Community Life in Mineral King

Mineral King is a place for backpackers, campers, day hikers, day trippers, and cabin folks. Today’s post is about the cabin community. (Last summer I posted regularly about cabin life.)

There are cabin communities all over the mountains in this country, and most likely in other countries too. I’ve written in the past (2018?) about what makes them special: Cabin Thoughts, One; Cabin Thoughts, Two; Cabin Thoughts, Three, A Few More Cabin Thoughts, and Final Final Cabin Thoughts.

Today’s post is what happens on a busy weekend in our cabin community of Mineral King. There are several parts to the community: our immediate neighbors, those across the creek, the settlement one mile down the road (formerly known as “Faculty Flat”, now “West Mineral King” is the preferred name, and no, I didn’t ask for pronouns); Silver City (private property 4 miles down the road); and Cabin Cove (7 cabins about 5 miles down the road from us).

This is what happens on any given weekend—the closer to the end of summer, the more activities. We:

  1. gather at someone’s cabin for “happy hour”, eat fun things, catch up with one another, and then are too full for dinner
  2. eat dinner together
  3. (Trail Guy and The Farmer, not me unless The Farmer isn’t around) help with various repairs. (The cabins are OLD.)
  4. hike together (hike: carrying pack with lunch and water)
  5. walk together (no pack, no lunch)
  6. give one another rides up and down the hill
  7. bring supplies for one another when coming up the hill
  8. share books
  9. lend knitting needles
  10. let people use our telephone (when we had one) and borrow the neighbor’s phone now
  11. clean up the platform for the annual “Music in the Mountains” event
  12. prune in one another’s yards (okay, that’s just me. . .)
  13. use a hav-a-hart trap to catch bushy-tailed woodrats (definitely Trail Guy, NOT me)
  14. explore historic sites
  15. lend tools
  16. repair water line breaks
  17. go through the junk we discover in our respective cabins, sometimes trading items of interest
  18. share missing recipe ingredients

We stay in touch throughout the year, because our friendships are solid, not simply seasonal.

Mineral King Without Hiking

There is always work to be done on cabins; I’m the self-appointed Chairman of the Neighborhood Beautification Committee. As such, I said “I can” when a neighbor asked if I knew of anyone who could paint the trim on his cabin. The very faded and peeling trim.

A new pair of socks is on the needle (yeppers, one pair at the same time on one needle).

There was a lovely evening time around a fire with neighbors who are cherished friends. We choose to hang out with our neighbors, and time up the hill is always enhanced by their presence.

I took a short (very short) walk to see what is in bloom. The lupine are profuse.

There is more larkspur than in the past, and it is very small.

In my ongoing efforts to learn trees, I stopped to photograph this lodgepole pine. Did you know that lodgepoles are the only 2-needle pines? That means the needles grow in pairs. Duh.

There is still whitewater, and yes, that is smoke obscuring the rock outcropping on Empire. There are multiple fires in the Sierra Nevada foothills right now.

It was so very green (if I ignored the smoky sky and the dead trees.)

Heading back, I was struck by how different this little group of aspens looked with the sunlight behind. (It is the same group of four shown in the previous photo.)

Thus, we conclude another few days of hanging out in Mineral King, keeping occupied without hiking.

Things I Don’t Understand

My life isn’t only focused on Mineral King and making a living with art. While I am puttering at the cabin or at home, painting, yardening, knitting, splitting wood, listening to something, I think.

Sometimes I think about things that I don’t understand. None of it is very important or life-altering. As a Questioner, I wonder about stuff. Here is a current list:

  • Sun tea: Who cares if it brews in the sun or in the refrigerator?
  • Sun-dried tomatoes: Who cares if they are dried in the sun, in a dehydrator, or on a shelf in the back window of your car?
  • Sea-salt: What difference does it make if the salt comes from the “sea” (don’t they mean “ocean”?), from Death Valley, or from those dreaded salt-mines?
  • Artisanal or hand-crafted: Does this actually improve the flavor?
  • Anti-science: since when is asking questions “anti-science”? I thought questions were how you figure out what is true.
  • Tailgating: it causes accidents, creates tension, and never causes the one in front to drive faster. What is wrong with people??
  • Horror movies: who wants to be scared? Why?? Isn’t life scary enough?
  • Have you noticed that there is a tremendous amount of advertising for beds, mattresses, and linens? Do you think there is some sort of correlation with the explosion of high-energy drinks available? Here, get amped up, and now you can’t sleep? Just buy a new bed!

If you leave comments and don’t hear back from me or see them appear, please be patient. It means I am in the Land of No Electricity, Phones, or Internet, probably thinking of more things that I don’t understand.

And now maybe you don’t understand why I used all these photos of sunflower paintings. Easy—because it is summer!

Seven Things Learned in June

I didn’t learn much in June; is this the result of 2 weeks spent blowing my nose? Here is my monthly list, minus many AHA! moments.

1. The lotion I’ve used on my face for more than 20 years is no longer available. Why do companies stop manufacturing items? Yeah, yeah, because they aren’t profitable enough. Sigh. I looked on eBay and the least expensive is $75. No thanks. I used to balk at paying $13.

Expect more wrinkles yearly.

2. My normal preferred route to Hume Lake was closed due to construction. There is an alternate route, one that involved roads I never knew existed, paved but one-lane. In the past I would have taken the new route without question, excited to learn a new way. However, in his old age. Fernando is only cautiously adventuresome. Sigh. Maybe I learned acceptance of limitations of our advancing ages.

3. A friend needed a room in Newport Beach for a pickleball tournament. Did you know that $120 is considered a bargain??

4. Colds can slam you at any time of year, regardless of how carefully you avoid sick people. Something changed with Covid; I used to go as long as 5 years without catching anything. Or did something change with age, as I moved into the S’s? Never mind. Was it Covid? I don’t care. What have I learned? Never mind. Just complaining a little. (Do colds last two weeks for you too?? They used to last 7 days.)

5. I am skeptical about the claims of many medicines, particularly those for colds. A cold will last as long as it lasts and will do whatever it does, regardless of our attempts to stifle or shorten it. Here is an article that backs up my skepticism: Doctors question value of other cold medicines. . . I realize this is the internet, where opinions and experts abound, and there is much contradiction, but this article backs up my own experiences.

6. Even if I am grounded in Mineral King by the sorry nature of my numb feet, it is still a great place to hang out in the summer.

7. I hired someone to feed the cats and water the yard but she never showed up*. Four different friends have stepped into the void. I learned to accept a (HUGE) gift of help, and unfortunately, to not trust someone.

*It wasn’t a hot weekend and the cats had access to their regular abode, water, and dry food that they usually ignore.

Mellow Mineral King Time

On my most recent excursion to Mineral King, Fernando and I took our time getting there. (I drove myself so as to not cough on other people.) I didn’t take any road photos, lost track of how many potholes, dirt sections, and flower varieties, and thoroughly enjoyed the drive. (The radiator was replaced last summer, so all was well.)

In spite of not hiking, I found plenty to keep me occupied. First, I just admired our new umbrella.

Then I worked on some socks, which really looked great with the dress I was wearing.

I admired the umbrella a bit more.

I contemplated the changes up slope the hill from my vista point.

2021
now

A few flowers were out in abundance and the light was right.


Western wallflower
Bitter cherry

I admired a cabin with evening light through their tangled flag. I’ve drawn this in pencil and called it “Dawn’s Early Light”, which is more poetic than “Tangled Evening Flag”.

The classic view is both beautiful and unphotographical in evening light. However, it is useful to have this photo of the water as I finish up my current painting of the most popular Mineral King scene.

There is a lot of fun to be had at the bridge.

seeking flat rocks
photographing the big splash
evening light beneath the bridge

By hanging out near the cabin instead of heading out on the trails, I spend more time with neighbors, splitting firewood, doing little projects, noticing details and new possible paintings.

Languid ladies, AKA Sierra bluebells

Let’s close this little session of chitchat about mellow cabin life with another shot of the classic scene.

A Situation and a Recovery

A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.

While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.

There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.

These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.

Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.

Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145
Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145

Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).

Assorted Photos with Chit-Chat

If you look in the shadows between (and beyond) the 2 chairs, you might be able to discern a doe with 2 fawns, probably born that very day.

While getting gas at the Four-way (local vernacular for an important intersection), I snapped this photo. Barns this classic and oak trees this majestic, quercus lobata, are standard but disappearingTulare County items, and when seen together, they should be painted or drawn or just photographed. (If I paint this, I will edit it severely.)

This is called a vitex tree. Doesn’t that sound like some sort of diet supplement? We tend to refer to these as “lupine trees”.

I finished 2 more Mineral King paintings, both 8×8″, drying quickly in the heat.

My friend with the Hume Lake cabin sent me this photo, which might possibly be the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen. Maybe I shall paint it. . . yes, I KNOW it is in Fresno/Fres-yes County but it is a well-loved place, even among us ignorant, fat, uneducated, poor, diabetic Tulare County hon-yocks.

Trail Guy Goes to Ranger’s Roost

Do you know “Ranger’s Roost”? It is the higher ground to the west of Timber Gap.

I didn’t go. I was at home, dealing with a situation. More on that next week. . .

Trail Guy was gobsmacked by the abundance of phlox, as evidenced by the abundance of photographs of phlox.

Timber Gap has great views, both north and south.

Looking south into Mineral King

Looking north into the middle fork drainage of the Kaweah river and the mountains beyond, none of which I can name.

I love trail photos.

If you are reading this post on the day it goes live, I hope to be back in Mineral King. Probably not hiking, maybe painting, probably just reading or knitting or splitting wood. Maybe next week’s Mineral King post will have photos taken by me with my camera.

P.S. You can tell these photos are from Trail Guy’s camera because the sky has those dark spots (from something on/in the lens, not chemtrails). He doesn’t mind. I bought him a new camera, and he declined it. I kept the new camera, and it went weird, while his spotty camera just keeps soldiering onward. I bought myself another new camera, and so far, so good.

Cabin Time at Hume Lake

This is a cabin. It’s a real cabin, not a fancy house in the mountains.

This is a pair of socks on the needles. Instead of spending hours walking around the lake, I got in some knitting.
My friend has a quirky sense of humor. This is in her front yard.

We didn’t just sit around the cabin. We had to figure out why the BBQ wouldn’t light and why it smelled so strongly of propane that the Hume Lake Fire Department showed up at 11:30 one night, sniffing around to find the problem. The next day, two of us spent a couple of hours cleaning the BBQ, then refilled the tank, which solved all the problems.

And we did walk down to the lake a few times. The grass was newly planted, just irresistible.

Summer camps for kids hadn’t yet begun, so the whole place was very calm and quiet.

Even the office has tremendous curb appeal. The entire place is well-maintained, landscaped, and ultra-friendly. (And it has electricity, working telephones, wifi at some of the private cabins, paved roads, and a fire department.) It isn’t Mineral King, but it has its own appeal, and still retains common cabin community characteristics.

The route home went back through Sequoia National Forest and Sequoia National Park. I left early enough to not have to deal with a ton of traffic, except for hoards heading up the hill once I was past Giant Forest. These are two attempts to get photos for painting.

OF COURSE I won’t paint in the speed limit sign. But I think the light on this tree was worth a quick stop.

Tomorrow we will return to watching paint land on canvases.