Sea of Sage

[Treeshepherd]

"Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look beyond the ranges-- something lost behind the ranges. Lost and waiting for you..." -Rudyard Kipling

About a month ago I was channel surfing and settled on a PBS Nature episode entitled The Sagebrush Sea. I was instantly enrolled in the show, knowing that I had summer plans to help a friend move from Carson City back to the coast. After that I had to take a business trip from Tahoe to Mammoth Lakes. I learned from the show about the natural history of a sea of sage that extends from the Sierra and Cascades out to Wyoming. It’s the home of coyote, bear, deer, golden eagles, rabbits, grouse, and a carpet of grass and lime-green sage which spices the high desert winds and releases perfume underfoot.

The territory is worth a look. I decided to take a close-up, using all of my senses (including the spiritual). Leaving Tahoe, I stopped in Markleeville where an old-timer asked if I’d ever seen a creature that is half-bear and half-deer.
“It’s called a beer,” I answered. “I have a feeling I’ll see a few tonight.”

I drove on and crested Monitor Pass and gained further elevation bouncing up a bumpy rocky Leviathan Peak Road. I hiked and found two suitable pines from which to string my backpacking hammock. I camped at 8,500 feet. The wind came in bursts until darkness set. By the time I’d encountered a few beers the darkness had been surpassed by the starlight of the Milky Way.

[ pic: looking west from Leviathan Peak Road.]

to be continued...

 

[Treeshepherd]

Rains threw a damper on all the 4th of July tourists in Tahoe. When I arrived at the lake on the 11th I heard stories of lightening, rain and hefty hailstones. Some Nevadans told me they had more rain in July than during all of April and May. The result for myself was an emergence of green grass and wildflowers, and increased waterfall performance. I had two days to explore before I was needed in Mammoth.

After crossing the Sierra I grabbed a bite, a Reno Gazette and some tourist literature in Walker-- a town you could shoot a period Western in without much theater production. I drove along the trout-rich Walker River, one of those riparian ribbons that bloom as corridors of oasis until their waters terminate with lakes in the Nevada sand.

I read up and decided upon a day hike to Parker Lake. It was just a 2 mile climb up to the lake. The sea of sage was swimming with lizards and brightened by wildflowers.

[Parker Lake trail]

I swam in the lake as a couple of raindrops fell...

...and then continued on, burrowing through a thicket along the inlet stream which fell from a patch of snow high up in the crags. Within the cottonwoods and pines I found tiger lily and unfamiliar mushrooms and experienced the sense of being watched by winged sprites. I emerged to scale enormous slabs of granite and looked back from the edge of an outcropping contemplating the clouds filled with both light and darkness...

As I returned down the trail I was treated to vistas of Mono Lake. I drove to a vacant National Forest campground and cooked a bit of dinner on a pine cone fire. The clouds vanished somewhere above the desert and I was not forced to sleep under the metal roof of the van.

to be continued...

 

[Treeshepherd]

I did some riding in the mountain bike park in Mammoth. That’s just pure fun and exhilaration.

The joys and advantages of biking are obvious. One thing I like about hiking, though, is the fact that you see more. A butterfly slowly flutters by, or maybe you stop to photograph a wildflower, or you spot a camouflaged snake out of the corner of your eye. The slower your go, the more you take in. And when I walk alone I tend to be nearly silent and more likely to see wildlife.

I took a day to hike the Pacific Crest Trail along the San Joaquin River near the Devil’s Postpile;

I hiked about 10 miles down to Rainbow Falls where there were a bunch of people due to the proximity to a road;

I hiked back to Sotcher Lake and entered the perfect water from a sandy beach. I swam and dove down and swam until I was cleaned by the wilderness.

Sotcher Lake;

 

[Treeshepherd]

Red's Meadow Sign

The reflection of the light made rainbows on my picture. Red's Meadow is a resupply place along the Pacific Crest Trail with a little store, restaurant and showers. Something is telling me that I need to return to Red's Meadow and hike a big chunk of the PCT. It's 210 miles hiking north to Tahoe City, passing through Yosemite. The trail exceeds 10,000 feet of elevation a couple of times. I'm thinking that will be my next serious backpacking trip, possibly in September.

Last week was a good little outing. Every time I'm on the trail I wonder why I'm not always on the trail. And then I remember that I have things to take care of back at home. And in between taking care of things at home, I study maps. I love to read maps and atlases and to plan trips, even if I only actually go on a fraction of them.

As I turned around to drive west I crossed the Sierra over Sonora Pass (el. 9,624 feet) where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses the road. As I descended the western slope it began to rain and the gorge filled up with great white pillows of mist.
It wasn't the fastest way to start driving home. It was steep and windy. It was painfully beautiful.

the end