojournalist reporting from the middle fork of the Kaweah River in Three Rivers. There is a lot of action in other parts of town, but it is fairly sane in our neighborhood. I continue to be thankful that we couldn’t afford riverfront property when we moved here, and thankful to have a house that was here pre-1955 when The Big Flood happened.
This is also known as the main fork of the Kaweah. We live about 1/2 mile above it and often walk to the Dinely Bridge to see how it looks.
Lots of snow is still hanging in there, in spite of the warm rain.
We took a walk, and Trail Guy carried a big rake. He tried to free up some gunk clogging a culvert so that mud stops flowing across our road.
Moro Rock is visible up the canyon while the Alta Peak elephant hides behind clouds.
Back to the Dinely Bridge, looking upstream
Looking upstream to the Dinely side of the bridge (makes me think of Olivia Newton John’s song “The river’s too wide now for crossing. . .”)
Looking upstream to the Sierra (Hwy. 198) side of the bridge
Looking downstream
Looking downstream toward the highway
Looking downstream with Comb Rocks in the distance
Back home for a brief moment of sunshine (hi Pippin!)
We got a call from an adventurous friend who rode his bike up the Mineral King Road. (He likes to do things like that. . .ride to Mineral King, run to Eagle Lake, and ride home in the summer). He took many photos for us where the road is “gone-zo” (his term) about 4.5 miles up.
These are some of his photos of various washouts and blowouts and gone-zo-outs. I’m not sure where each one is, but know that the county has a ton of work ahead.
He also sent videos, but those don’t work here. Many similar photos were posted on the Book of Faces by one of his traveling companions, and several friends sent me screen shots. Our friend called us before they went public. Thank you, Dennis V!!
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Many friends have checked in to see if we are okay. We are definitely okay, and touched by the many inquiries.
We took some bags to a friend who lives along Salt Creek so he could fill them with sand. The creek flowed over his bridge so he needed to prep more for the next wave, or “atmospheric river” as everyone loves to say these days.
Looking upstream
Looking downstream
Looking down
Looking across
It didn’t rain during the day yesterday and there was much to appreciate.
My neighbor wanted to go for a walk again.
Looking downstream at the Dinely Bridge (on the Middle Fork).
Looking upstream
The water is lower than yesterday.
Someone didn’t want to get her feet wet.
Equipment was working on that washout.
Looking upstream
Moments of sunshine, appreciating the early wildflowers and green.
Did I not notice those cones on our way toward the washout? I did notice the puddles. . .
If I lived by the river, I would waste an enormous amount of time just staring at it.
Looking downstream off the Dinely bridge one more time.
Yesterday we had thunderstorms around 5 p.m.
Town is still mostly closed, no church today, but people are allowed to leave town and return now.
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Thursday night brought 4-1/2″ of rain.
My neighbor asked if I wanted to go looky-looing on Friday morning. Her car is higher than mine, and I immediately replied YES.
She manages a vacation rental on the North Fork. This is the view from the backyard at the normally mild fork that often dries up in the summer.
This is the North Fork flowing over the top of the Airport Bridge (there used to be an airport nearby). The whitewater is where the water hits the railing that the county used to remove when floods were predicted. Now they prefer to leave the railings up, which causes the water to flow around and wash out the approaches. This happened in January. Here we go again.
This is by my studio and workshop.
Later in the afternoon I went walking with another neighbor to survey the ongoing excitement and damages. This usually dry drainage was roaring over the road by her house, so we went another direction.
Same drainage, farther down, closer to the river.
Looking upstream from the Dinely Bridge.
Looking downstream on the Dinely Bridge.
No, really, LOOK AT THIS!!
Pretty little drainage coming off Edison Road.
In a friend’s yard, where the water is usually a bit of a distance away. Not so today.
This is a spot where lots of people trespass at the river on this little beach. We could hear boulders banging around beneath the current.
Another little drainage along Kaweah River Drive. This is where overflow from the flume occasionally flows.
A yard where the flume flows is very exciting right now.
Well, oops. This is where we turned around. There was a roaring stream across the road. I tested it with a stick, and it was about a foot and a half deep.
Looking upstream at this drainage, wondering where it came from. A man who lived above was out walking and explained that someone built a pond incorrectly, the dam on it broke, and the result is that many people are trapped on the other side.
Walking back, you can see that the water is very close to the road. In the early 2000s, I saw it closer. I was scared then, and I shouted at my neighbor who was driving, “GO FORWARD, GO BACK, OR LET ME OUT, BUT DON’T JUST STOP HERE!”
What’s this??
Mandatory evacuations.
This is the view upcanyon from the Remorial Building. I said “Remorial” because another neighbor thought that was the correct pronunciation when she was a child. She is getting married in 21 days, but we still pronounce it that way.
A sheriff was going through the neighborhood around 7 p.m. last night to tell us about evacuation orders. But Trail Guy met him at the bottom of the driveway and said no, we aren’t going anywhere. The sheriff gathered our name, phone numbers, address, and went on his way. Our house was built before the ’55 flood, so we feel fine.