Road Trip, Part II

Darwin Falls, just outside Death Valley National Park at the very end of a Canyon, pic: mine

I love National Parks, Monuments, Forests, whatever – they are grand, wonderful places with unique landscapes – or as in the case of Death Valley it seems more like a moonscape – stunning views, and sights that can simply not be found anywhere else in that abundance and perfection.

National Parks are also wonderful places for people watching – believe it or not.  How people approach National Parks is rather interesting.  Let’s leave aside for a moment those, who do not ever visit National or State or any other Parks and focus on those who go.  There are a few noteworthy types.  One type I always marvel about are the Indian ladies in their saris and sandals.  Now that makes sense in summer in Death Valley but I have seen them in the middle of winter at Lassen National Park, walking on what must have been 8 feet of snow.  So here I am in an undershirt, a t-shirt, a sweat shirt, a light jacket and a down jacket and three pairs of socks in my sturdiest hiking boots on snow shoes and there they are in a sari, a knit cardigan and strappy sandals.   I saw them again in Death Valley – and mind you in an unseasonably cold December temps where close to freezing.  I shiver just thinking about this choice of outerwear.

Another type are the gear heads.  They are predominantly male and seem to hail from all races.  We were puttering around the sand duns in Death Valley – a smallish area in the bigger scheme of the park, where mainly families go so the kids can play in the wonderfully fine sand and roll down the dunes – and there I saw two guys, decked out like on a Himalaya expedition hiking (walking really) into the dunes.  We are talking 2 pm and they have head lamps at the ready, hiking poles in both hands, performance clothing, water for days, backpacks large enough to have food for a three course meal plus wine and digestives in them.  And I wonder whether this is because they actually believe that leaving the car in a places as inhospitable as Death Valley is a virtual death sentence or whether they just like to buy gear.  I think it is the later, judging from the males in my life ….

The type that puzzles me are the rest area only visitors – which I think is by far the largest group.  They basically drive from vista point (as we call it in California) to vista point, preferring those with pick-nick tables and/or views of waterfalls.  They seem to make it a rule to never walk more than 200 feet after they are out of the car, then they have a quick glance around, take a dozen pictures or so and retreat to the car to drive to the next point of interest.  Daring things, like actual walks/hikes are not on the program.

Then there are the like so us, who actually hike, ideally to the end of the canyon, even if it is blocked by boulders, or icy areas.  Our rule of thumb has been for years now that you loose about 80-90% of the people for the first  mile you go.  So of 100 only 10-20 will still be with you at the 1 mile marker. After that, the attrition rate is lower, as these are often pretty determined individuals but I would still put it at about 50%.  So you do the math but one thing is for sure, it does not take terribly long to be almost alone.

Every once in a big while you come across an extreme hiker, one of those “crossing the Sierras with a daypack” guys, who have been on the road – or rather path – for days and look unwashed but exceedingly fit and healthy.  Those I envy a bit, as I can’t put up with that level of discomfort just to be able to say “I crossed the Sierra Nevada in winter on skies.”

But whatever the visitors – National Parks are amazing places!

Seasons

One of the things my German friends and acquaintances tell me they would miss if they lived in California are seasons.  Now mind you, Silicon Valley ain’t LA: we do have season.  We have colorful fall leaves in October and November, we have rain in late fall and winter, we have tulips and daffodils in spring – and what says spring more convincingly than daffodils and tulips? – and then we have the hot days of summer.

Love it, enjoy it and then leave it: winter (here near Truckee in the Sierra Nevada), pic: http://serene-musings.blogspot.com

But somehow they don’t seem to count in the minds of the Germans.  As long as you are not freezing cold for at least a few weeks somehow they do not accept it as winter.  And if you don’t have winter, then, it appears, you don’t have seasons.  For me the rain and short days here are more than enough for me to get mix  fix of seasons.  I once established the rule for a decent climate the following way: I have to be able to go to the trash container (about three steps from my back door) barefeet any time – day or night – any day of the year.  If that is a given, the weather is acceptable.

I am frequently asked whether I don’t miss the crisp freshness of a brilliant nippy fall day or the beauty of a sunshiny snowy winter day and my answer generally is “naw – you know – not really.”  I can certainly appreciate either – for a day or two – but not for weeks.  The more important issue is that the brilliant, nippy fall days, just like the sunshiny snowy winter days are but a legend.  There is one per year, sometimes two, sometimes none but by and large they are a fidget of our imagination.  One such day, especially if it is a weekend day and can therefore be duly enjoyed – is remembered for years, talked about and conjured longingly and lovingly.  The reality is quite different: rain, freezing cold, endless gray days, fog (no after two days it is definitely no longer romantic), slippery ground, storms in one word: yuck.

If I need a snow fix: there are the Sierras, drive there, enjoy for a few hours or days, drive home to a place safe from snow and all the inconveniences associated with it.

Man, I have become such a Californian 🙂

The Great American Outdoors

and it is great.  Of course, I can mostly speak to California but even just considering California the outdoors is simply spectacular.  We have it all: the ocean, the desert, the lakes and rolling hills, the mountain peaks and foothills, the plains, the green and browns – everything from rough and unforgiving to gentle and lovely.

The central Pacific Coast after sunset. My pic.

There is nothing like a late summer day in the Sierra hiking, well maybe a spring day spend by the Pacific ocean, or a summer day boating on Lake Tahoe, or a winter day skiing or another spring day rock climbing in the high desert.  For me I feel that I am truly in California and in some basic sense home when I smell the Sierra, that mixture of fragrant trees and dust warmed by the sun, when I get out of the car and smell the fresh, clean air, hear the humming and chirping of birds and insects and know that I could encounter a bear.  And then I start hiking up the mountain to some little lake, nestled between the peaks of the Sierra Nevada.  This, for me, is California as it should be, was meant to be.

Europe has the Alps – and they are splendid – no but…

… but the Sierra for whatever reason is different.  Maybe because when I started hiking in the Sierra I did it because I wanted to, not because my parents made me  (as in the Alps).  Maybe because the sky is bigger.  I don’t know.  But I do know that I will miss the Sierra probably more than anything else, more than San Francisco – dream of tourists but a hard and expensive place to live in – more than LA – juggernaut of a city that I never liked.

But then there is the Pacific with its wild force and huge expanse that makes me feel almost as small as the night sky.  Just thinking about it – if I take a boat and continue straight on the next firm land I’ll encounter is Japan, the Philippines, Australia.  Awesome.  I’ll miss you, too, Pacific.