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Dick's
Adventures of 2016 - Part 5 |
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Adventures
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Rancheria
Falls Courtright Car Camp
Back to Courtright |
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Rancheria Falls
On Saturday, July 9, not
wanting to walk the Clovis trails for the 100th time, I packed a
lunch and drove to the
Rancheria Falls trailhead near Huntington
Lake. I had been there for the first time ever with the Ramblers on June
15, but wanted to get another look before the water level drops
too much. Although I got a fairly
early start, the parking lot was nearly full when I get there,
unlike the previous trip when we were the second car there. As I
started out, a group of about 20 was coming out. I saw another group
of at least 15, and several parties of 5 to 10. In all there were
well over 100 people on the trail at different times.
This is a short, easy
trail, rising up gradually along the side of a steep slope, then
going around to the south and down into the canyon of Rancheria
Creek. The very first part of the trail is slightly steep, and there
is another steeper stretch just before the high point. It's wide
and there are few rocky places, and most of the time I would have
been fine with no hiking poles. I took just one pole because I was
carrying a larger camera than usual, and wanted to be less
encumbered. The single pole was more than adequate in the
"difficult" spots.
When I got to
the falls,
it was immediately obvious that the flow had diminished since we
were there three weeks earlier. The water runs over a wide cliff, but
the right side of the lip of the falls is slightly higher than the
left, and the lower water flow provided just a trickle on the right,
effectively reducing the width of the falls by nearly half.
Even so, it was a
spectacular sight, and if I had not seen it earlier, I would still
have thought it one of the better small waterfalls in the Sierra.
Needless to say I took
some time to take a close look at the flowers
along the trail. The
bud-like blossoms that had covered some low bushes along much of
the trail three weeks earlier were gone, but there were flowers that
either were new or had gone unnoticed on the
previous trip. Actually
the most spectacular flowers were a number of large patches of blue
blossoms a mile or two below Huntington Lake. Research shows that
these are either azure or royal penstemon.
I spent at least
20 minutes at the falls, resting and taking pictures, then started back
out. When I got back out to the highway, instead of heading for home
I turned right and drove up the Kaiser Pass Road
a few miles. I knew there was a place where the falls are visible
from that road, but my recollection was that the view was not very
good. In fact, there is an excellent view of the falls and the
cascades below it, from the top to well down the canyon. My previous
views had been when the water was much lower, so the falls did not look like much,
but with a good flow of water, the view was very nice, and I took a number of photos
there. You can also see the entire
lake from this area. A special treat was seeing a sailboat
race in progress on the lake, especially since this event was
cancelled last year due to low water.
Heading back down,
I drove into the Potter
Pass Cutoff trailhead, hoping to find a shady place to eat
lunch. There were no parking spaces except in the sun, and no
suitable lunch spots, so I headed back to the highway. As I drove in two young men with very large, heavy-looking backpacks were walking out.
When I drove back out, they were on the road, hitchhiking toward Huntington, so I
offered them a ride.
I planned to find a place to eat near the lake, so I told them I could take them as far as Huntington Lake. They did not know Huntington from Lake Michigan, but I moved my stuff off the seats, and we got their packs in the back, pretty much filling it up.
They were looking at their map but could not find Huntington (it was just off the edge of the map). They said,
"We just need to get to the nearest main highway; we're trying to get to Mono Hot Springs."
Mono is about 20 miles from where were, on the east side of Kaiser
Pass, so I explained that they needed to go in the opposite
direction. They
retrieved their packs and put them back on.
I asked where they were coming from. "We started in Mexico; we've gone 800 miles."
"Where are you headed?"
"We have only four more weeks; we're just going to go as far as we can."
They walked off up the road, still hoping for a ride, and I went in the opposite
direction, regretting that I didn't think to ask where they were from.
A short distance down the
road is the Midge Creek Group
Camp, so I drove in there. I found
many picnic tables and no people, so I got out my ice chest and
enjoyed lunch there in the shade. Walking around the campground, I discovered
that there was a partial view of Rancheria Falls if you stood in
just the right spot.
The hike to the falls is
fairly short, just 1.5 miles round trip, but I had another short
excursion planned that brought my total to two miles. Below the dam
that holds back Shaver
Lake, about 20 miles below Huntington, there
is a small, rugged
dome. The creek that flows out of the lake runs
beside this feature, and I have wanted to explore it ever since I
first drove by there almost 50 years ago. In those days I thought about
climbing to the top, but my rock scrambling days are over. However,
I discovered a narrow, rough path down from the road, and followed
it along the creek for a ways. There is a tiny concrete dam holding
back a small pool, with a tall, narrow structure next to it. Most
likely this is or was used to measure the flow of the stream.
Once I finished my
explorations, I returned to the car and continued on down the
mountain and back home, having enjoyed a little walking and a lot of
beautiful mountain scenery.
--Dick Estel, July 2016
Rancheria Falls Photos |
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Courtright
Car Camp
There are a few places
I'd like to visit that are not suitable for motor home camping,
either because the road or campground does not allow vehicles the
size of mine, or because the location requires the ability to move
about in a vehicle less cumbersome than an RV.
I have slept in the back
of my truck, which has a bed cover that rises about a foot above the
top of the bed, and getting in and out to go to the bathroom was a
challenge. The back seats of my Honda CR-V fold down, creating a
fairly long luggage area, and a few months ago I climbed in and lay
down to test it. It's about a foot shorter than I am, but I sleep on
my side with my knees folded up, so I thought it might work.
I have been wanting to
camp at Courtright
Reservoir, and decided to put my theory to a practical test with
a one-night trip. If it didn't work out, I would have only one bad
night.
So on August 17 I loaded
up sleeping bag, air mattress, ice chest, food and other travel
necessities, and got started at 7:30 a.m. for the 75 mile drive into the mountains. Courtright is located at 8,000 feet
on Helms Creek in the Kings
River's north fork drainage. The route is up
Auberry Road or Highway 168 to just past Prather, then up the 10
mile long 4-lane section of the highway, which takes you from about
2,000 feet to 4,000 feet elevation. The next six miles are on a winding two-lane
road from Cressman's, a gas and grocery stop, to Shaver Lake, then east 15 miles to Dinkey
Creek, and another 24 miles to Courtright.
My first stop was at the
top of the 4-lane, where there is a vista point that has been
re-built over the last year or so. It is now much more convenient to
use, with a large viewing platform below the parking area, but sadly
the view is almost always very hazy. If you are lucky enough to
arrive on a clear day, you can see the peaks of the Kings Canyon
National Park back country, but I have not been lucky for several
years.
At the bottom of the
4-lane, I noticed the unmistakable late summer aroma of tarweed,
a plant ubiquitous in the Sierra foothills, and soundly hated by
landowners. As I approached Cressman's, I noticed a cloud of dust rising beyond the store, and entering
the heavily forested section between there and Shaver Lake, I
recognized the smell of sawdust. Dust and smell were clear evidence
of tree cutting, probably to remove trees killed by drought and
beetles. There are piles of cut logs at several locations along the
road, and some visible in the forest above the route.
Along the last stretch of
the trip, a few miles before the lake, there is another vista point,
offering a much closer view of some of the Sierra's highest peaks - the LeConte
Divide, in the John Muir Wilderness. The massive and magnificent
Mt. Goddard
is visible at the south end of the divide, but apparently not
considered part of it; it's described as being on the Goddard
Divide. Due to the early hour, with the sun above the divide, the
view was very hazy. I actually hiked to the top of the LeConte
Divide, through Hell for Sure Pass, in
1981, but that's the type of hike I can no longer accomplish.
I arrived at the
lake a little before 10:30, after a slow journey of 75 miles. I
stopped beside the lake for a few minutes to take some photos of
what I believe is the most scenic man-made lake in the Sierra. The
road crosses the dam and goes about a mile beyond to the Maxson
Trailhead. The first quarter mile of this section is a one-lane
road. At the dam you can clearly see if anyone is coming, but beyond
this spot there are a couple of blind curves. The only saving grace
is that the condition of the road is such that all sensible people drive
very slowly.
My daughter Teri had
camped in this area with her motor home earlier this summer, and
described a large, flat granite area close to the trailhead that was
perfect for RV parking. I reasoned that it would work equally well for car
camping. There's always the danger that the place you want is
already taken, so on the way in, I kept an eye out for possible
alternate campsites, spotting quite a few that would have been
acceptable.
As I approached the
trailhead,
I was able to easily find the area where I thought she camped,
but I later learned that this area was occupied when she was
there, and she was actually across the road somewhere.
I could have enjoyed my
trip just sitting and reading and gazing in wonder at the
scenery,
but this is a trailhead after all, and I planned to hike more or
less the same route we followed in
June when I was there with my daughters, grandson Mikie, and Wes. I already had
my water bladder filled and in my backpack, and I didn't need to do
much more than put on my boots to be ready to hike. I didn't unload
anything at this time except my lawn chair, and not long after
arriving, I was on the trail.
This
trailhead is the starting point for an endless array of Sierra
destinations. The 4-wheel drive road, known as the Dusy-Ershim
Trail, goes 33 miles to the White
Bark Vista Point above Kaiser Pass. Recommended driving time is
two to three days. Hikers have a wide selection of trails to choose
from. On my second-ever backpack
trip, I hiked in on this trail, over the ridge to the northeast,
then south to the river, an 11-mile trip one way. Later I
hiked with Teri's future husband and a friend to several
beautiful lakes, and up to the top of Hell for Sure
Pass, which goes over the LeConte Divide. Trails branch off to
other destinations all along these routes.
You have two choices when
starting a hike at the Maxson trailhead - you can go down the 4-wheel route, which is steep
and rocky, or down a foot trail, slightly less steep and moderately
less rocky. The foot trail joins the 4-wheel road after a hundred yards
or so, at which point the road begins to level off. There is a
fairly long section where you could drive a passenger car, although
you could not get to that section without bottoming out and becoming
stuck against rocks. This part is almost completely level, and is
mostly through forested terrain, with some open granite
slopes on the west side in a few places.
Eventually there is
another fork in the trail, with the jeep road going uphill to the west and
north, while the foot trail stays in the bottom of the level valley
and continues in a mostly northerly direction. For some distance
there is a boardwalk across an area that can be quite swampy in the
spring, but was dry during my hike. This walkway, which did not
exist during my first hikes in the area, is made of logs and
requires some careful walking, especially in places where the wood
has started to rot
away. Even in dry times, this area is lined with
flowers, thanks to the moisture from earlier in the season.
There is a dome west of
the trail which I have named Constant
Dome, because it is visible
almost constantly from the trailhead to my final destination about a
mile in. From the start it looks like a fairly typical rounded dome.
As you hike, the angle changes, and when you get about a third of
the way in, it can be seen that it's a very long granite
ridge,
still well-rounded, but longer than a typical dome. From the
northern point of my hike, it looked like a rugged rock mountain
top,
and its dome characteristics are not readily apparent. I decided to
take photos of it all along the way, so I could put together a
sequence of photos that showed its different looks.
There's another granite
dome formation on the
east side, above the parking area, that is visible from many places on the
trail. Where I camped, there was a small
but steep, narrow canyon between my position and the domes. I have
pondered whether to call this Double Dome or
Triple
Dome, but have
settled on the latter. From some views, two domes appear to be close
together, with the other one separated some distance. From the
opposite view, they appear more like one three-part formation. (Two
weeks later, after viewing the formation from new angles, I decided
the smaller dome was separate. The two upper domes then became Double
Dome, and the lower one Hopeless
Dome. Read more about this below.)
I took quite a few photos
of these domes, some of which show only the upper two domes. From my
camp the highest dome was almost hidden behind the middle one which
was directly in front of it, while the third and smaller dome was
off to the right (south).
As you come off the
boardwalk, the trail jogs to the northeast across a meadow. It was
green and had a flowing stream when we were here in June, but is now
very dry and golden brown. I followed the trail into the meadow as
far as a little bridge over the creek. It was the perfect height
from the ground to sit on with my feet where the water would be, so
I took off my pack, had a snack, and rested for ten minutes or so.
To the west of the trail along this
stretch is
a huge section of granite bedrock, probably 200 yards wide and
close to a quarter mile long. It rises in a moderate slope from just
above the trail, then almost levels off to a slight incline. It's
covered with large and small
boulders, carried along by glaciers, and left where
they were when the last of the ice melted. The bedrock is scoured with
lines showing the direction the ice traveled, and mostly covered
with glacial
polish. I've considered several names for the place, including
the Giant Marble Game, but I think I'm going to settle on the Big
Granite Slope. When I hadn't been here for a number of years, I
pictured it as being flat, but it's never actually horizontal, and
begins to level off only at the
very top.
This area fascinated me
when I first came to Courtright around 1969, and it still
does. On any hike in this area, I always plan to spend some time there, taking photos and just enjoying the wonders of what rock and
ice and time can do. This
time I decided I would go to the northern edge of the rock,
something I had not done in the past. The meadow is not far from
that end, so I made the short walk from the dry grass through the trees to the base of the rock, and started up. It's not a difficult
climb, but there is enough uphill that I needed to walk slowly and
rest frequently. This worked out well, since there was something that
required closer examination and/or a photo every few feet.
With the passing of
10,000 years since the last ice age, large sections of glacial
polish have been worn away, exposing a slightly rougher surface with
a lighter color. As I made my way up, I noticed that
there was much more "wear and tear" on the steeper lower
section than near the top, no doubt due to rock being washed down the
slope at greater speed in the steep sections. It also seemed that
there were many more smaller rocks on the upper section, whereas
these tend to be washed down or otherwise roll down the steeper part
of the slope.
The four wheel drive road
runs across the upper part of the rock, with blue reflective dots
marking the way. At the very top of the rock the terrain becomes
mostly level forest, and at the northwest corner (upper right as I
faced the slope from the bottom) the road leaves the rock and
becomes a tree-lined, smooth dirt road that looks like you could
drive your Honda on it. Of course, there are many places between
there and the trailhead where your Honda would be in serous trouble,
and the smooth dirt section becomes steep and rocky in short order.
I started my return trip
walking south along the upper edge of the rock, going into the woods
here and there, checking out interesting rocks and
trees and
logs,
essentially following the 4-wheel drive route. At the southwest
corner of the rock, the road goes into the woods, but there is
nothing smooth about this part of the route. The road drops down to
the bottom of the little valley, with a number of steep, rocky
sections. At one point some drivers have tried to go around a
particularly challenging
spot, but the alternative route does not
look any better to me. As is usually the case, walking on this
stretch was much easier than driving it would have been.
On my hikes, I try to get
at least one photo of
myself, so I can prove I was really there. I'm not going to
carry a heavy tripod, so this usually involves balancing my camera on a rock, sometimes
leveling it with twigs or pebbles. On this hike I took more photos
of myself than ever before, thanks to a mini-tripod my younger
daughter Jennifer gave me for my birthday. The legs are flexible and
can be wrapped around objects to help hold the camera, and it is
very small and light, so much so that after the first time I used
it, I just left it on the camera.
I arrived back at camp
about 2 p.m., having covered a little over three miles. At the
meadow rest stop I ate only half of an energy bar, so I was ready for lunch. First I
had to find a place to set up my table and unload what I needed. The
large granite area where I was parked offered no shade, so I looked
around the edges for a suitable area. The closest possible shady spot was
very rocky, but a little below the open area was a nice level spot
surrounded by trees. I realized I could drive down fairly close, and even though
it was uneven dirt and rock, I was able to position the car so it
was level for sleeping purposes.
I had to carry my table,
chair and food about 15 feet or so, and got set up, made a sandwich,
and enjoyed my main meal of the day. Later I would just snack on
nuts and stuff. After eating, I inflated my air mattress and tried
napping, without much success. I also sat and read for a while, then
put my boots on for another hike.
This time my destination
was closer and on the road instead of a trail. Along the road
between the dam and the trailhead there is an area where you can
observe geological evidence of nearly every stage of development of
the Sierra Nevada. There is a parking area and bench to rest on, and
signs that explain the geological development of the range. I walked
out from the road toward a couple of domes and what appeared to be a
cliff edge. As I got closer I could see that I was approaching the
rim of the small, deep canyon of Helms Creek below the dam. I could
not get close enough to see the bottom of the gorge, but had
good views down the canyon and into an area across and above Helms
Creek which I believe is known as Lost
Canyon. This is the place where the Helms Pumped Storage Project underground power house
is located, and it is accessible only by a private, gated road.
I could also see the top
of the dam to the north, and close at hand a rocky ridge and a dome
that dropped off steeply into Helms Canyon. It looked like it would
not be too hard to hike up the ridge and out to the top of the dome,
but it was late in the day, I had already hiked nearly four miles,
so I realized this was a destination for another day.
Walking along the road
back to camp I had a great view of the LeConte Divide, as well as
lots of intriguing areas with granite boulders and juniper
trees.
Between the time I first walked out there and my return trip, someone had set up a tent along side
the road about half way back to my camp.
When I made my first
hikes in this area in the 1970s and early '80s, the present
trailhead parking lot did not exist. Hikers had to park at the dam
and begin their trek there, adding a mile to any trip. The lot was
there when my daughter and her husband started going back in their
4-wheel drive vehicles, and I went with them several times around the
turn of the century. The "new" trailhead has paved
parking with a restroom and room for a lot of vehicles, including horse
trailers. I don't know how much parking room there
is, but when I walked there the next morning, I counted over 20
vehicles, and there were still plenty of spaces available.
My
walk to the canyon edge concluded my hiking
for the day, although I did take a few short walks around the area
where I was parked. I also set up my chair where I had a nice view
of Double Dome to the east. I sat there reading and watching the
changing light on the domes and the ridge to the southeast above the
north fork of the Kings River. At
about 7:30 there was just a faint bit of pink light on the
very top of Double Dome, and the ridge was tinged with pink but
quickly turning gray.
At 8 p.m., with the
temperature at 62 degrees, I glanced
up from reading and was blown away by the sight of a huge,
yellow full moon just above the Kings ridge. I realized there would not
be much stargazing that night, but the moon would be brilliant.
In fact, the moon
lit up the area so well that I did not need a flashlight when I got
up during the night, and it kept the two closest domes lit up all
night. Unfortunately, I was awake enough times to enjoy the
moonlight more than I wanted, since my sleeping arrangements proved
to be less than ideal. Eventually I opened the hatchback and
attached a bunji cord to keep it open about six inches, which
allowed me to stretch out reasonably well, although nothing could be
done about the fact that an air mattress is just not the same as my
customized queen size bed at home.
I went to bed earlier
than usual, about 9 p.m., but didn't really get any extended sleep
time till after midnight. When I checked the temperature at 4 a.m.,
it was 37 degrees with a strong breeze, but I was warm inside
in my sleeping bag.
I woke up around 7 a.m.
with the sun coming up over the domes to the east, and the weather
still cold enough that I wore jeans and several layers for a while.
I walked to the parking area to use the restroom, a nice early
morning exercise of about a third of a mile.
For
breakfast I had brought cereal in a
bowl, covered with aluminum foil, so I only had to add milk and
breakfast was ready. By the time I finished eating, I was ready to take off my flannel shirt. It was warming
up fast, and I could tell that it would be back to shorts and
t-shirt for hiking. I don't like to exercise right after eating, and
had a fairly ambitious hike planned, so I first did some reading and
then got most of my stuff
loaded up. In order to convert the back of the car to a bedroom, I had piled my
ice chest, food box and luggage in the front seat.
My goal for the day was
relatively short in distance but it would be a challenging effort.
Across the road from my camp was a rocky hillside. It consisted of
ledges and small
cliffs, and was strewn with boulders large and
small, with
scattered junipers, lodgepole pines and Jeffrey pines. It was fairly
steep, but I knew I could zig zag my way up, following the rock
fractures and making my way around vertical areas. I was pretty sure
that I would be able to see the lake from the top.
Looking up at the top
from the road, I estimated it would take about an hour to complete
my ascent, keeping in mind how many times I would stop to take
photos. About half way up I encountered an ancient, gnarly dead
juniper, with a young, full-looking companion. It was set against a
cliff about 15 feet high, and on top of the cliff were two other
junipers displaying the typical rugged look of this species. I got
some good photos of the dead tree by itself, and with its
companions.
When I got up to the top
of the cliff, I got some nice close-up photos of the weathered trunk
of the living junipers. Then I went a few steps farther to the old
ghost tree, where I was looking at the top half from about eight
feet way. The upper part of the tree was partly covered in bright
green moss.
This area was what
appeared to be the top when I was looking up from the road, but as
often happens, there was still another top higher up. I made my way
up there in short order, the entire climb taking just about the
expected 60 minutes, and was indeed rewarded with a view of the
lake. I took a few pictures here, but my camera battery bit the
dust, and my extra battery was in my backpack, which I had chosen
not to wear for this hike.
It was 15 minutes or so before I remembered that I still had a
camera, my cell phone, although it is not as good as my Nikon.
In observing this area
the night before I thought I could walk down from the ridge to the
south, and arrive at the road very near the geological exhibit. I
had to study the terrain carefully, and find a way down a small
cliff, but I was able to get past that area with no difficulty, and
reached the road right where I planned.
From there it was a
fairly quick and easy walk back to camp. I had left my table and
chair set up so I could eat after I returned, but I was not really
hungry, so I decided to load up and eat somewhere down the road. I
took some final photos near camp, then finished putting everything
in the car and started for home.
I made another stop at the
LeConte Overlook, hoping it might be a little clearer than when I
arrived. It was, just barely. About half way between
Dinkey Creek and the road junction where you can go to either
Courtright or Wishon Reservoir is McKinley
Grove, a small stand of
giant sequoias. It has a restroom and several picnic tables, and I
managed to find a table that was partly shaded, where I sat and had
lunch while reading. I saw three deer near this spot on the way up.
I made one more restroom
stop near Shaver Lake, then drove steadily down the mountain,
watching the temperature indicator in my car go up and up. It was
not actually as hot as it had been when I left, with a slight breeze
and a high of about 95. Still, it seemed hot after the 75 high at
Courtright.
I've enjoyed some great
hikes and camping trips by myself and with friends and family this
year, but this one was definitely my favorite solo trip of the year.
In fact, I am ready to go back and explore a couple of areas that I
missed.
--Dick Estel, August 2016
Courtright
Photos |
|
Back
to Courtright
I concluded
the report on
my camping trip at Courtright Reservoir in mid-August by saying, "I am ready to go back and explore a couple of areas that I
missed." Only 13 days later I made that return trip, and hiked
in places where I had not been before. You can read about the location and
getting there in my earlier
report, so I won't repeat that
information. Once
again I got on the road about 7:30, this time in my Ford F150 truck.
I didn't make as many stops on the way, and arrived at about 10:15,
with the temperature at 72 degrees. I had only to put on my boots to
be ready to start hiking. For
the first day, I
had planned to see if I could get to the top of couple of domes near
my campsite, then decide on my other
destination the next day. However, my daughter Teri and her friend
Sandy also had their eye on those two nearby
domes, and decided to
join me the second day. So I needed to pick my other destination for
the first day. Across
a small drainage and above the trailhead parking area there is a
group of domes I named Triple Dome last time, although I had to
change this name (more about that below). It looked as if I could
walk up above the trailhead parking lot and go up the lowest dome without much
difficulty. I
was parked in the same spot as last time, a large, nearly level area
of granite bedrock, a few hundred yards from the trailhead, so I
walked cross-country down that way through the rocks and trees, then
up to the upper end of the parking lot. The
first part of the climb was moderately steep but relatively easy.
Then I got into more rugged territory, with many large boulders to
navigate around. Soon I realized that I was not going to conquer
this dome. The ascent became steeper than it had looked from below,
and I was essentially in a huge rock
pile. At one of our other
favorite camping spots, there are a lot of rock slabs, easy to walk
up and over, but they are four to eight inches thick.
Here they were two feet thick. It seemed that every fourth rock I
stepped on tilted a little. They were mostly lodged in fairly good,
not perched precariously so that I felt I would fall, but it seemed
foolhardy to continue. I could also see that even if someone were to
get near the
top, it would be hard to get all the way up. It was
not rounded like most domes, but consisted of steep, layered rocks
forming a cliff on one side, and a nearly sheer rock face on the
other. From
my highest position I could look across the little valley where the
trail runs and see a large granite slope across the way. About a
mile in from the trailhead is THE Big Granite
Slope, which I wrote
about previously. The nearer one is somewhat smaller, and maybe a
little steeper. It is divided into several sections, with small
areas of soil in between, allowing the growth of little areas of
forest. I
made my way back down through the parking lot, and down the foot
trail to the 4-wheel drive road. Just before the junction of road
and trail, I walked a short distance through the trees to the first
part of the granite I had seen from above. This section was the very bottom of the valley,
and was quite small, but as I went up and to the northeast, I came out
to a large expanse of rock. Like the Big Granite Slope, this one was
covered with many boulders of all sizes, and lots of small rocks. I
had to do a little zig zag hiking to get up past places where there
were shelves two or three feet high, but none of it was particularly
difficult. At
one place I set up my camera on my mini-tripod to take a
self-portrait in front of a huge boulder. As I knelt down to focus
the camera, I noticed that the granite there was exceptionally
smooth, due to a few thousand years of runoff carrying small grains of
rock down across it. After taking the picture, I lay down on the rock
and rested for five minutes or so. Usually such a place would not be
as comfortable as it looked, but I only had to shift my body a little bit once
to avoid being poked by an uneven spot. Looking
at the slope from above, and walking on it, I thought that I could
get up close to the base of Constant
Dome, a striking rock formation
that is visible almost constantly on the first mile or so of the
trail, and which presents a different look at various stages along the
way. Not surprisingly, it was farther than it looked, but I kept
moving north and west, and eventually got very close to the dome. Before
that I stopped and had a snack at a shady, sheltered location that
would make a good camp site. It is protected on two sides by
tall slabs of rock, it's level, and it had a good flat rock for sitting.
After a good rest, I continued on toward my destination. When
I got about 100 feet from the base of the dome, my way was
temporarily blocked by a huge bench or shelf of granite, about ten
feet high. It held a huge, oddly shaped
boulder, and many smaller
ones, and stretched up to the dome base itself. Where I first
approached it, it was too steep to walk up, but a little farther
along, I was able to make my way to the top. Most of the rock in
this area is what we call "sticky granite," meaning it
offers good traction for hiking boots The complete opposite would
be rock in a creek bed that has been polished by water-borne sand
over the years, and can be dangerously slick even when dry. Close
to the base, the route became a little more challenging, mostly due
to having to make my way around a big juniper next to the rock.
However, I was able to get up and touch the base of the dome, and
get a picture of myself doing so. Like all domes, up close it was
much more "lumpy" and uneven than it looked from a
distance. In fact, it was like being at the base of a vertical rock
cliff. About 50 feet above me was a huge square
boulder, sitting on
a rock shelf. It did not look as if would fall any time soon, but
the presence of chunks of rock all around me made it clear that,
like all such places, this rock formation was still a work in
progress.
It was during this hike that I began to question the name I had
given to the complex of domes on the east side of the valley above
the parking area. From the road approaching the lake, and from the
farthest spot on the trail where I went previously, it appears that there are
three domes close together, and I named the formation Triple Dome.
However, from my close-up view trying to ascend the lower dome, and
from the views I had going up the granite slope to the west, it was
clear that the dome I tried to climb was distinctly separated from the other two. The two
upper domes form a rough
stair step as part of the same rock ridge. Since I could see no way
to ever get up on the lower dome, I called it Hopeless Dome and
declared it a separate feature, leaving the two larger,
higher domes to be known as Double
Dome. I
continued west staying as close to the base of Constant Dome as possible,
first stopping at a place where I saw a dramatic dead
juniper. When
I got closer to it, I realized that it still had a couple of live
branches, which is a common development with these hardy trees. Also
near this area I saw an "impossible" sight - a good size
rock, weighing perhaps 200 pounds, wedged in the branches of another
juniper, about 10 feet up from the ground. I came up with three
theories: 1.
Someone put it there - unlikely considering the weight of the rock,
the distance from the ground, and the overall effort involved; 2.
It was pushed up as the tree grew - again unlikely considering these
trees start out as small, limber seedlings and become small limber
saplings; 3.
The rock fell from above and landed in the tree - requiring a very
precise coincidence, but still the most likely as far as I could
figure. Heading
past these trees, I started making my way down just as I got
my first view of the lake. I could see in the other direction that I had
to descend a good 150 feet or so back to my lowest starting point,
so I studied the terrain, looking for the best route. I was still on
an extension of the rock ledge, and found one possible way down, a chute full of pine cones
and other debris - steep but not too far. However, I thought if I could
scramble up to the next highest level, about two feet up, I might
find a gradual path down the rock - and it turned out this is
exactly what happened. I walked down the rock and stepped on to the
dirt, then went a ways north and turned east, to go back to the
trail. At
one point my obvious route led through a grove of evergreens, with
fallen logs and branches everywhere on the ground. Getting through
stuff like this is difficult and sometimes literally painful, with
the risk of scratches from sharp dead twigs. Fortunately I was able to go around the worst of it. This soon
brought me back to the granite slope I had ascended earlier, and I
was able to carefully walk back down to the trail. I
got back to camp around 3:30 p.m. with the temperature at its
highest, 76 degrees with a strong breeze. I got my table and chair
set up so I could have lunch, and also inflated my air mattress and
got my "bedroom" ready. During lunch that day (and the
next) I had to contend with yellowjackets (AKA meat bees), who wanted to get inside
my sandwich and eat my ham. I finally decided that the best way to
deal with them was to give them their own chunk of meat. I shooed
them away from my plate until they finally noticed and zeroed in on
the offering I had placed on a nearby rock. I
thought I would try another hike after lunch, but I realized that my
efforts on the big hike were enough for one day. I did take some
short walks, including going down the road and just down the hill a
ways to a nice looking
juniper. I had photographed this one two
weeks earlier, and realized that it was the same tree I shot in
black and white back in 1969. Looking at the photos side by side,
the tree has changed very little in 47 years. Can't say the same
about myself. I
also walked out again a little later to get a late light view of the
Sierra peaks on the horizon. The LeConte Divide lies in that
direction, but the mountain farthest left (north) was obviously Mt.
Goddard, so I think I was seeing the Goddard
Divide. Checking the
map, it appears that the two divides are pretty much next to each
other. Back at
camp, it was reading time. I
have two books going, a paperback of All the President's Men, and
a Kindle book, The Last Ranch, part of the Kearny
Family saga by Michael McGarrity. I read the paperback till it
got dark, then switched to my smart phone. It started getting dark
noticeably earlier than on my previous trip. There was no moon, but it seemed that it took a long time for stars to appear. Then, as I
was reading, I would glance up from the screen, and each time the
sky seemed to be darker and there were more stars. Sleeping
in the truck, while far from the comfort of home, proved to be much
better than in the car. I had my head toward the back, with the
tailgate down and the bed cover up, so whenever I opened my eyes, I
had a fantastic field of stars to enjoy. Somewhere around 4 a.m.,
Orion made an appearance, a clear sign that the summer is coming to
an end. I also had a good look through binoculars at the Pleiades. The
low temperature was about 40 degrees, but there was a strong wind,
about 15 MPH, so trips to my outdoor "bathroom" were quite
cold. However, I was warm and comfortable in my sleeping bag. During
the night I recorded temperatures of 53 at 8 p.m., 48 at 9:05, 47
at 11:00, 44 at 12:45, and 40 at 5:20. During one of my outside
excursions at 11:00 I saw a bright meteor with a slight trail,
always a welcome sight. At midnight I heard a vehicle and saw a Jeep
heading out from the trail. I did not envy him, since he had
presumably been on the
4-wheel route in the dark. I
got up for the day about 6:45 a.m., packed up my sleeping bag and air mattress, and
ate breakfast on my TV table and the tailgate instead of the table
down in the shady area. I was done with this and had everything
cleaned up by 8:30. By this time it was warming up quickly, and I
changed into my hiking clothes (shorts and t-shirt) at 9. I
expected Teri some time between 9 and 10, and she drove in at 9:33,
just after I heard what I thought was a clap of thunder. There were
clouds over the mountains to the east, but nothing that looked
threatening, and there was no further sound or any evidence of a
storm, so maybe it was something else. Teri's
friend Sandy was with her, and we all had previously had the same
thought. Looking up at a couple of domes by the geological exhibit
area, each of us separately said, I think I could make it up on top
of that first
dome, then walk across to the other one. A little
after 10:30 we set out to prove that we could. Since we did not care
to do any road walking, Teri drove her car the short distance to the
small parking lot beside the road, and we started to angle our way
up the first dome. This
rock, which we will call Sandy's
Dome, is not a solid, rounded rock,
but instead has a lot of loose soil and rocks of various size. For
the most part there were no real barriers to getting to the top, we
just had to work our way through the best route. It was cool, with a
breeze even stronger than the day before, so it was comfortable
hiking, and on top the wind was strong enough that we had to worry
about losing our hats. As
we made our way up, we had views of the dam and
lake, and from the
top we could see east to the LeConte Divide, with the drainage of the
North Fork of the Kings spread out below us to the east and south.
We also had a view of the amazing array
of domes that make this place so special. At the top and just down the southwest side, people had built
various rock sculptures, including this
remarkable construction, which is an all-natural phenomenon that
required only the addition of the legs to achieve the effect. This mini-stonehenge
also captured our attention. We
could also see that the nearby dome that appeared to be slightly
higher than the one we stood on was actually lower. It had the more
typical rounded, solid granite appearance one expects of a dome.
Best of all, it was a fairly easy task to go down to the saddle
between the domes and get up to the top of the second one, which we
decreed was Teri's Dome. All
during this time we were kept cool by a very strong breeze, which
reached its peak in the saddle between the domes and on the second
summit. Like all domes, once we were on the top, the formation was
much more lumpy and uneven than it appeared from below. We were now
looking down into the very steep and deep canyon of Helms Creek
downstream from the dam, with a fairly sheer drop-off on the side of
the dome toward the creek. Of course, we could see most of the other
domes in the area - Constant Dome, Double, Hopeless, Maxson, and the
row of yet to be named domes adjacent to the
lake. We
saw glacial
polish on top of both domes, giving testimony that the
ice had reached considerable depth at this location. After
we had enjoyed the view and a snack, and successfully battled the
wind for control of our hats, it was time to head back down. Teri's
Dome is too steep for walking on all sides except the way we had
come up, so we made our way back down to the saddle, then across the
lower part of Sandy's Dome toward the car. As
might be suggested by the choice of this location for a geological
exhibit, there are many kinds of rock in the area. Teri and
especially Sandy are interested in this subject, and spent some time
on the return trip examining various
specimens, ranging from small,
easily carried examples to big boulders. While I know quartz when I
see it, Sandy has made an informal study of the subject and
recognizes many types of minerals. We
got back to Teri's car, with Sandy carrying a few extra pounds of
rock, and made the short drive back to my camp site. I had stuff for
lunch left from the day before, and of course, Teri had brought
food. Once again we were plagued by yellowjackets, who arrived in
even greater numbers than the day before. Once again we bought them
off by giving them pieces of meat of their own. After
lunch we moved from the shady table area up by my car and enjoyed
the sun and the breeze. Even in full sun, the wind was strong enough
that I considered putting on a long sleeve shirt. However, we would
be leaving soon, so I decided not to bother. There
was little more for us to do except load up and go home, which we
did. Throughout the two
days of hiking and wandering, we saw many lizards and squirrels, but
my favorite wildlife sighting was on the way home. Not more than a
mile from the lake I came around a bend and saw a half dozen large
birds in the road. I quickly realized they were young wild turkeys,
about half grown, and like all their relatives, they took their
sweet time getting out of the way. I'm
thinking about another overnight camp soon. Would it surprise anyone
to learn that I'm considering another return to Courtright?
--Dick Estel, September 2016
Back
to Courtright Photos |
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Photos
(Click to enlarge; pictures open in new window) |
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Rancheria Falls
Courtright
Car Camp
Back to Courtright |
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Rancheria Falls |
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Trees
and rocky hillside above the trail |
Red firs beside the
trail |
This
young fir has a nice crop of cones |
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Rancheria Falls |
A mini-falls below
the main drop |
Top of falls - three
weeks earlier
the falls was twice this wide |
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Visitors enjoy
getting up close
to the bottom of the falls |
Cascade below the
falls |
A stately fir towers
over its neighbors |
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Huntington Lake from
the Kaiser Pass Road |
Rancheria Falls
across the
canyon from Kaiser Pass Road |
A peaceful Sierra
vista |
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Lunch at a quiet
campground |
Sailboat racing on
the lake |
China
Peak - a ski resort in the winter |
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Rugged little dome
below Shaver Lake Dam |
The creek beside the
dome |
More flowers to be
identified |
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A high-altitude
lupine |
Wavyleaf Indian
Paint Brush |
Either Azure or
Royal Penstemon |
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Courtright Car Camp |
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The Leconte Divide |
Courtright Reservoir |
Blue and beautiful
and
surrounded by granite domes |
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My camp |
The access point for
many
fantastic destinations |
Self portrait in
front of Constant Dome
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Where the 4-wheel
road and the trail separate |
Boardwalk in the
woods |
Walk carefully in
this spot |
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On the Big Granite
Slope |
Dead tree, like the
bones
of some prehistoric beast |
Boulders large and
small,
dropped by the last glacier |
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The dark area in the
middle is glacial polish |
Real mean don't need
blue dots! |
Deceivingly easy
section
of the Dusy-Ershim Trail |
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At the upper side of
the slope |
Roots of a long-dead
tree |
Maxson Dome, north
of the granite slope
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Not the sign you
expect to see deep in the woods |
If this section of
the road looks too difficult...
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...try this one
instead! |
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Constant Dome from
near my camp
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Constant Dome from
the granite slope
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Double
Dome on the left, and
Hopeless Dome to the right |
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The
massive outline of Double Dome from the granite slope |
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I suspect this is
not a natural formation |
Dome above Helms
Creek |
Lost Canyon |
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Big section of
glacial polish |
How those ancient
junipers start out
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These guys were
scampering
over the rocks all around me |
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The view of
Double Dome from near my camp |
Full moon rising on
August 17 |
I made my way up
through these
rocks; it's steeper than it looks |
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It's ancient, it's
gnarly, it's dead |
One of my favorite
scenes in the entire area |
Base of an ancient,
living juniper |
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Detail of bark on
the live one |
The mossy top of the
dead juniper |
A dramatic layered
rock cliff |
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Courtright from the
ridge above my camp
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It doesn't look it,
but I'm about
100 feet above the lake here |
Ranger's Buttons |
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Fireweed |
Juniper below road
to camp |
Same tree,
photographed about 1969 |
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The geological
interpretive area |
Flowers along the
trail |
My mini-tripod, with
attachment
to hold a cell phone |
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Back
to Courtright Photos |
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Juniper
by the road on the
approach to Courtright Reservoir |
Double
Dome with Hopeless Dome in front |
Double
Dome from the north |
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Courtright
Reservoir, land of many domes |
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The
approach to Hopeless Dome |
In
the rock pile on the way up Hopeless Dome |
Two-foot
thick granite slabs on the side of the dome |
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Admiring
a big juniper tree
near the trailhead parking lot |
Rarely,
some junipers are
thick and bushy and straight |
Close
up view shows the typical
stringy bark of a juniper |
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Rocks
trapped in the roots of a fallen tree |
Huge
boulder on the smaller big granite slope |
This
shelf is a great place to store your boulders |
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The
granite slope and Constant Dome |
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Hopeless
Dome from the
slope below Constant Dome |
View
through the divide between
Double and Hopeless Domes |
The
perfect resting spot |
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Getting
close to the base of Constant Dome |
A
delightfully jagged boulder next to the dome |
Even
closer to the base |
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Pondering
how that rock got up there |
A
closer look |
How
soon before this rock falls? |
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I
touch the base of Constant Dome |
Juniper
- looking dead, but actually living |
The
few branches still alive |
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First
view of the lake from
the base of Constant Dome |
Road
map in granite |
A
last look back up at the dome |
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The
Goddard Divide |
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Nice
juniper just below the
road to the parking area |
I
first photographed this tree
in
1969 - it hasn't changed much |
Sunrise
on Sandy's Dome |
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Our
hiking destination the second day |
Starting
up at the bottom of Sandy's Dome |
Teri
and Sandy on their way up |
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Dogtooth
Peak above Courtright |
You
can see the road at
the bottom, left of center |
Teri,
Dick and Sandy on top |
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An
amazing natural sculpture -
only the feet were added by humans |
Teri
pets the "dog" |
A
weathered dead tree on top of the dome |
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Another
view of the tree |
The
work of people with too
much time on their hands |
Sandy
in the saddle between
"her" dome and Teri's Dome |
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More
rearranging of nature |
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Helm
Creek gorge below the dam |
Teri
on the way down |
Another
fine ragged stump |
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A
rock hound's paradise |
Older
rock embedded in the granite |
A
look back at where we were |
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Southwest
side of Teri's Dome above Helm Creek |
A
dome southwest of the lake
with man-made things on top |
Ridge
above the trail north of Double Dome |
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Related
Links |
|
Rancheria Falls |
Huntington
Lake |
Shaver
Lake |
Courtright
Reservoir |
LeConte
Divide |
Glacial
polish |
Glacial
polish photos |
Hell for Sure
Pass |
Dusy-Ershim
Trail |
White
Bark Vista |
Pleiades
|
More
Pleiades |
Pleiades
photo |
Constant
Dome Slide Show |
Sierra
Juniper |
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