All content on this page is copyright © Paul J. Lorona 2008. Please do not use images from this page without written permission.
Uncredited images are by Paul using a Canon EOS 20D digital SLR with the Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS lens.
Images credited to Vicky taken with a Canon SD950IS digital ELPH.
Images credited to Gloria taken with a Canon A95 digital.
Good times, it seems, are often followed by not so good times. Or to put a different spin on it, sometimes were blessed with a little bit of joy and decompression in the midst of some pretty heavy stuff. Either way you look at it, for the moment you may find yourself with a smile on your face and a lightness of heart that is refreshingly unfamiliar. Such moments are to be cherished in the heart, and shared with family and friends. Hence this bit of history from Easter Break 2008.
It had been a tough winter. My folks had moved from the "Sangra" down to Orange County, and that operation took months to prepare for, and more months to help them get settled in to their new home. As I assemble this page we're still helping them with unpacking, furniture, upgrades to the home, and other not-so-incidentals that crop up. So after almost a year of work on that project, we were ready for a bit of a break in the wide open. Especially me.
Of course we picked on the Owens Valley. We've been going there every Easter Break for several years now, and we saw no reason to break that tradition this year. With the price of gasoline at $4.00 per gallon, the fact that the Owens Valley is not terribly far away helps quite a bit. Our old beast works hard towing our trailer around, and barely gets into the double-digit mileage figures doing it. Trips out of state have become prohibitively expensive, the proximity of the Owens Valley looks better and better as the prices soar.
Too, the OV is sparsely populated and generally ignored by most sentients, a fact I appreciate. I enjoy being out in the open, unencumbered by the masses that clog the arteries of our homeland in soCal. In the OV we can go for hours without seeing another biped soul, although we are constantly surrounded by and reminded of the local quadruped inhabitants. I enjoy their company.
On our first day there we intentionally did very little. It was Sunday, the Lord's day of rest, but I don't know that this fact had anything to do with anything. I think we were all hoping to catch our collective breath and perhaps our thoughts, as well. In order to facilitate this, and clear some old data out of our heads, Adam and I took a walk across the valley floor away from camp, hoping for some different views of things.
The above is a view of the eastern Sierra from near the north shore of Owens Lake. The Lake had water in it, a result of the ongoing litigation involving LADWP and the many factions that want to restore the valley, or at least the Owens River, to it's former hydrated existence.
Adam and his constant companion, his Canon Rebel XT. Here he is shooting with the Sigma 18-125mm F3.8-5.6 DC OS HSM lens. We are at the northwest corner of Owens Lake, looking south-southwest. The spine of the eastern Sierra trails off into the distance some 50 miles away.
My happy crew, Adam, Vicky, and Katie. It is Sunday evening, and we are getting ready to head into town for dinner. Yes, Vicky really is shorter than all of her pups. Adam is 5' 10", Katie is a fraction of an inch shorter than Adam.
Vicky
Sunset in the Owens Valley. There is a bit of moisture in the air, just enough to create the effect Vicky captured here.
Adam and his camera system. He is quite the photographer, and getting better with his imaging equipment and software all the time. (His work is at Photobucket. There's a lot there, don't say I didn't warn you! ) Our first day's adventure is about to begin.
Mount Whitney, highest point in the continental United States at 14,505 feet (4,421 m). Whitney is the triangular shaped chunk of rock to the right of the "needles" near the center of the picture. Because Whitney sits farther west than many of it's companion peaks it is often overlooked by observers because it appears "shorter" than the others. This view looks up the drainage of Lone Pine Creek, the view looks almost due west. Taken with a polarizing filter.
Lone Pine Peak dominates the skyline at 12,942 feet (3945 meters), while below the elder coyotes and their Jeep Cherokee await a radio call from us as to what's at the top of the trail. We are at 6,207 feet on top of the northernmost peak in the Alabama Hills, looking southwest. Hogback Creek is in the right center of the picture, and the Alabama Hills stretch out of the field of view to the left. Our trail climbed up out of the valley below.
Gloria
Two coyotes and a Fox! Taken atop the northernmost peak in the Alabama Hills.
My father using his new digital camera, another Rebel XT like Adam's, while our vehicles cool and await the continuation of our adventure. This view also looks southwest towards the eastern Sierra.
Gloria
The first misadventure. Goodyear Wranglers may be good tires, but those of you who have explored my albums know that this isn't the first off-road tire failure we've experienced on them. This was like the last one in Colorado, a sidewall failure thanks to a sharp rock in the trail. This event bugged enough that the next day we ventured up the highway to Bishop, where my father shelled out some coin for a set of four brand new Goodrich All Terrain tires. I've been running the Goodrich All Terrains on my trucks for a couple of decades now, and have had very little trouble with them, especially now that they are the new KO series with the strengthened sidewalls. Surprisingly, the Goodrich ATs ride smoother than the Goodyear Wranglers on the Cherokee.
With minimal fussing and some old fashioned sweat we had the spare on before too much time had passed, and we headed on down the trail.
An interesting view courtesy of my Fox. That's my folks Cherokee in the mirror, following us back down. The horizon in the background gives you an idea of the slope we're on.
The view through the windshield. Mount Whitney is partially hidden by the eastern-most peaks, just to the left of center on the horizon. Lone Pine Peak is on the left, Mount Williamson (14,389 feet) is on the far right. Williamson is the second highest peak in the Sierra, sixth highest in the lower 48 states. The mountain is named after Lt. Robert Stockton Williamson (1825-1882), who conducted one of the Pacific Railroad Surveys in Southern California in the 1850s.
Gloria
This is the view from my parent's Jeep Cherokee as we negotiate the terrain. This was taken at approximately the same time as the picture above. Again, the horizon gives an indication of the slope of the terrain.
Vicky
We always strive to meet some family on our trips. This little lady came out to bid us a brief hello as we crunched through the snow near Parchers Camp on the South Lake Road. We never did get to South Lake, deep snow blocked our access.
Vicky
She wasn't too interested in striking up a conversation, I think she was more interested in lunch. So we left her to her own devices and moved on.
Vicky
Sunset cast an evening glow to the clouds over Owens Valley. This view looks north from our camp near Owens Lake. It was hot and dry with clear skies when we arrived Sunday, but by mid week the clouds and wind had come up, and it cooled considerably. A few sprinkles fell up in the north end of the valley while we were in the mountains southwest of Bishop.
Vicky
Another friend greeted us first thing in the morning as we were loading up. Taken near the highway junction below Lone Pine.
Gloria
Mid-day the next day found us at the foot of Long John Canyon. The quest was to find the Black Warrior Mine, but nature would intervene. Here my father and I evaluate the trail and our options as we make a crossing of the wash draining Long John Canyon. This view looks northeast into the Inyo Mountains.The trial was rough in stretches, especially for us with the long wheelbase beast, but not challenging or difficult. From here Long John Canyon curves around to the right (south) past the first ridge of hills. New York Butte (10,606 feet) is just out of the image to the right.
My mom taking it all in while we try and figure out where to cross. View looks southwest across the southern Alabama Hills towards the eastern Sierra.
Gloria
See? Males do in fact use maps. On occasion. The old coyote gets his bearings in Long John Canyon. View looks northwest, Mount Williamson in the eastern Sierra is on the left in the background.
This was as far as we got in Long John Canyon. Here we have already turned around after climbing as far as we could get to another washout. This one had banks a little too steep for us to negotiate with the relatively shallow approach and departure angles the beast possesses. View looks west-northwest, the city of Lone Pine is visible in the far left center at the base of the Alabama Hills. There are too many peaks on the skyline to list, but Whitney and Williamson are among those in this field of view.
Vicky
A happy moment in Long John Canyon.
After descending the wash out of Long John Canyon we doubled back to the southeast just before coming to the site of the old Mount Whitney station on the Carson and Colorado Railroad. In a secluded little valley at the base of a mountain called The Haystack we found a place to rest ourselves and our machines. Here Granny and Grandpa take five in the deep shadows above and behind the hood of the beast. I must confess that they and The Fox and I lubricated ourselves with some good old cold beer while we stayed here.
Looking north from our impromptu camp at the base of The Haystack, this view is a 180 degree turn from the preceding view. Beyond the rocks in the foreground Lone Pine is to the left, Long John Canyon to the right. The Sierra stretches away towards Bishop in the distance. Taken with a polarizing filter, which accounts for the seeming darkness of the sky in the upper right corner of the image.
Adam taking in the view. He climbed several feet up the rock face of The Haystack, which accounts for the angle. I was below him and fully zoomed to get this image, which has been cropped as he took up a very small portion of the original.
The next day dawned cool, cloudy, and windy. We are in the next canyon north of Long John Canyon in the Inyo Mountains, our quest that day was the Duarte Mine, near French Spring. This canyon has no name that I've been able to discern, but drains the mountains below Forgotten Pass. Perhaps that means something, I don't know.
Vicky
In any event, we were again foiled by the terrain and weather-induced impacts thereupon. The road was washed out to the extent that we'd have dragged some steel on rock in the beast, thanks again to it's long wheelbase.
Vicky
Here two generations of coyotes check out the end of our trail. What is supposed to be our road climbs out of the wash to the left and goes between me and the left edge of the picture into the distance. Don't feel bad if you can't see it, there isn't much road / trail to see at this point. Few had traveled beyond this washout, and by the tracks it appeared that what few vehicles did get past here were ATVs.
Vicky
Another evening scene by my Fox's paw. The southern Inyo Mountains with the shadow of the eastern Sierra upon them, mere minutes before sundown. View looks east-northeast. The canyon we tried to go up this day is in the center of the picture, Long John Canyon is on the right.
Morning, and my mom and I are gathering our tools for the day. Our goal this day is to explore an old railroad grade.
Gloria
Just north of the site of Kearsarge, over the ridge to the west of Mazourka Canyon, lay the ruins of several small mines, among them the Green Monster Mine. This area provided lots of opportunity to explore, which is exactly what my pups are doing here, exploring the tailings dump of an old mine shaft.
On the high line, the remnants of the old Carson and Colorado railroad grade. This view looks south-southeast from just south of the site of Kearsarge, on the eastern floor of the valley east of the town of Independence. The bulk of the Inyo Mountains fill the sky in the background. The tallest peak is Mount Inyo at 11,107 feet, in the top center of the image.
The C&C built into the area in 1883, and was a narrow gauge line (36 inches between the rails) built from Mound House, Nevada to Keeler, California. It connected with the famous Virginia & Truckee Railroad at it's northern terminus in Nevada. In 1900 it was sold to the Southern Pacific Railroad, a gentleman by the name of R.J. Laws was it's superintendent at the time. A town bearing his name is located just east of present day Bishop, and in that town can be found the last remnant of the C&C / SP's narrow gauge operations. Donated by the Southern Pacific to Inyo County and the city of Bishop in 1964, it became the Laws Museum. The Southern Pacific went the way of the dinosaur itself, being absorbed into the giant Union Pacific system in 1996.
Vicky
My dad surveying the high line of the Carson & Colorado. 82 years old and still four-wheeling!
Vicky
Adam, near the Green Monster Mine
Vicky
A hundred and twenty five years ago Owens Valley was a fertile agricultural area with many small farms and orchards dotting the landscape. A hundred years ago that changed with the advent of the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power and the construction of the Los Angeles Aqueduct, the first part of which was completed in 1913. The history of the LADWP and the Aqueduct is checkered with nefarious activities, the severity of which depends on who is relating them and where they happen to live. But the long and short of it is that the Owens Valley became a desert quickly when all it's water went south to the millions in Los Angeles.
Here we see a leftover of the bygone era when Owens Lake was a navigable body of water and when the valley produced it's own food. This is what's left of the Moiver Canal, northeast of the site of Kearsarge and near the Green Monster Mine. Even now, all these years later, small flowers grow in abundance in the canal bed, sparsely elsewhere.
View looks northwest in the general direction of Big Pine.
Vicky
Adam and my father discuss the view as we look west across the Owens Valley into the heart of the Sierra.
Peaks in this view include (from left to right) Mount Bradley (13,289 feet), Independence Peak (11,744), Kearsarge Peak (12,598), Mount Mary Austin (13.048), and Mount Baxter (13,125). The road to Onion Valley climbs into the Sierra above the roof of the Jeep, the tiny community of Independence is above the beast's roof line.
Vicky
Katie pausing in her explorations at the Moiver Canal.
The Marines came by to say hello while we were out along the eastern banks of the Owens River. They were heading southbound, on the east side of highway 395. The pilots were probably flying IFR (I Follow Roads). View looks southwest.
Vicky
Not too long after the Marines left we had our next misadventure. This one took a little more time to deal with, as we couldn't unstick the Jeep from the ditch it slid into. We tried, but eventually had our buddies from Miller Tow come out to give us a bit of help. A damaged tie rod kept the Jeep off line for the rest of the trip, and we put tails between legs and headed back to camp that night in a crowded beast.
Dawn on our last day in the valley. The sun is cresting the Inyos in the east, and the new light is just beginning to fall on the Sierra in the west. The Alabama Hills in the foreground are still deep in shadow.
Vicky
Ready for the trip home.
So we returned to soCal a little bruised equipment-wise, but nobody got hurt and the damage was quickly repaired. Both the beast and the Jeep earned a new set of stripes thanks to some brush, and the Jeep got a new set of tires out of the deal as well.
Shortly after our return my father's diagnosis was made official, we learned that he is indeed in the early stages of Alzheimer's Disease. So the lessons of this trip were hammered home all the more with that bit of news. Live each day for the day. Take what comes, deal with it, put it behind you, and move on. Take your joys when and where you find them, for they may be fleeting, and we may not pass this way again.
Thanks for riding along with us.