Owens Valley - November 2021

 

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Released Back Into the Wild

 

The Lady continues with her recovery from total knee replacements in both legs. The left and second surgery was the end of August. The right was done the end of April. It has been a long haul but worth it. Recovery with the left is around a month ahead of the right. Yes, she is doing well. Last week she started walking up and down our private road.

 

Our annual birthday trip reservations were made months ago. There was no way the Lady was not going to be ready for hot spring soaking, searches and discoveries, birthday celebration, and the vastness of our outdoors.

 

A storm front was coming through in the evening so we left home late Monday morning to get on the east side before the weather moved in. The drive up the highway 50 corridor still breaks our hearts as it will for years to come. The devastation from the Caldor Fire shakes us to our cores. Our home is forever changed.

 

We settled into our campsite late afternoon.

 

 

 

 

 

The vastness and solitude here soothed our souls and calmed us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The storm rolled in after dark. Rain spat against the roof and wind rocked us. It called us deep into restful sleep.

 

The storm broke at dawn. The new snow on the White Mountains was down to 10,000 feet.

 

 

 

 

 

The cloud shrouded Sierra Nevada to the west was a grand backdrop to the morning's rainbow.

 

 

 

 

 

The Lady carefully moved cross country with her new joints. She did not, would not miss seeing everything.

 

 

 

 

 

It was indeed a glorious morning.

 

 

 

 

 

Check in time for our reserved campsite was at 3:00 pm so we had most the day to explore. I had two ancient rock art sites to try and locate. We headed south on highway 395.

 

The Owens Valley feels like such a busy place. 395 carries a lot of traffic. The area is a well deserved tourist attraction. But turn off the busy highway and it is remarkable how quiet much of this vast valley is.

 

The first archeology site we hoped to find was south of Bishop. It was reported - from that 1959 field work research paper we've been referencing - as a large habitation site. As we drove into the area, one spot looked and felt right.

 

 

 

 

 

The petroglyphs are old and faded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Several stone circles line the top of the long basalt outcrop.

 

 

 

 

 

We found several mortars and cupules sites.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spread out and found additional sites at other outcrops.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spent a couple of hours here and enjoyed our discoveries.

 

We exited this area to the south on small backroads. One high outcrop right along the dirt road looked just right for an ancient billboard. Sure enough, our hunch was right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I recently finished reading The Boys in the Sky Blue Pants, a detailed history of the early settlement and military camps in the Owens Valley written by a local historian. In this book was where I was introduced to the story of Charlie Tyler, a black cowboy. Charlie, on March 7, 1863, was traveling with five others in wagons from Aurora to Visalia. The route, at that time was down the Owens Valley and over Walker Pass. The group was attacked by Indians while crossing the swollen Owens River. They cut the horses loose from the wagons to hasten their escape. Poor Charlie was unable to catch a panicked horse and was overtaken by the Indians and killed. The nearby butte has been called Charlies Butte ever since.

 

But the history of the butte goes much further back in time. It is the site of ancient stacked rock hunting blinds. This was the second site we were searching for.

 

 

 

 

 

Although busy highway 395 runs close, this area feels a world apart, a nice place to step back into time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With our success in finding three more rock art sites, it was time to head north to our waiting campsite at Benton Hot Springs. It's become an annual tradition, to ease on into the next year and celebrate my birthday soaking in restorative hot waters.

 

Tuesday evening's color and light were wondrous.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weather was perfect after the storm passed. Daytime highs were around 70° with lows down to 40°. As I said, it was perfect. Wednesday morning we drove down to spend most the day in the Alabama Hills. There was a new area to for us to explore and it had been many years since we had stopped in this busy place. But, that was part of the plan. Our area of interest was off the beaten path.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boulders sit atop a point. The Lady scanned for ancient art work - the place just looked right.

 

 

 

 

 

There was no rock art but the Lady insisted on a closer look. "I can get up there! I'll be careful." She assured me. Up she went.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She is far from 100% with her recovery and rehab from the two knee replacements but it was obvious it was time for her to be set free and released back into the wild.

 

All other nearby high points were now fair game for her explorations.

 

 

 

 

Along with the scrambling and exploration, we also took in a long lunch at a perfect spot with a view.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We headed back north on 395 on our way to Benton.

 

"Those are not cows." the Lady said as I concentrated on piloting the truck. She was looking to the west. "Those are not horses. They are not built like horses or cows." The Lady knows critters and she was figuring it out. "It's elk! They are all elk!" she exclaimed. I found a place to turn around and we headed back. The late afternoon light was golden. As I took photos the Lady counted. "53!" she announced. "That big bull, one small young bull, and all these girls!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tule Elk - smallest of the elk subspecies in N. America - were native to California's great central valley. When Europeans arrived it is estimated the elk numbered 500,000. By 1874 it was believed they were extinct. A Bakersfield rancher discovered a small remaining herd on his ranch. 22 herds - descendants of that tiny population - are now transplanted around California, as in Owens Valley and Point Reyes National Seashore, and the current number of elk is estimated at 5700.

 

It happened Thursday morning, something Julie has never done in her life. She woke up in bed with a 69 year old man. It was Veteran's Day and my birthday. After our early morning walk with coffee and another restorative soak, I made us a veggie scramble for breakfast. I am not without skills.

 

My birthday was a day to stay put at Benton. Relax, wander, explore, whatever suited our fancy.

 

It was inevitable, "Let's go for a walk up the canyon," the Lady suggested. "Just up the canyon as long as you are comfortable?" I asked.

 

In the depths of the canyon she pointed up a steep side gully. "Let's climb up there and continue on to the top of the ridge." It was inevitable

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The views got better and better as we climbed.

 

 

 

 

 

"I like nature's gymnasium! It's the best workout!" I heard Julie say several times.

 

 

 

 

 

The Lady is doing very well. She has a lot of strength to recover and she's working on relearning how to walk as she realizes how she had adapted her gait to the constant pain she had for years - aware of now because the pain is now gone.

 

What a great way to celebrate a birthday! 

 

 

 

 

 

On top of that we had a very nice surprise. The campground was completely empty. We were alone. Everyone else had packed up and left. The new campers did not show up until evening.

 

We took one last walk in the afternoon light.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since on Thursday morning I woke up being 69 years old, for some reason I became convinced I would wake up the next morning 70 years old.

 

Friday morning I asked Julie, "Am I 70 years old today?"

"No," she gently explained. "You get a whole year before you turn 70."

 

I expect it will be a good year.