I had had a very busy week at work. As the week progressed, the desire to get out into the mountains grew into a full-blown need.
Though I often like "mega" day hikes of 20 miles or so, the hectic work week subdued me. I wanted to hike about half that, and to find a trail closer to home than my usual destination, Yosemite. I dug out my 16 year old copy of Sierra North (Wilderness Press), and shopped for a trail, finally deciding on the trail from Silver Lake to Scout Carson Lake.
TRAIL STATISTICS
- Backpack or day hike
- 11 mile round trip
- 2,000' elevation (a gradual climb)
- Horse Canyon Trailhead (53 miles east of Jackson on Hwy 88/ .8 mile past Silver Lake. If the trailhead parking is full, park in the secondary parking 100 yards closer to Silver Lake). Permits are required for backpacking.
The trail starts as a gradual climb in a fir forest, and never gets too strenuous. You meander through the forest for the first couple of miles, with occasional views south to glistening Silver Lake, and north to the lava cliffs. I must admit that I wasn't expecting to be in the forest for that long, and was getting a bit impatient for some hiking above timberline.
But I reigned in my misconception and started paying more attention to the things that were at hand. Soon I spotted a quick flash of brilliant yellow and orange. I've seen Western Tanagers on only a few occasions, and I always get a thrill...I consider them to be one of the most attractive birds in the sierra.
I enjoy examining rocks, lichen, and to a lesser extent, flowers. This hike satisfied all of these interests. I was frequently in company of two very different types of rock: jagged lava and smooth, glacially polished granite. The granite made me feel "at home", as that is the predominate rock-type in Yosemite, where I do most of my hiking.
The granite boulder in the third picture from the top was captivating. I named it "The Thing" after the comic book hero of the same name. Next week I'll include a close-up of it and speculate how it formed; I say speculate because I am no expert. I will welcome input from others who know a little or a lot about geology. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to find a definitive answer by next week.
Ascending from the forest you traverse an open hillside and cross several small creeks. The flower display is quite impressive: Indian Paintbrush, lupine, columbine, daisies, mule's ear, snow plant, pussypaws, larkspur and others grace the hillside. The setting is fantastic: an array of delicate and colorful flowers dance merrily in the breeze, back-dropped by immovable, dark, and grotesque volcanic rock.
After 5 miles we come to a junction. Scout Carson Lake is 1/2 mile away, a number of campsites dotting the trail on the way. We go through forest, a small wet meadow and more forest before reaching the lake. I was a little surprised at the size of the lake. I think it would be more appropriate to call it Scout Carson Pond.
I sat by the lake and enjoyed my lunch, observing the birds and dragonflies while I ate. When I was ready I headed back refreshed, and glad that I had only 1 1/2 hour drive to get home.
My wife and I went to Yellowstone last month to see its wilderness; but we also made time in our schedule to visit its world-renown geyser, Old Faithful.
Before planning the trip, I assumed that Old Faithful was the one and only geyser in Yellowstone. While planning, I found out that Yellowstone has many more (there is more geothermal activity - over 10,000 features - in Yellowstone than the rest of the world combined). However, I still wasn't quite prepared for the abundance of geysers and other geothermal activity that we would encounter. I was really blown away.
While waiting for Old Faithful, we noted that a ranger walk was scheduled for about 20 minutes after the next eruption, so we decided to attend it. Walking to the starting point, we were thrilled with the geothermal activity that we passed. The basin surrounding Old Faithful has dozens, maybe hundreds of geysers, fumaroles, and hot springs. Being in the middle of the sound and sight of all this activity took my breath away.
During our Ranger Walk we were introduced to some fascinating geologic wonders. Hot springs a beautiful blue or green (from heat-loving micro-organisms living in them), fumaroles sending a steady stream of steam into the air, and of course, the geysers.
Many of the geysers had intriguing characteristics. Take Grotto Geyser. It's very odd shape (see middle image) has caused much speculation as to its origin. It is thought that Grotto Geyser formed between some old tree stumps; as time went on the tree stumps were covered with geyserite (geyser water contains dissolved rock. The topography that gets covered with geyser water eventually accumulates layers of this solidified rock, known as geyserite).
It seemed that each geyser we came to had its own unique and fascinating characteristics. I soon began to wonder why Old Faithful alone was so well known. It seemed rather ordinary. I immediately realized the answer to my own question: Because it can be predicted. People want to see a geyser erupt, and they can count on Old Faithful.
But what cause the geysers to erupt as they do? The following is taken word for word from Yellowstone National Parks official website (link below):
"Expanding steam bubbles generated from the rising hot water build up behind these constrictions [in the geysers "plumbing" on the way to the surface], ultimately squeezing through the narrow passageways and forcing the water above to overflow from the geyser. The release of water at the surface prompts a sudden decline in pressure of the hotter waters at great depth, triggering a violent chain reaction of tremendous steam explosions in which the volume of rising, now boiling, water expands 1,500 times or more. This expanding body of boiling superheated water bursts into the sky as one of Yellowstone’s many famous geysers."There is so much more to be said. What about the fumaroles, mudpots and hot springs? Why is all of this activity in the Yellowstone area? When I started this post I intended to delve into these areas, in fact, the title was going to be What Causes Yellowstones Geothermal Activity? But this post is already longer than I like. Follow this link to the National Park website that has links to all of these answers. It is fascinating reading, and is only the beginning.Above are pictures, from top to bottom, of Old Faithful, Grotto Geyser, and fumaroles alongside the river.
OK, OK, I'm sorry, I know that my title is not original (borrowed from an advertisement), but it is clever, and expresses how I feel about lichen.
Lichen first entered my conscious when I was but a boy...the same time that many of the wonders of nature that I am particularly fond of did. Also, as with many of such wonders, lichen first latched onto my soul during a visit to Yosemite.
I can still recall walking through an evergreen forest with my parents and siblings. The delightfully calming aroma of pine needles filling the air; the ground a soft carpet of decomposing forest duff...pine needles, pine cones, pieces of wood and bark and, wait, what's this? An "abstract art" looking life form, an almost fluorescent toothpaste green. They're dotting the trees about us, but I spot one on the ground. Picking it up, I find that this one too, is clinging to bark, but this bit of bark has fallen to the ground. Showing it to my mom, I learn that this beautiful little object is called lichen.
There are 3 types of lichen: crustose grow very closely to the rock and have no leaves, foliose have small leaves that grow up from the rock, and fruticose, which have little shoots growing up and often remind me of lilliputian forests, sometimes they hang off of trees and resemble spanish moss. This is my favorite type. There are between 18,000 - 25,000 species of lichen, depending on where you go for information. A new species of lichen (Altectoria sarmentosa) was found in Yosemite just a couple of years ago.
Lichen are beautiful, adding soft splashes of color - variety of color and texture to rock that often otherwise would be somewhat monotonous. When I see lichen I envision the Creator daubing the landscape here and there with His paintbrush.
What is more, they are fascinating, an amazing design. They are a composite organism of fungus and algae. Fungi can't make food on their own. They usually get their nourishment from acting as either decomposers or as parasites. In this symbiotic relationship fungi provide the "skin", allowing algae to grow where it otherwise could not, and algae provide the food through photosynthesis. They rely on light, air and minerals as food source, most of the minerals coming from rainwater. They play an important role in the ecosystem, breaking down rock so that mosses, and later, larger plants can get a foothold.
There is so much more that could be said about lichen, but an in-depth article about lichen is beyond the scope of this blog (if you want to learn more, check out these links: concord.org, University of Vermont and Yahoo Education.)
Why is it that little boys are so fascinated with plants and bugs that eat bugs? When I was young I was enthralled with Venus Flytraps (I even bought one once, and was very disappointed that it didn't "catch" any flies - even when I caught one and dropped it in its "mouth").
I was also fascinated with ladybugs, and even more so with Praying Mantises.
The Praying Mantis is an interesting insect. It has 5 eyes. The two large compound, prominent ones, and 3 "simple" eyes between them (you can make them out in the head shot. It can turn its' head 180 degrees and most commonly eats flies, moths, crickets, grasshoppers, etc.
The Praying Mantis catches its prey with its front legs, striking so quick that it really can't be seen with the naked eye. Their legs have spikes that assist in capturing their prey help enable them to turn their food (like eating corn on the cob:)).
During one of my filming trips to Yosemite Valley last year I spotted a praying mantis while shooting in one of the meadows. I desperately wanted to film the mantis for my DVD, but he/she was just too quick.
However, last week I found a mantis not far from my house, and took a few shots. They weren't around when I was growing up, but I see them every once in a while now. I had purchased a few mantis egg cases and put them in my garden in the mid '70's. Surely the population of mantises we have around here didn't all come from those few egg cases, did they?
Photography is a demanding art form. If you're into stamp collecting, painting, playing the violin or just about anything else, your passion is at your command. You engage in it when you want, and when you're tired, you stop. Not so with photography.
I had spent a long day at Tuolumne Meadows. I had enjoyed a full day of hiking in the wind and cold; bundled up my jacket as the hail began to fall. This added weather meant for some interesting shooting.
But now it was time to go home. I was happy and feeling at peace, but very tired.
As I began my 3 hour drive home I thought about whether I would stop at Olmsted Point (my favorite Tioga Rd pullout) when I got to it. No, I was very tired, I really wanted to get home. But then, as the road wound its way up toward the point, I noticed that the granite yet caressed by the setting sun was unusually orange and vibrant. The last thing I felt like doing was digging my camera and lenses out, but, like all photographers, I am a slave to that master, light. I couldn't bear the thought that this wonderful moment - the fading suns brief affair with the sierra landscape, this brilliant alpenglow - would escape my cameras lens.
Shortly I reached Olmsted Pt, hopped out of my car while grabbing my camera and had time to take just two images (this one looking toward Half Dome) before the brilliant orange and yellows turned gray.
So here I was - having just gotten back from a week in Yellowstone, consumed with the need to get to Yosemite. Why?
Yosemite is like home, and I felt a great need to see it. But what is more, while in Yellowstone I didn't have the opportunity to take any "Walkabouts", just short hikes of up to 7 miles. I felt the need to push my body.
But where to go? Yosemite Valley is notoriously busy in summer. Campfires turn the valley into a smoke-filled hell, the Valley's beautiful views ruined.
My preferred jump-off point in summer is Tuolumne Meadows. At about 9,000' elevation the snow is deeper and melts later than in the valley. Fewer people visit Tuolumne Meadows, making for a more laid-back experience.
This year we had been blessed with extra snow and a long, cool spring, which meant that rivers and waterfalls would be just about peaking in Tuolumne Meadows. My favorite water show here is the 18 mile round trip hike to LeConte Falls. This routes first 5 miles are relatively level - winding through granite bedrock, coniferous forests, and wide meadows dissected by the lazy (at this point) Tuolumne River. The final 4.5 miles drops 2,500', here the Tuolumne is anything but lazy as it changes - first to roaring river, then cascade, to waterfall - back again to cascade...and so on, an ongoing shuffling of water display that never fails to take your breath away.
Yes, with lots of melting snow and trails just opening up this would be the pick.
I got up at 3:00 a.m., had a big breakfast, packed my day pack and left, getting to the trail head at 7:00 a.m. It was a bright blue, cloudless day. Expecting swollen rivers, I brought my hiking poles and waterproof boots.
It was a good thing I did. Delaney Creek (which I usually wade through in fall) was raging. There was a sturdy log conveniently located that allowed for crossing. Other streams weren't as endowed however, and my boots and poles came in very handy, making it possible to use partially submerged rocks as "bridges".
It would seem that the extra heavy snow year had kept some people away, because I found uncommon solitude on this popular trail, encountering only 4 people during the 6 miles from Tuolumne Meadows to Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp, and no one from there to LeConte Falls. Though I knew that the river and falls would be more impressive than usual, I really wasn't prepared for the incredible roar of the water, its thunder reverberating through my body. Here I was, enjoying some of the best scenery on earth, prime time, and in solitude. Money can't buy anything better.
Topping out of Glen Aulin, I look down the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, the beauty so surreal, so perfect, I find that I can't hold back the tears. This, to me, rivals Yosemite Valley, certainly Little Yosemite Valley, and yet relatively few Yosemite visitors even know that it exists.
On the way to LeConte I pass California Falls and quite a few cascades and other falls. It's after 1:00 p.m. and I have to be back to my car by 8:00 to drop off some DVDs at the Evergreen Lodge store, so I pick up my pace and run to Waterwheel Falls.
LeConte is fascinating. The cascading, roaring water hits "pockets" in the sheer granite and shoots back up, making for a festive, happy water show.
After enjoying a late lunch I head back, running. About 3 miles from my car I enter a clearing next to the lazy Tuolumne and surprise a couple skinny-dipping on the other side of the clearing, right next to the trail. I turn my back long enough for them to get their clothes back on, then continue and get to my car by 7:00 p.m.; dog-tired and very hungry, but refreshed and satisfied. A hamburger and coffee at Bucks Meadow makes the perfect end of a fine day.
Credit: I had long mistaken LeConte for Waterwheel Falls. I want to thank bill-e-g and qumqats on the YosemiteNews forum for enlightening me.
P.S. The first few seconds of the video clip shows one of the many falls along my route, then fades to a pan of LeConte Falls.
I first visited Yellowstone 30 years ago (I use the term "visited" loosely. I traveled through with a family and we spent about a half a day in the park. We saw Old Faithful and the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone). Yellowstone is Huge, and the beauty of what I saw in those few hours ignited a spark in me that made me want to return.
However, returning wasn't going to be that simple. You see, I live near Yosemite, and that grand place has a tug on my soul that can't be ignored. So when I'm able to get out, my first thought always goes to Yosemite and it's granite cliffs and domes, it's awe-inspiring waterfalls.
But my lovely and patient wife finally decided that she wanted to go someplace different. If I had to choose someplace other than Yosemite, where would it be?
Yellowstone. That burning ember came quickly back to mind. I had paid rapt attention years earlier when I heard news of the wolves re-introduction to Yellowstone. You see, I love true wilderness, and wolves represent wilderness to me more than just about anything else. A decades old dream would come true, if only I could see some wolves in the wild. And to hear them howling? Wow! But how likely would this be? More on that later.
We spent our first day in the Canyon area (Grand Canyon of Yellowstone) and took a ranger-guided hike of its southern rim. We learned a lot about the geology of Yellowstone, what caused the canyon, how it was affected by the thermal features beneath it, the last glacier, and more (later in the week we hiked the North Rim Trail, where the middle two of these images were taken. Whenever it started to sprinkle we were amused to watch the "Vista Pull-Out Takers" rushing back to their cars, apparently afraid that they would melt in the rain). Ranger-guided tours are truly a wonderful resource. We also got to take an hour and a half walk of the Old Faithful area with a ranger, Terrance, and his knowledge and enthusiasm made for an extremely fascinating afternoon.
I made my way into Hayden Valley on an old trail, its' whereabouts gleaned from a helpful Yellowstone pro on the backpacker forum.I started early, and it was drizzling. Ahhh, perfect. The trail was a little mushy in spots, but I had been forewarned, so I wore my water-proof, all leather hiking boots. Not far into the hike I found that some buffalo had decided to take a rest just about 20' from the trail. Having had it drilled into my head how dangerous and unpredictable these animals can be, I detoured around them, giving them a birth of over 25 yards.Past the buffalo, I found myself constantly singing. You see, this is grizzly bear territory, and one of the best ways to avoid getting mauled is to make sure that you don't surprise them. Whenever I couldn't see around a corner or over a hill, I'd sing (maybe this is why people don't hike with me? :)). Of course I had bear spray, but I'd rather not have to use it.The Valley was wide and wild. As I looked at my feet I was mesmerized by the Lilliputian community of ferns, mosses and flowers.
We were fortunate enough to have some "bad" weather each day. I love some wind and rain. It adds character to the landscape, and what is more, sends many people scurrying inside. The next day I took the Lower Blacktail Deer Creek Trail into the Black Canyon of Yellowstone. I didn't find the trail itself all that fantastic, but the weather did make for some nice photo opps.
The wildflower display was quite nice. It seemed odd to be surrounded by wildflowers that were foreign to me. I knew some of the flowers: lupine, larkspur, and another flower that my wife and I thought was Mules' Ear, but turned out to be a close relative (the yellow flower here is Arrowleaf Balsaam Root).
The middle flower (pink) is Montana's State Flower, the Bitterroot. Small & delicate, it takes your breath away.
The flower on the bottom is Prairie Smoke, and it really caught my eye. The sun's rays caressed it gently, adding warmth to a thing of fragile beauty.
P.S. Thanks to Double Cabin & BackpackHNTR, both from the backpacker forum, for giving me an ID on the flowers.
The next day, since we were staying in the Tower-Roosevelt area, we spent the day exploring Lamar Valley, which is appropriately known as America's Serengeti, because of its abundance of wildlife.
Later that day, as the rain poured, we hiked up Specimen Ridge and got some wonderful views of the canyon's lower reaches. Also here, a layer of basalt was present (had also seen this in other places in the park). This layer looked like hexagonal columns of stone. They were formed when a several foot layer of molten lava cooled quickly.
Looking below, we also saw ospreys sitting on their nests, as well as a family of mountain sheep. The osprey were observable through binoculars, but too far away to get a descent picture of.
This family of mountain sheep weren't all that concerned about us, but the mother did lead her lambs to the cliff in short order. It amazed us, watching these ungainly looking animals as they easily maneuvered what appeared to us, to be a completely unnavigable cliff face.
Now back to the wolves. One of the many helpful members of the backpacker forum suggested that Lamar Valley was the place to find them. He said that the best way to do so was to take a ride down the valley and look for people with scopes, or for a vehicle with antennas. I never did see the vehicle, but I found a number of people with scopes, on the road to Slough Creek Campground. By the time we found them, it was the middle of the day, so we decided to return bright and early the next day. We returned around 7 a.m.
We were at a bit of a disadvantage because we only had binoculars. People with scopes were seeing wolves and pups playing. The wolves were too far away for us to see the pups..for that matter, we saw the adults only when they came completely out of the sagebrush and were fully exposed. One guy with a scope kept saying "I see an ear" or "Ohh, the pup is kissing its mom". We wanted to shove the scope down his throat :). But it was great to actually see a wolf. We saw a black one chase a raven that had been pestering them.
On our way back on another day I passed a "animal jam". Someone in another car told me that it was wolf pups. Very excited, I waited for a spot where I could pull completely off the road, and then ran back to the spot where the photographers were. Unfortunately, I only had my "point and shoot". I was a bit disappointed to find that the "wolf pups" were actually coyotes. Still, very enjoyable to watch them play and banter about. It was also a pleasure to get to know the photographers, who, like me, were more concerned about being courteous to fellow vacationers than getting the perfect shot.
We had seen many buffalo throughout our 7 days in Yellowstone. I had hoped to get a good shot of one, but each time we saw them from the car there was traffic behind us and I didn't want to force everyone to wait for my pleasure. The park warns that you should maintain a distance of at least 25 yards from buffalo, so when I was out of the car I was too far away from them to get a nice shot.
So, by our final day, Sunday, I had given up hope of shooting buffalo. Then as we came over a hump in Hayden Valley we gasped to find that a buffalo herd was in the process of crossing the road right in front of us. Soon we found ourselves in the midst of the herd. The lighting wasn't great for shooting, but of the 30 or so images I shot in quick succession I got about 5 worth keeping.
As soon as the herd passed, I pulled off to the side of the road, got out and clicked a few shots as they left.
Yellowstone is a very special place. I don't believe I will ever find a location that will knock Yosemite out of First Place in my heart; but in visiting Yellowstone my heart was forced to make room, lots of room, for a place outside of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.
