2020: A Year for Meandering Closer to Home

          While this post is rather long and meandering, we and our new Promaster van, "Uncle Robert," spent the majority of 2020 at home. (For the full scoop on our van, see our "Introducing Uncle Robert" post.) In fact, the van has only been on two long trips ever, the first in Nov 2019, when Doug picked it up in Fort Collins, CO, where it was bought and converted, and drove it home. In Dec 2019, we drove the van to WA for Christmas with Doug's kids.

Uncle Robert, our 2019 Promaster 1500, Port Townsend, WA, on Puget Sound, 1/1/2020 

          The only meandering that got done after that was quite limited. In February, Doug took a friend to Death Valley in the '86 VW Vanagon.

Vanagon, Death Valley, February 2020. In the background is 11,000-foot Telescope Peak on the west side of Death Valley.

In July, he did a solo trek in the bus to Kings Canyon for an overnight respite in the mountains. Then in August, we took Uncle Robert to Courtright Reservoir in the Sierras. More on that below.

Our Promaster 1500 at Courtright Reservoir, Sierra Nevadas, 8/20.

        We'd planned a grand five-month trip to begin in late March 2020: Marilyn would fly to NC to visit her best friend from high school, with whom she'd reconnected in 2019 for the first time in 51 years! Then she'd fly to FL for her annual visit with Aunt Gret and cousin Ann. Meanwhile, Doug would meander across the country to Plattsburgh, NY, where he'd retrieve Marilyn at the airport. We'd head to Québec to the home Denis and Christiane. We'd met in the Yukon in 2017, and we were going to tour the Maritimes in our new Promasters. Then we'd fly to WA for Devon's MS graduation, fly back, tour Newfoundland, and work our way home in July.

Québécois friends Denis and Christiane's new Promaster with a poptop to sleep four.

          We all know how the whisper of the pandemic quickly became a roar. On 3/3/20, we wrote to Denis and Christiane that we'd bought our trip insurance. On 3/8, we wrote that we'd decided flying was not safe, and Marilyn would not go to NC and FL, but instead drive across the country with Doug. On 3/11, we wrote that we'd have to cancel the trip altogether. On 3/13, Denis wrote that anyone entering Québec would have to quarantine for two weeks.
          On 3/30, the day we were to arrive at their home, Denis gave us a good laugh— a picture of their yard:

Denis and Christiane's yard the day we were to arrive for our two-month trip together.

So we consoled ourselves that though we thought we'd been prepared for the cold, perhaps a summer trip to the Maritimes might be better.
We thought we'd go to the Southwest instead, and we'd still go to Bellingham in June for Devon's graduation. But it soon became obvious that there would be no trips--and no ceremony for Devon:-(.    

On the positive side, we've been able to take day trips to visit Marilyn's children and grandchildren in Davis, outside and socially distanced. But we haven't seen Doug's kids in over a year.
          We finally decided in August that it would be safe to do a mid-week camping trip which, being retired, we can do. We headed for Courtright Reservoir in the Sierras, Marilyn's first visit and Doug's first in decades. Courtright is part of PG&E's Helms hydroelectric project. During the day, Courtright's water runs through the turbines into Wishon Reservoir below. At night, water from Wishon is pumped back up to Courtright (History of Courtright Reservoir).

Courtright Reservoir at 8,000 feet in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

The drive to Dinky Creek, at about 6,000 feet, is easy, but the 35 miles from there to Courtright, at 8,000 feet, is on a one-and-a-half-lane, steep, windy road, and with all the traffic took us over two hours.


Uncle Robert, Trapper Springs Campground, Courtright Reservoir

          We settled into an unpopulated loop of Trapper Springs Campground. In the lean cool air above the Valley's heat, we read, 

Doug relaxing and reading at Courtright.

walked, and explored the other side of the reservoir, which entailed driving across the top of the dam on the one-lane road. With the reservoir on the driver's side, Doug smiled as we crossed, while Marilyn got vertigo looking down the sheer 315-foot drop of the dam face.

Regrettably, the water at Courtright was too cold for Marilyn to enjoy a swim.

          Soon, Courtright, like much of California and the West, was surrounded by wildfire. Pervasive smoke made the air quality everywhere dangerous and kept us not only at home but inside much of the time for weeks. 

Sun at midday from our backyard during wildfires in the nearby mountain forests.

          Fast forward to our next tour in Uncle Robert. On Christmas Day, we headed to the General Grant Tree, the Nation's Christmas Tree, in Kings Canyon National Park. Winter is beautiful in the San Joaquin Valley, with the snow-capped Sierras as backdrop to fields, orchards, and dairies.

Our county, Tulare, has been called an island surrounded by cows.

Mandarins waiting to be picked.

Olive grove.

Kiwi vines.

Walnut orchard.

The General Grant Tree is a short walk from the parking through a grove of mixed conifers and numerous Giant Sequoias. 

It was wonderful to see so many families out enjoying the day,
mostly Hispanic.


The General Grant Tree, the Nation's Christmas Tree, a 1,500-plus-year-old Giant Sequoia, the second largest tree in the world.


General Grant Tree is above Marilyn's head.


General Grant Tree is to Marilyn's left. Like 90% of the folks there, we, too, wore masks.


Marilyn loves this view as you turn off 180 from Kings Canyon NP on 63, heading back down into the valley.

          A few days after Christmas, we headed into the foothills again, destination the Intermountain Nursery in Prather. The goal was also to get a feel for the van's ride for comparison with the new tires we'd be testing in a few days. Though the nursery was closed, we still enjoyed exploring country roads and marveling at the crops that our valley produces.

Oranges awaiting harvest.
Packing shed owners tell the farmers when to pick.


Highly skilled farmworkers pruning stone fruit
(plum, peach, apricot, etc.) orchard.


Stone fruit trees awaiting pruning.


Dairy farm: bales of hay under the roofs to keep dry,
winter wheat in the field, while last year's crop—sileage—
is under the white plastic tarps.


Dairy feed—sileage—storage. The round black items are actually cut tires used for weight to hold down the white tarp.


Dairy cows...


...and of course, happy California cows grazing.


Fields awaiting planting.


Doug, who appears to need a haircut, with mask hanging on shifter, always at the ready.


Walnut grove just down the street from home. Adjacent is a pecan grove (not in the picture).


Sierras viewed from just down the street from our home.

          Doug spent New Year's Eve day having new mud and snow tires put on the van, so on 1/1/21, we took another foothill tour, in order to test out the new tires. It was a beautifully clear day as we headed east toward Exeter, past the Valley's rich agricultural lands with the Sierras rising beyond.

Exeter orange groves and snow-capped Sierras.


Pistachio grove with olives behind.

Soon after Lemon Cove, we turned off 198, crossed Dry Creek, and turned onto Dry Creek Rd, which Doug so enjoys driving as it is less than two lanes wide and very twisty.

Dry Creek Rd winds through the foothills.


In winter, water-thirty sycamore trees are dormant.


The Sierra foothills are strewn with rocks...


...and boulders

We're reminded of hiking in the rocky Catskills in NY when Marilyn's son was in medical school. He said the local lore is that god created the world in six days and on the seventh, he threw rocks at the Catskills.

.
There are numerous cattle ranches in the foothills,
with chutes and corrals for branding.

Fall, summer, and winter in the foothills are a different kind of beauty than in spring, when wildflowers bloom. 

The foothills are beautiful year round. 

In spring, California poppies paint the hillsides gold,...

...yellow fiddleneck and mustard, blue lupine, white popcorn flower,... 

and redbud trees color the fields and roadsides.


Valley oak and live oak grow throughout the Valley and foothills.

If it's been a good rain and snow winter, Dry Creek will rush and overflow its banks as it descends from the Sierras to the Valley floor.

There are canyons—Pogue, Arrastra, Ragel, McKee, Indian, Liveoak, Fridley, General; creeks—Ridenhour, Fridley, Oak Knob, Hot Spring, Wagonshed, Bear, Fly, Elder; ridges—Bill Moore, Beckett's Backbone, Sulphur, Sheep—whose names or even existence we know only when we see them on a map.

          Near Mountain House, which has not great food but lovely views, we decide to test the tires a little further. They are perhaps a little noisier than the old, but they seem to hold the road better. So we turn off on Eshom Valley Rd. and begin to climb. We're soon treated to views of the Mineral King Range.

Snow-capped Mineral King Range

Snow begins to appear on the roadsides as we approach the small community of Hartland at 5,000 feet.

Hartland is known for camps and second homes.

Soon snow is all around as we drive through the small community. Almost immediately after exit the town at the other end, the road abruptly is covered in snow. A sign says nothing ahead will be plowed. Doug executes an 8-point, 180-degree turn, which allows the new tires to prove that they can do well in ice and snow. 

Hartland homes.


Fine snowman in field in Hartland.

Soon we are back on bare asphalt. Doug, is now able to appreciate the view of Mineral King, including Sawtooth, which he has hiked over a few times and is dreaming of doing again in summer 2021 (gotta dream!).

Aptly named Sawtooth is to the right of center in the Mineral King Range of the Sierras.

          Soon we are back on the Valley floor, passing newly planted citrus orchards the glorious Southern Sierra Nevada as backdrop.

Windmills protect citrus groves on frosty nights.

          The second week of January, we headed again to the Intermountain Nursery in Prather—we called ahead to be sure they'd be open. 

It's just so pretty looking out across the pastures and fields to the foothills and mountains.


Old windmills and water tanks stand sentinel in fields.


We passed vineyards that had been pruned,


vineyards that hadn't,


and nursery stock for vineyards.


We drove down roads with stone fruit orchards on one side and citrus on the other and in the distance palm trees and the foothills.


There were fields of blushing blueberry bushes...


...and bee boxes waiting to be set in orchards in spring.

Penstemon at Intermountain Nursery.

         It's always a treat to wander around Intermountain Nursery, known for its California native and drought tolerant plants. We converted our front lawn to a drought tolerant garden a number of years ago and bought a Santa Margarita penstemon and a Nuevo Leon Sage to add to it.

Our drought tolerant front yard last winter.

          A different route home took us past Table Mountain Casino, owned and operated by Table Mountain Rancheria. A steady stream of cars lined up to enter the parking lot. 

Entrance to Table Mountain Casino.

Adjacent to the casino loom a new casino and hotel under construction. One might say the Indians are further desecrating the land near Millerton Lake, but didn't we desecrate their land? And far more appalling are the monstrous homes in developments of  spreading like  malignant spores on the other side of the highway.

New larger casino and hotel under construction at Table Mountain.

We have so much to learn from the First Peoples about the earth, the environment, and, particularly in the West, how to avoid the disastrous wildfires of the last few years brought on by climate change and not understanding forest and prairie management. 

The valley's oaks, their majestic structure silhouetted against the sky, have stood through it all.

          While 2020 did not permit our usual meanders far and wide, we are fortunate to live where meandering near home also provides adventure and nourishment to the soul.