You can fool the fans - but not the players.... John Cage

Craftsmanship: the art of rough milling wood.

Early and late season at the Vermilion Valley Resort is when the projects get done. Fewer guests, a slower pace, and a chance to look around at what needs to be done adds variety to our life here and recently, gave me an opportunity to see a type of craftsmanship not often found, at least not where I've been living.

Last winter was a bad one for trees. Thousands of trees fell in the Sierra, including big, old, healthy trees. We bought two of those trees from the Sierra National Forest, and brought in a crew to mill them into usable lumber for projects around the VVR using a Lucas Mill. I spent some time photographing the process, and since I really don't know much about milling,  will let the photos speak for themselves (mostly).

Check out the size of that blade!

Feather helped in her own special way....

Lots of measuring and adjusting....

Wrestling the log into place...

Chips flying....

 

We'll let this dry over the winter and next summer or fall it'll be remade into picnic tables, fences, benches, and whatever else we need around the resort. So cool to be able to use locally grown, locally milled lumber - who would have thought? I'm so glad there are still people who know how to work with their hands, who like being out in the forest getting covered in sap and sawdust, who can set up a saw mill around a tree and cut straight boards, and who will drive the road up to the VVR and do it all here.

My hat's off to you, the craftsmen.

There is no excitement quite like the first snow

I don't think I'll ever tire of it, no matter how long I live in the mountains. The first snow is magic - the promise of winter and all that it brings. The holidays, long cold nights and short days, winter sports, studio time... winter is my season. I'm a person who'd rather be cold than hot, rather deal with snow than rain, and who's garage is stocked with winter recreational tools like ice skates, skiis, and snowshoes.

We are getting ready to close down the resort and I made one last (I think) drive around the horn of the Sierra - at least the last for this season. The clouds were amazing on the east side and it was an ever-changing show from Bishop to Mojave. I believe we were experiencing what the weather people call an upslope event - as the clouds were swirling around and dipping into the canyons and down practically to the valley floor.

 

I took photos blindly - while keeping my eyes on the road - just by holding my phone up and clicking. A few turned out well enough to share and the rest... well, that is why there is a trash bin in iPhoto, right? I think that is what won me over with digital cameras - there is no price for taking many, many photos in search of a decent one. I remember getting film developed, racing to open the envelope and find only one or two out of each roll that was worth saving. Now it takes me a little time to edit, crop and go through all the digital files, but it isn't such a blow to the ego.

 

The cloud show and "This American Life" podcasts kept me sane on yet another long drive. I have to admit I am really tired of driving this drive. It doesn't help that our Toyota truck, an older Tacoma, is quite possibly the most uncomfortable truck ever made. We have all sorts of back support contraptions that we try using in it but the angle of the seat, the distance from seat to floor - something is just not right for the American body. It kills our backs.

 

By the time I got here I forgot all about my back aching and I began to feel that familiar anticipation of winter that I feel with the first snowfall. This was no dusting, either, this was a substantial snowfall for early October. As you can see, the USFS had to plow this road over Kaiser Pass.

 

The leaves haven't even changed colors yet and Kaiser Meadow is covered with a blanket of snow. This could change - we could easily see a long indian summer now - but for the moment this is the magic of the big meadow.

 

On the other side of the pass, not quite so much snow but all the peaks are covered and the air is cold and crisp. We drove up out of the Fresno overcast skies, into thick fog and then popped out into perfect blue skies.

 

The lake has a beautiful mist over it morning and night, and the banks are spotted with snow.

My plan is to hike this trip - since I did not hike at all over the summer. I may only get in short hikes but anything will do at this point. My promise to myself is that this will not happen next summer. I will carve out time in the backcountry both on foot and on horseback. No more horse and hiking-less summers. Life is too darn short.

 

The smell of woodsmoke, the laughter of people gathered in the cafe, the magic of a big moon's light on the snow. No wonder I couldn't sleep last night. I was up at 3 am, reading by headlamp and drinking hot tea, unwilling to simply toss and turn all night. Now, of course, I'm paying for it with a groggy head but it'll be okay. I did get some good reading time in.

 

This is the lake this morning. The guys are out wrestling with the cold and cranky boat motors, the dogs are frolicking in the brisk air, the cat is outside posing on a stump and I am enjoying it all with a strong cup of coffee and the woodstove fired up. Ahhh, heaven.

Autumn comes to the lake

Autumn is my favorite season, right alongside winter and spring. Oh, and I guess summer, as long as it isn't too hot. I like 'em all but I do love autumn. And it goes so fast. I remember moving up to the Sierra many years ago after living in the Pacific Northwest, the South and Southern California. The four distinct seasons were (and are) a continual delight, and I knew I was finally "home". I just love mountain weather.

The weather was unsettled last week, ushering in fall with morning and evening clouds, a few sprinkles, some wind, and a little chill to the air. We are counting down to the end of the season and change is in the air - with our beloved employees leaving one by one (or sometimes two by two as couples), the campground nearly empty, and mid-week very quiet in terms of guests, but very busy in terms of work. It takes a lot to shut down a resort.

 

I got to see and appreciate the fine burial Chance had - and the lovely heart of rocks and little pine tree that Biscuit used to mark his grave. She (only 10 years old) apologized that it was so messy - she complained that the other dogs had been running and playing in the area and had no regard for her work. Somehow I don't think Chance would mind. He's playing right alongside Abby and Denali and 1st Chance in dog heaven with no regard to what is under-paw.

 

I'm sad but I'm okay with him being gone - he had a really good life with us. Someday I'll scan in some of his puppy photos and blog about his adventurous life with Abby - but for now I'll just be grateful that he had 11 years and that he died quickly and without pain.

This time of year the light on the lake changes so rapidly - it seemed like every time I looked over at it I thought I should be grabbing the camera. Mornings are quiet and gorgeous (the sun comes up over these mountains) but I rarely have the presence of mind to step out and snap a photo... I tend to nurse that first cup of coffee and just enjoy it from my cozy chair. Mid-summer I sleep through most of the sunrises, but this time of year I get to catch them.

 

The sunsets have been the show-stoppers. All this alpenglow - everything turns a rosy pink. We've still got so much water in the lake and it is all pure luck of the draw this summer. Southern California Edison and the needs of the valley below are what determine the water levels in this lake (oh, and not to forget Mother Nature's role in it. She was very generous this year). SCE is draining Shaver Lake right now to work on the dam and the minute that work is finished - the water level in Edison will drop percipitously. But this year everything lined up just right and here we are, at the end, with a full lake.

 

Bella got her first water taxi ride last week and as you can see she was stressed out over it. She had her teacher with her and quickly learned that a sunny spot on the deck was the place to be. Until you get to the other side and then a quick romp hunting for chipmunks is in order.

 

These two are becoming quite the pair. Right now it is still the puppy latched on to the lab and the lab barely tolerating the puppy - but you can see the bonding and soon they will be the best of buds.

 

The ferry stops running soon as the hiking population is dropping off - the PCT hikers have come back through and picked up this section of the Sierra, the JMT hikers have just about finished for the year. This is the time of year you just don't know what the weather will bring - it could be sunny and warm all through October, or an early winter storm can blow through dropping inches of snow. It is beautiful and fickle.

I do hope to see a little snow before we leave, but it is not something JC wishes for. There is too much to be done and too much to be hauled off the mountain to wish for icy roads and snowy passes. I'll keep my little wish to myself and maybe modify it to include the word "dusting". There's plenty of time for real storms and feet-not-inches of snow after October.

Just down the road.... Mono Hot Springs

Like home it takes someone coming to visit to shake me out of my normal routine and out to experience the wonderful things around me. Sad but true. I am too guilty of getting locked into a small circle of activities - wonderful activities like horses and dogs and art and puttering - but a rather narrow range of experiences.

The VVR is my "other" home, my home on the west side, and I get as locked in here as I do on the east side. There is always something calling my attention at the resort; either trying to work at one of my jobs or fill in around the business and once here I rarely get past the pack station and only then to visit with friends slightly less connected to the resort.

This week we had family visiting and that was the push I needed to stop my work day at a reasonable time each day and do something else. And one day we packed a picnic lunch and traveled all of 5 miles but a world away to Mono Hot Springs.

 

This area is a jewel in the backcountry. Once you brave that windy road or walk in off the dusty trail - you have such a plethora of diversions to choose from. Right at the VVR we have plenty to offer - great food, friendly staff; an entire lake to fish, kayak, paddleboard, and pedal (on the hydro-bikes); hiking and socializing. One mile up the road we have High Sierra Pack Station with hour rides, day trips and backcountry pack trips; more friendly staff and willing horses and mules. Five miles down the road we have Mono Hot Springs. 14 miles away we have another big lake, Florence, with more hiking and another hot springs resort: Muir Ranch. Amazing. Amazing that this place isn't overrun with people.

 

Mono Hot Springs (the resort) has been around since the CCC built these stone buildings in the 1930s and the hot springs have been around much longer. The resort offers a cafe, a store, cabins and camping - and all that hot water. And a on-site massage therapist.

 

Many of the structures here are faced with these rounded river rocks and one can only imagine the amount of cement and time it has taken to do all this rock work. The front of the store boasts these big, sturdy rocking chairs and yes, there is wireless internet access to boot. And cell phone reception. Disconnected, yet connected.

 

There are some great old features around the resort and plenty to photograph. I have no idea how old this ice truck is but the rust was perfect.

 

The women's room behind the store has someone's loving murals painted on the walls and this fabulous mirror.

 

The cabins are super-cute from the outside. I haven't yet gotten a peek at the inside but someday one will be open and I'll have my camera ready.

 

And then there is the main bath house with the massage therapist, Cherry, on site with her hot stones and aromatic oils and the included soak in a private tub.... Why oh why am I not there every week?

 

The hot springs have the usual assortment of minerals and other elements...

 

There's a smallish tub outside the spa building that might hold 6-8 friendly people... I seem to recall soaking in this with at least 4 other women a few years ago.

 

The lobby of the spa building is tiled in stone but nice, flat stone and it is very serene inside. What I loved most were the photographs from the early days... including a honeymoon shot taken in 1916. I can't even imagine what it took to get here in 1916 - those were some hardy newlyweds.

 

This is one of the private rooms in the spa building. Simple and spare but you don't need too many bells and whistles when there is good, hot water to soak in.

 

And then there are the outside tubs across Mono Creek and free for everyone's use. That's right. You just have to get here.

 

I love the old tubs and the ruins from the bath houses built in the heyday of the 30s and torn down in the 60s. I'd love to know more about the history and why the bath houses were removed...

 

It must have been something to ride in on horseback or in an old Model T and find this place waiting.

 

If these tubs could talk!

 

But it's all over now and this is what it is today. And it isn't a bad thing either. To a hiker or a traveler or a worker up the road to have hot springs and all the amenities offered at Mono Hot Springs is a treat. It is a jewel.

 

I'm happy we went down there with our picnic lunch and I will remember to visit it more often.

 

Cherry will be penciling me into her appointment book and I will be crossing Mono Creek to soak in Old Pedro.

 

Life is short and goes speeding by. This is just five miles away.

Evening flowers, reluctant good-byes

I had to head home. This is what happens when you live on both sides of the Sierra. At some point you have to leave one home and head to the other to make sure everything is okay. And it is hard to leave each of them.

My last evening we went for a walk along the dam. Despite the hoardes of mosquitoes it was a lovely walk.

 

The sun was setting and the flowers were lit by an incredible light. People were fishing below and there was the little "plop" of hook, line, and sinker every now and then. There was just a hint of haze from the distant fire to the north.

 

In past years we've taken evening walks around the edge of the lake, on the "beach". This year, there is no beach. The lake is full to the brim.

Abby, my sweet Abby dog, is buried on the edge of the lake and this year the fishes are feeding on her bones. She'd like that, I think, since she loved the water so much.

 

There are so many varieties of penstemon blooming around the lake I can't stop taking photos of them! So many variations of color.

 

So many color combinations nature has provided and the light at the end of the day is just perfect for ego-photography.... you don't get this intensity of color midday. JC had to curb his impatience as I snapped away.

 

We need these evening walks because it is the height of the season - when everything is happening, good and bad. Things break down during the height of the season, employees and employers get tired and grumpy during July and August, and the people just keep coming. And we have to welcome them - we DO welcome them - but at the same time it is a time when we can barely think and it is so much work to hold it all together.

 

Walking away from all the hustle and bustle for an evening is what keeps you sane and smiling.

 

We're still seeing Pacific Crest Trail hikers at the resort, and the John Muir Trail hikers are arriving too. The Edison Queen is sometimes making two runs to get everyone across the lake, and she was out of service for a couple of days which really made it interesting with everyone going across in the little boats. Hurray for our outside guys - John and Wayne and CJ - who kept it all going and got everyone where they needed to be.

 

It doesn't matter where I am these days, I am just crazy with work. I've been trying for months to get it under control and I am still working way too much. Some days I feel like I'm going to crack under the strain but somehow I continue to hold it all together. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold it all together but it wouldn't be seemly to fall apart mid-summer - simply not an option.

 

We had good friends at the resort for a week and they looked at us one day and said "We never really realized that while we're here on vacation all of you are working away" and it is true. We don't hike, we don't fish, we don't lay around in the hammocks. We wake up appreciative of the beauty and the potential - but truthfully we don't get out much to enjoy it. Early and late, yes. Mid-season, not a chance.

 

I brought our older dog home for a rest and a visit to the vet.... he's been sleeping since he got back. It is hard to separate the dogs but I left the cat up at the resort for company and Feather is busy enough that I think she'll be fine until we return.

 

Here on the east side I've got family coming in all this week - some just for a night on their way elsewhere, some staying for a few days and my neice staying for almost a month. It's going to be hectic for awhile... and you've got to just enjoy it while it lasts.

 

I'll look back on this post a few times to keep me sane until I can get back up there to my other family - the temporary family that grows and bonds over the summer and breaks apart in the fall... only to mend again next spring.

 

While I'm here I'll ride my horses in the heat, try to stay up on the work, and plan for that elusive time when I can back off a little.

 

Oh yes, and take care of all the neccesities - eyebrows, hair, laundry, vet, tomatoes, wedding, birthdays.....

PS. I came home to disappointment in the back yard. The fish are all dead but one.... there is something wrong with the chemistry of my water feature, I fear, as the water hyacinth all died too.... next year I'm ripping it apart and re-doing it.

Kids, dogs and more projects

Kids love the dogs here and the dogs love the kids. Just a couple of days ago three generations of a family stopped by after their backpacking trip and the youngest generation had a present for Feather.

 

A stick they had carried all the way from the lake they camped at - just for her. Which she promptly destroyed into splinters.

 

It is extremely gratifying to have a dog that loves children and will play with them patiently and endlessly... and to hear the excitement in a child's voice when they return here and they recognize Feather or Chance. It is like they've found gold! Gold in the form of a warm, friendly lab.

I brought some projects with me (of course) and one is completed - I put some flowers in containers and they are adorning the motel and trailers as well as dressing up the store entrance. Now I have a bigger project - the entry to the resort.

 

There's a great old boat that needs a garden in it. But not annuals - those are fine for color around the resort but this needs natives, perennials, things that won't require too much care and will return every year.

 

I'm thinking, of course, of the things that grow and bloom here. Columbine, penstemon, paintbrush, larkspur, a couple of native shrubs, maybe an aspen or two....

 

The USFS gets very nervous when we plant things - no invasives allowed - and I can't take from the forest what is already there. But we have a native plant nursery down the road and I think that this can be a several year project - with some drip irrigation to get it through the summer and fall - and could be really as an entrance to the resort.

 

It'll get a start this year, and I'll keep you posted.

Scenes from the Edison Queen

One of the best things about running a water taxi is seeing the happy faces on the other side - tired and hungry; ready for beer, showers, news from home, socializing, and rest. But to see those faces, you have to take rested, full, re-energized hikers back over.

 

The lake is so different this year, being almost full to the brim (and it will make it to the brim before it is all said and done). There is still a lot of snow up high and the cooler weather this summer has kept the runoff manageable. If it had gotten hot and stayed hot... we would've been telling quite a different story.

 

The dogs use their time on the ferry well, to rest. They are always eager to go to the other side and they like the wind in their faces, the smell of fresh water in their noses.

 

Sometimes JC pilots the boat, and sometimes I go along just for the ride.

 

Sometimes with the sun and the rocking of the boat, one can get very drowsy...

 

So very drowsy...

 

What a life.

 

These dogs play hard and sleep hard up here.

 

Then as we start drawing near the mouth of Mono Creek we can begin to make out little shapes waiting patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) on the rocks...

 

And this is one of those years when there is no extra walking to get to the dock - it practically meets the trail.

 

Hikers, fishermen and women, dogs.... all are welcome on the Edison Queen.

 

And then we motor on back to our little outpost - to hot showers, cold beer, great food and company.

 

Happy Independence Day

From the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Pacific Crest Trail and John Muir hikers at the VVR

Edison Lake is positioned convenient to the PCT and JMT trails and a large part of the business here is resupplying, laundering, and feeding those hikers. An amazing variety of people pass through here on their way to Canada, or Tuolumne Meadow in Yosemite, or south to Mt. Whitney. They arrive dirty, hungry, tired and we like to think they leave cleaner, rejuvenated by the rest and the company, and not at all hungry. Feeding is much of what we do here - along with supplying some of the best micro-brews you can find on the trail.

 

Into these mouths disappear the many pies we bake and from these mouths we hear tales of the trail, tales of home (wherever that might be), and tales of friendships forged during the many days and weeks of being on the trail.

 

Families show up to camp and wait for the thru-hikers, spend a day or so with them before they are off to the next resupply, and it means a lot to the staff at the VVR to be able to support these hikers and families. In our hyper-connected world, these hikers choose NOT to be connected for days on end - instead to connect to their own rhythms, the passing of a day, a life spent outside. It is a very cool thing and a huge part of why we are here.

 

Once showered, satiated, and with beer in hand, many spend the evening around the nightly campfire. I've been planning for years to do a PCT fashion blog and the first summer I can be here consistently you'll see that appear. It is fascinating to watch them arrive with big packs, then re-appear in some completely unique combination of clothing and shoes (Crocs have been big for a couple of years - lightweight, practically indestructable, colorful) for relaxing in.

 

PCT hikers can put away an amazing amount of food at one sitting. I don't know what they live on out there on the trail but they are ravenous once they arrive here.

 

And, they like their pie. With beer, even.