Saturday night we camped with the Kendalls at Tillie Creek, right on Lake Isabella. Thanks Dan and Lesli for feeding us! Our only contribution was my culinary discovery of the summer: feta cheese, herbes de provence, and a can of kidney beans can make any vegetable in your fridge into a respectable salad. We counted bats, zombie satellites, and shooting stars. A good time was had by all.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Kern River, August 14, 2010
We drove to Bakersfield Friday in order to meet the Kendalls first thing Saturday morning for rafting. Rafting on the lower Kern River, zesty!
Saturday night we camped with the Kendalls at Tillie Creek, right on Lake Isabella. Thanks Dan and Lesli for feeding us! Our only contribution was my culinary discovery of the summer: feta cheese, herbes de provence, and a can of kidney beans can make any vegetable in your fridge into a respectable salad. We counted bats, zombie satellites, and shooting stars. A good time was had by all.
Saturday night we camped with the Kendalls at Tillie Creek, right on Lake Isabella. Thanks Dan and Lesli for feeding us! Our only contribution was my culinary discovery of the summer: feta cheese, herbes de provence, and a can of kidney beans can make any vegetable in your fridge into a respectable salad. We counted bats, zombie satellites, and shooting stars. A good time was had by all.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Woodchuck Lake to pick up trash, August 7, 2010
We collected a bunch of trash while obliterating camp sites at Woodchuck Lake in July. On Friday I dragged Noam, Juliet, Lukka, and Tioga up to Wishon to pick up the trash cache on Saturday. Sorry for the shameless butt shot, but here is Tioga, loaded with 94 pounds of trash:
We started referring to Zach-the-intern as "Mr. T" due to his passion for transplanting things into the middle of the obliterated fire rings. Mr. T lovingly attending to his plants:
I guess it got a little hot. Here are the same plants, a few weeks later. Sad!
Juliet stopping for a drink at Woodchuck Creek on the way back to Wishon with the trash:
Noam, Lukka, and Tioga, faithfully cleaning up the wilderness:
This is how the three equids felt on Sunday about the 18 mile round trip up steep, rocky trails to Woodchuck Lake:
Sunday was an eventful day at Wishon. Gary, who feeds the mules when Micki is out in the backcountry, came racing down to my cabin to make sure I wasn't killed by a baby bear that his dog treed right by the fire pit. About an hour later, a HUGE dead tree toppled over into the river canyon, right in front of me. Sunday afternoon, after Noam left to drive back to the bay area, I sat on the rock by Wishon and watched this weather blow in over the reservoir:
We started referring to Zach-the-intern as "Mr. T" due to his passion for transplanting things into the middle of the obliterated fire rings. Mr. T lovingly attending to his plants:
I guess it got a little hot. Here are the same plants, a few weeks later. Sad!
Juliet stopping for a drink at Woodchuck Creek on the way back to Wishon with the trash:
Noam, Lukka, and Tioga, faithfully cleaning up the wilderness:
This is how the three equids felt on Sunday about the 18 mile round trip up steep, rocky trails to Woodchuck Lake:
Sunday was an eventful day at Wishon. Gary, who feeds the mules when Micki is out in the backcountry, came racing down to my cabin to make sure I wasn't killed by a baby bear that his dog treed right by the fire pit. About an hour later, a HUGE dead tree toppled over into the river canyon, right in front of me. Sunday afternoon, after Noam left to drive back to the bay area, I sat on the rock by Wishon and watched this weather blow in over the reservoir:
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Kaiser Wilderness, August 3-4, 2010
On Tuesday I helped Micki pack gear into Nellie Lake for a group of people she referred to as "ologists" - the scientists checking the health of the meadows where cattle graze in the Kaiser Wilderness. Nellie Lake:
We had planned to camp with the ologists, but we would have had to high-line the horses and mules and the ride wasn't really long enough to get them tired enough to behave on the high-line all night. We rode back out and camped where there was a corral near the trailhead. Wednesday we went back in to pick up the ologists' gear. We stopped just short of the lake to climb up to the top of a hill which the cattle permit-holder told us was near the top of the Kaiser Wilderness and had nice views. A rock with grinding holes:
Micki lamented that she was "out of shape." To me, being IN shape means I can make it through 2/3rds of my ancient VHS Jane Fonda's step aerobic workout tape without pausing the tape more than twice to catch my breath. To Micki, based on the way she scrambled up that hill, being out of shape means she is only fit enough to top ten in a Long Course Triathlon, not an Iron Man Triathlon. Gorgeous views at the top:
I did my best to keep up with Micki, gasping for air and sweating, but eventually lost her. Hmm, what to do? I had no water, no radio, and only a vague notion of where we had left the horses and mules. Lucky for me, when I am exhausted and walking uphill, as I was while chasing Micki, I generally count my steps, so I had an idea of how far we had come. I circled back, went what felt like way too far, raced back and forth a few times trying to decide what to do, then sat down on a rock and reconciled myself to the idea that I was lost. It was an amazing experience really, I considered several options, then decided I needed to head back uphill to try and see where the horses and mules were. After I went about twenty steps, there they were - I have never been so happy to see Piglet the mule. I had to sit down for a minute to shed some adrenaline, then I realized I had to figure out the mysterious fire-box (the radio) that hangs on my saddle so I could call Micki and tell her I wasn't dead. Just as I found a tone that I could transmit on, she popped out of the bush, shouting my name. (She assumed I had passed out at the top of the hill.) We continued up to the lake, where Lisa the mule spooked at a bear box and kicked out, catching my arm at the very end of her kick. I spent the rest of the afternoon subjecting my arm to various stress tests to verify about every five minutes that it was not fractured. In spite of all this, I did enjoy the Kaiser Wilderness.
We had planned to camp with the ologists, but we would have had to high-line the horses and mules and the ride wasn't really long enough to get them tired enough to behave on the high-line all night. We rode back out and camped where there was a corral near the trailhead. Wednesday we went back in to pick up the ologists' gear. We stopped just short of the lake to climb up to the top of a hill which the cattle permit-holder told us was near the top of the Kaiser Wilderness and had nice views. A rock with grinding holes:
Micki lamented that she was "out of shape." To me, being IN shape means I can make it through 2/3rds of my ancient VHS Jane Fonda's step aerobic workout tape without pausing the tape more than twice to catch my breath. To Micki, based on the way she scrambled up that hill, being out of shape means she is only fit enough to top ten in a Long Course Triathlon, not an Iron Man Triathlon. Gorgeous views at the top:
I did my best to keep up with Micki, gasping for air and sweating, but eventually lost her. Hmm, what to do? I had no water, no radio, and only a vague notion of where we had left the horses and mules. Lucky for me, when I am exhausted and walking uphill, as I was while chasing Micki, I generally count my steps, so I had an idea of how far we had come. I circled back, went what felt like way too far, raced back and forth a few times trying to decide what to do, then sat down on a rock and reconciled myself to the idea that I was lost. It was an amazing experience really, I considered several options, then decided I needed to head back uphill to try and see where the horses and mules were. After I went about twenty steps, there they were - I have never been so happy to see Piglet the mule. I had to sit down for a minute to shed some adrenaline, then I realized I had to figure out the mysterious fire-box (the radio) that hangs on my saddle so I could call Micki and tell her I wasn't dead. Just as I found a tone that I could transmit on, she popped out of the bush, shouting my name. (She assumed I had passed out at the top of the hill.) We continued up to the lake, where Lisa the mule spooked at a bear box and kicked out, catching my arm at the very end of her kick. I spent the rest of the afternoon subjecting my arm to various stress tests to verify about every five minutes that it was not fractured. In spite of all this, I did enjoy the Kaiser Wilderness.Thursday I helped Micki and her crew pack up the mules and horses and leave from the Maxson trailhead at Courtright Reservoir. A group of people were unloading and packing up their jeeps for a trip down the Dusy-Ershim OHV trail. I love this picture, it looks like I am about to take off four wheeling in the Prius:
Muir Trail Ranch, July 31 - August 1, 2010
Noam and I drove up to Huntington Lake on Friday and stayed at one of the hellish frontcountry campgrounds there. Just as I was dozing off, I was awakened by a banging noise, which Noam described as "two cretins with a hammer." Saturday we drive up to Florence Lake to catch the first ferry which was delayed for nearly an hour, in classic Florence Lake ferry style, while the captain cleaned her refrigerator.
A meadow on the hike from the ferry to Muir Trail Ranch:
I had forgotten where the cut-off trail to Muir Trail Ranch was, apparently, because we walked right by it. We turned this in to a happy mistake by pretending we had intended to do this in order to hike a triangle up Sallie Keyes cut-off, down the John Muir trail, then back to the trail ranch. Noam on the John Muir trail:
Score! I found this bag of trail mix on the trail. Noam expressed disgust that I intended to eat it, which I scoffed at, but truth be told it is still sitting in my food box at Wishon and I am as yet too chicken to eat any of it. If I bake it into chocolate chip cookies it will be sanitized by the heat, right?
Tent cabin #1, otherwise known as the Tenthouse Penthouse, our accommodation at Muir Trail Ranch:
After checking in and resting for a bit, Noam and I crossed the San Joaquin river on the log jam below to check out the natural hot springs and warm lake in Blayney Meadow across the river.
The log crossing was a little sketchy because you had to drop down about five feet to get on it, and it was high over a fast and deep part of the river. I crossed it on all fours, and I don't care who knows. On the way back, we opted to just ford the San Joaquin instead at the shallowest, widest spot we could find. I thought it was challenging and I had water shoes and a walking stick, I have no idea how Noam made it across in bare feet with no stick. The warm lake was beautiful, right at the foot of Ward Mountain, warmer than the river though not particularly warm. At the hot springs we first met Molly and Steve, two hikers who we would run into at the ferry the following day after they decided to give up on finishing the John Muir trail. They were so fun to talk to that I ended up driving them all the way to Fresno so they could rent a car to go retrieve their car from Whitney Portal on the eastern side of the Sierra.
A meadow on the hike from the ferry to Muir Trail Ranch:
I had forgotten where the cut-off trail to Muir Trail Ranch was, apparently, because we walked right by it. We turned this in to a happy mistake by pretending we had intended to do this in order to hike a triangle up Sallie Keyes cut-off, down the John Muir trail, then back to the trail ranch. Noam on the John Muir trail:
Score! I found this bag of trail mix on the trail. Noam expressed disgust that I intended to eat it, which I scoffed at, but truth be told it is still sitting in my food box at Wishon and I am as yet too chicken to eat any of it. If I bake it into chocolate chip cookies it will be sanitized by the heat, right?
Tent cabin #1, otherwise known as the Tenthouse Penthouse, our accommodation at Muir Trail Ranch:
After checking in and resting for a bit, Noam and I crossed the San Joaquin river on the log jam below to check out the natural hot springs and warm lake in Blayney Meadow across the river. 
The log crossing was a little sketchy because you had to drop down about five feet to get on it, and it was high over a fast and deep part of the river. I crossed it on all fours, and I don't care who knows. On the way back, we opted to just ford the San Joaquin instead at the shallowest, widest spot we could find. I thought it was challenging and I had water shoes and a walking stick, I have no idea how Noam made it across in bare feet with no stick. The warm lake was beautiful, right at the foot of Ward Mountain, warmer than the river though not particularly warm. At the hot springs we first met Molly and Steve, two hikers who we would run into at the ferry the following day after they decided to give up on finishing the John Muir trail. They were so fun to talk to that I ended up driving them all the way to Fresno so they could rent a car to go retrieve their car from Whitney Portal on the eastern side of the Sierra. Monday, August 2, 2010
What Tioga is listening to right now
Scroll down to picture 19:
http://www.privilege.csides.net/myprivilege.html
http://www.privilege.csides.net/myprivilege.html
Woodchuck Country, July 21-27, 2010
On Wednesday, the first day of our tour, Lorrie the mule didn't look quite right, so Micki stayed back and mule-sat while Alison and I packed the tools and some gear up the trail to the first tree blocking the trail. Me on Frank, Coco carrying the gear, and Jesse carrying the tools.
Me and Alison cutting the tree blocking the trail:
Thursday Micki packed our gear, me, and Alison, to Woodchuck Lake, then rode back out. Frank, my mount, government horse extraordinaire:
For the rest of the trip, I backpacked. I know! Me! Can you believe it? Proof of my backpacking prowess, on the shore of Woodchuck Lake, where we base-camped:
Friday we cleared more trail. Shooting stars in the meadow near Chimney Lake:
The trail to Chimney Lake, where we inventoried campsites on Saturday, went way up, down, and around, so we hiked cross country down the talus slope below instead. I am not a fan of this stuff - I ride horses and stay on the trail. I was terrified, crawling on my hands and knees and making everyone wait forever for me, but I made it eventually and it WAS way shorter than the trail:
Chapo calling us in to service:
Sunday and Monday we inventoried and obliterated illegal campsites on Woodchuck Lake:
Applying soothing Chapo compresses after a hard day of hiking and obliterating:
Neat tree with twisty bark, caused by a lightning strike:
Woodchuck Country: 
It was a great trip for creepy crawly things: 1. the mosquitoes were absolutely epic, 2. Zach, one of the interns, found an endangered Yosemite toad on Monday night, and 3. on our hike out Tuesday, Micki and I spotted this rubber boa:
Me and Alison cutting the tree blocking the trail:
Thursday Micki packed our gear, me, and Alison, to Woodchuck Lake, then rode back out. Frank, my mount, government horse extraordinaire:
For the rest of the trip, I backpacked. I know! Me! Can you believe it? Proof of my backpacking prowess, on the shore of Woodchuck Lake, where we base-camped:
Friday we cleared more trail. Shooting stars in the meadow near Chimney Lake:
The trail to Chimney Lake, where we inventoried campsites on Saturday, went way up, down, and around, so we hiked cross country down the talus slope below instead. I am not a fan of this stuff - I ride horses and stay on the trail. I was terrified, crawling on my hands and knees and making everyone wait forever for me, but I made it eventually and it WAS way shorter than the trail:
Chapo calling us in to service:
Sunday and Monday we inventoried and obliterated illegal campsites on Woodchuck Lake:
Applying soothing Chapo compresses after a hard day of hiking and obliterating:
Neat tree with twisty bark, caused by a lightning strike:
Woodchuck Country: 
It was a great trip for creepy crawly things: 1. the mosquitoes were absolutely epic, 2. Zach, one of the interns, found an endangered Yosemite toad on Monday night, and 3. on our hike out Tuesday, Micki and I spotted this rubber boa:
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