The hoodoos and fins of Bryce Canyon

9/13/2013-9/14/2013

When I visited Bryce as a kid, it was during the early spring, and it ended up being snowed out. There wasn’t much to see. This time, it was rained out – both days I was there it was raining sporadically, but at least I could see something. More than any other park, it was different than I remembered. I’d pictured a small, deep canyon with lots of hoodoos. And between the hoodoos (which are the tall stone towers), the sort of slot canyons you’d see elsewhere.

But Bryce is not like that at all. To start with, Bryce Canyon is not a canyon, but rather the edge of a plateau. Second, the rock is very crumbly, and between the hoodoos is quite a bit of fine sand, small shrubs, and so forth.

Rain much?

Like Zion, the park was feeling the ill-effects of too much rain. In this case, a few trails were shut down due to rockslides and hazardous conditions. The trails that were open and not puddled, had sand which congealed together to become a rubbery and bouncy. It was a lot of fun to hike on, actually. The parts that were puddles had a rainbow of sand: orange & red, of course, but also white, purple and pink – quite vibrant when wet, like an oil spill.

I began by hiking the ‘Fairyland Loop,’ an 8 mile trail with some really spectacular views. Although this trail is part of Bryce Canyon, it’s technically a geologically separate section of the park. As with the Grand Canyon, you go downhill first and then have to climb back out. With the weather fluctuating as it was, the sun appeared sporadically and lit up some of the landscape features, then disappeared. By the time I’d reached the rim again, it was mostly gone.

Tree near the canyon rim

After this hike I headed back to my campsite, was driven out by someone running a generator (which is really obnoxious, like camping next to a lawnmower), and went to do some reading near the rim. But the rain was really pouring, so after pulling into the parking lot I watched people running around trying to get to their cars, which if anything was even more fun than hiking.

Among the hoodoos along the Queen’s Garden trail

Nonetheless, after the showers passed I went for another hike, this time a 6 mile loop including several trails: Queen’s Garden and Peek-A-Boo; I’d wanted to incorporate Navajo, but unfortunately it was closed. The dark black clouds on the horizon and the relative quiet in the canyon made for a unique experience. The Queen’s Garden and Navajo Loops are advertised as the ‘best 3 mile hike in the world,’ in the park newsletter, and for once I think it might not be an exaggeration. It really is a spectacular trail, as you wind, twist and turn between different hoodoos. The settler Bryce, after which the canyon is named, remarked that it would be a ‘hell of a place to lose cattle,’ and that’s for sure. With tons of weird rocks and twisted trees, it felt like walking in one of Gaudi’s buildings. My only regret is that by this point I was racing against rainclouds and approaching night.

The Under the Rim trail headed away from the main canyon

That night it rained again, and the following day I woke up early to do what I hoped would be a long-distance hike. The weather threatened the whole hike, of which I only ended up doing about 10 miles. This was along the backcountry ‘Under the Rim’ trail, which I discovered hikes away from the main canyon. It was nice enough, but a far cry from the splendor of the hoodoos.

The hat shop, different from the rest of the canyon

There was one section with perhaps the most bizarre geological sight I’ve seen on the trip. This was the ‘Hat Shop,’ which was a sort of mockery of the rest of the canyon. Basically boulders had been sitting on a ridge, which eroded. Because of the nature of the rock and sand underneath, the boulders provided shelter from rain and remained stranded on these pinnacles. I don’t think they’re technically hoodoos, but either way, seeing dozens of these standing next to the trail, which remained on the ridge, was pretty funny.

When it’s not raining, the clouds in Utah can be quite striking

Although I love visiting these parks – the Utah parks in particular are spectacular – the fact is that there’s not a whole lot to do in them. You can hike, sometimes raft or kayak, and visit the visitor center and gift shop. However, there’s not a whole lot of hiking trails, if you move at a decent rate. I exhausted the bulk of the non-closed trails in two days, covering all the major trails in really the first day – a day that was filled with rain. If you just want to relax and camp out for a while, of course, you can easily do that. But that in itself can be a challenge when you’re alone: reading is really one of the only options.

Each night I was at Bryce, the campground completely filled up; there were cars eagerly circling during the whole afternoon, looking for an open site. Leaving early the next day I headed for Capitol Reef, which I hoped would be quieter.

The new route home

A month ago I began considering a new route home. I had originally planned to head straight east from Cheyenne, Wyoming all the way back to New Jersey. But I started thinking about traveling through the deep south. I’ve never visited Louisiana, Mississippi or Alabama. And there’s some sites that are interesting to me – mostly Civil War battlefields. So, I’m now planning on cutting south, and checking out Vicksburg, Shiloh, Chickamauga. I’ve visited a lot of battlefields, but these are all new to me. Then I’m planning on heading in the direction of DC, and maybe revisiting Antietam and Gettysburg on the way back to NY. There’s some other smaller sites I plan on visiting in between, but this is the rough outline of my route home from Wyoming.

Grand Canyon from the rim

9/4/2013-9/5/2013

Like many of the parks I’ve been to on this trip, I had visited the Grand Canyon as a kid, and I remember I wasn’t particularly impressed.

On this visit I changed my mind: the Grand Canyon really is spectacular. I’d consider it one of the three AAA parks in the country, in terms of size and visitors (the other two being Yosemite and Yellowstone). There’s the normal multiple parking lots, shuttle service, etc. The funny thing is that there’s not a whole lot to do in the park – a few overlooks, a small museum, a few videos, and the famous lodges. The hiking along the rim is minimal, and extensive hiking below the rim is discouraged. The park is particularly popular with German tourists: I think 1/3 of the visitors were German!

Another view – crowds on the rim

The canyon is quite a shock. To start with, the area around the canyon is exceedingly dull, so you’re lulled into complacency. It’s the highlands (7,000 feet elevation) and flat, it’s relatively temperate and covered in low ponderosa forests. There’s no indication of anything like the canyon until you’re right at the very rim. The canyon is 10 miles across at parts, 6000 feet deep, 250 miles long.

Arriving at the park my first priority was to find a campsite: tough in a park this large, on the weekend. I asked in the visitor center and got a very confused volunteer who seemed to think they were full, but I decided to head to the campsite anyway, and they thankfully had plenty of spaces.

Then I took a shuttle to the rim and walked along. Like all these parks, the major overlooks were full but the rest of the trails were empty. At one point I had to edge past a grazing doe elk. These are really lawn mowers, the amount of grass it consumed, and the speed at which it consumed it, was astonishing.

Switchbacks in the canyon

The crazy thing about this (and other parks, like Crater Lake) is that the trails are right next to the rim, and for the most part there are no railings. Generally there’s 5 feet or so between the trail and the rim, so you won’t accidentally fall off or anything. But the parks basically trust you not to be stupid. And although I saw people doing stuff that turned my stomach (standing or sitting right above 200+ foot drops), the park service is right. There’s a book in the visitor center, “Death at the Grand Canyon,” and apparently only about 2 people per year fall off. Usually a guy in his early twenties “jumping from ledge to ledge for a photo op” and some elderly person who gets bewildered. I would have thought it would be much worse.

Elk near my site: bigger than a car!

The next day I was woken up early by some door slams, and also by what sounded like a really creaky restroom door. But when I left my tent and began to pack my bags and brush my teeth, I was shocked to look up and see a buck elk in the campsite adjacent to me. I never realized just how big some of these elk can be. When he ambled past on the road he dwarfed the car in a nearby campsite. The sound elk make is totally ridiculous, like a cross between a creaking door and a tuba (it’s known as a ‘bugle’). I saw some other people watching the elk and cracking up every time it bugled.

Afterwards I packed up for my big hike of the day (actually one of the big hikes of the trip). I wanted to hike from the rim, down to the Colorado river, and back. 15 miles down and up; a vertical mile of elevation gain from the Colorado river to the rim. There are plenty of signs about this hike, warning that it is dangerous. There’s even a sign saying “can you run a marathon?” about someone who ran in the Boston Marathon a few years ago and died on the hike. But reading the details, I was more impressed by her poor preparation than the difficulty of the hike.

The trail down

I packed a ton of water, (running out and suffering from dehydration is the biggest risk), bringing 1 and a half gallons. I was able to set out early, leaving at 6:55. This was the first hike where I started by going down and had to head back up at the end, and as I proceeded further and further down, I grew more and more nervous about the amount I’d have to ascend. Digging myself a proverbial hole! It looked as though it would be a rough return trip. A vertical mile is quite a bit: I was going down switchbacks for 6 miles, 2 and a half hours. It can be tough on the feet and knees.

These guys are used to move supplies and sometimes people

At the bottom I ran into a guy from Seattle and we talked and hiked for about an hour, had some snacks, took some pictures. He went to the ranch, near the river, for a beer, while I started my return trip. There are two bridges across the river, and it’s funny that they’re right next to each other. The reason is that when the park service formed the park, a private owner fought back via lawsuit and wouldn’t sell their trail into the canyon, so the park service constructed their own. Now both impressive suspension bridges are part of the park.

The plain towards the base of the canyon

At the base of the canyon it’s impossible to even see the rim. The reason: the top layers of the canyon are sandstone, which eroded quickly and broadly. When lower layers (the so-called ‘basement layer’) were hit, they were much tougher and eroded narrowly. So you only see this steep lower layer from down below. This also yields a sort of flat, grassy plain about 3/4 of the way down the canyon.

The Indian Garden, deep in the canyon

I started the hike up with some trepidation. It began flat and sandy, meandering along the river and then slowly ascending near a small tributary before hitting switchbacks. At one point you pass through what’s known as the ‘Indian Garden,’ a flat area with plenty of water that features incongruously green trees and dense growth. It’s a beautiful, calm location with the canyon walls rising far above.

There are strange spotted squirrels; those at the north and south rim are colored differently

It turned out that this was probably the best hike I’ve done, in terms of how I felt. The trip up was 9 miles (compared to 6 on the way down), and grew more strenuous as I went. For 8 of those mile I cruised smoothly, passing through a brief rainshower, but never feeling out of breath. This was the second hike where I felt so good, the first being Rainier. After 5 sedentary years I finally felt like my body was operating like it should.

Whoops!

I didn’t want to stop hiking and took few pictures; I didn’t even need much water. Everything was just incredibly smooth. I want to be clear, it was comparatively cool and the clouds obscured the sun for half the hike. The hike is no joke and was the most strenuous I’ve done on the trip. I wouldn’t take it lightly. But everything seemed to come together. When I looked at my watch I found I’d reached the rim in a mere 3 and a half hours – to cover 9 miles and a 5000 feet of elevation gain! My rate of ascent was the same as my rate of descent. I was incredibly proud of the hike and made myself sick with a half gallon of milk, ice cream sandwich, and box of candy as a reward.

Bright Angel Bridge across the river

The rest of the day I relaxed and read, and the following morning I headed south to Sedona.

The famous Joshua Tree, deep in the Mojave

9/2/2013-9/4/2013

I left Sequoia with the intention of traveling only for an hour or two, but ended up cutting south and then east across the desert to the very border of Joshua Tree National Park, a drive of 7-8 hours. The driving was easy and the roads straight and in good repair.

Hit a milestone!

Route 66 no longer exists, but there are dozens of chunks scattered across the desert. You see signs for these on some of the modern highways, and parts of the route have been co-opted into other roads. What I saw was not all that different from other highways, with the exception that there were a lot more traffic lights.

I ended up sleeping at a Wal-Mart in Yucca Valley, right outside Joshua Tree, and then heading into the park early the next morning.

A common desert lizard.

Joshua Tree is famous for two things: the eponymous trees and its distinctive piles of large boulders. It’s situated where the Mojave Desert meets the Colorado – they each have distinct ecologies. There are four deserts in the United States, the hottest being the Mojave; surprising to me is that most of the southwest is not considered desert at all.

The Joshua Tree is neither a Joshua nor a tree. It is a yucca. These bizarre trees form widely-spaced ‘forests’ that look like something from a Doctor Seuss book. It’s really an awkward plant and can grow up to 25 feet high. The bark, which is formed from old leaves, is tough and fibrous. It was used by native americans for a variety of purposes, including the production of rope.

“Here is where Worth Bagley bit the dust at the hand of W.F. Keys, May 11 1943”

After entering the park I grabbed a campsite at Jumbo Rocks and headed towards Ryan Mountain – but just before I set out on my hike I turned back to check my car was locked… and found it hissing. Bad sign – there was a leak in one tire, presumably caused by the gravel all over the roads (a result of flash floods).

So I had to head back out to town to get the tire patched. Luckily, there are three fairly large towns near Joshua Tree (Yucca Valley, 29 Palms and Joshua Tree). After an hour waiting around, the job was done (for $20… I won’t complain).

View from Ryan Mountain

Then it was back to the mountain, although by this time it was after 10am and getting hot. Actually it was never as hot as I anticipated – although the thermometer hit 105 degrees the temperature could be cool in the shade. It was the intense sun that could prove grueling on some hikes. However, this 4 mile round trip, with an elevation gain of 1300 feet wasn’t that bad. And the views were nice – all around the desert and many of the rock piles were visible. Here on the summit it was actually comfortable – a slight breeze was enough to keep the temperature tolerable.

Lost Horse Mine – perhaps the stereotypical gold mine.

After finishing that hike, I went on another – a 6 mile loop to an abandoned mine. There’s a lot of enduring evidence of people in the desert here. A mile in, a rock shack. And then the mine itself – an operation which produced 9000 ounces of gold and at one point employed 30 people, it looked exactly like an old west mine. Its elderly owner, alone at the mine, was found dead in 1926 and it’s been abandoned ever since.

Jackrabbits are an occasional sight. They’re tolerant of people and use their ears to regulate heat.

It was neat to traipse around here. There were a lot of smashed, contemporary beer bottles, nails, cans, and other artifacts. The mine itself was neat, but unfortunately it was fenced in and impossible to look inside.

The results of a desert wildfire. Absolute desolation.

During the rest of the hike I really began to appreciate the power of the sun – it was draining in the same way as altitude sickness, though more subtle: you simply moved slower than normal. Thankfully, deep cloud cover provided me some shelter – but the 6 mile hike felt like 9. Along the way there were a ton of Joshua trees to look at. The cliches in the visitor’s center are that the desert is full of life, and that is true in a way. Most of the ground is covered with some sort of brush, there are joshua trees and yucca, birds and hundreds of small, lightning-fast lizards.

The gorgeous Jumbo Rocks campground

That night I stayed out of my tent and climbed some rocks near my site, where I was able to watch the stars come out. It was quite a show: about an hour after sundown the Milky Way was visible, and there were several shooting stars, many planes flying to LAX, satellites, and of course the stars. Many, many times more stars than are visible on the East Coast (the dry desert air makes a huge difference in visibility – and of course the distance from people). The lack of stars is one of the most disappointing things, for me, about NYC. Only perhaps 10 (!) are visible through all the streetlights. Here there were thousands and thousands.

There was still water behind the dam in the beginning of September.

The next morning I wanted to check out a few shorter trails: Barker’s Dam and Wall Street Mill. In addition to mining, there were people ranching out here (in the desert!) the climate grew drier at the start of 20th century and the ranches began to disappear. The dam remained a small oasis: there were willows and other trees, hundreds of tiny spotted toads; desert mountain goats are reputed to be in the area, though I saw none. It was a beautiful area and a natural oasis even before the dam: there are ancient indian petroglyphs. These so-called ‘Disney Petroglyphs’ were painted over to make them more visible for the production of an early film.

Abandoned car near the Wall Street Mill

From the same parking lot, a trail leads to part of another mining operation, the ‘Wall Street Mine’ – named in 1929 before the crash. There’s a ton of abandoned stuff out there: a pueblo, multiple trucks, a windmill, and a mining mill for separating ore. It’s crazy seeing these old cars in the middle of nowhere – just pure desolation. They’re in pretty good condition, considering.

The mill, and rock piles.

After this hike I headed into town, having found the heat of a sunny day simply too much to be outside. The clouds returned again and I went and climbed around around some of the rock piles. These look pretty simple to climb from a distance, but the rocks are much larger than they look, the gaps broad or deep. It would easy to get wedged in or fall 20+ feet. I enjoyed wandering around, using my very basic climbing techniques. But I found that in many cases it was possible to easily climb up some section but very tough to get back down… it’s easy to get trapped.

An iguana, pretty rare in the park

I got stuck for a while and was slow getting back to the campground, which I found rained out. I’d unfortunately set up my tent right in the path of flooding and found everything soaked. No problem, it just smelled like gym clothes.

Climbed this pile of rocks, which is about 50 feet high.

The following morning I left extremely early to head to the Grand Canyon, in Arizona.

The biggest living thing on earth, with crowd for comparison.

9/1/2013-9/2/2013

Sequoia National Park, adjacent to King’s Canyon, has a lot more than sequoias; in fact, the Sierra Nevadas turn out to be more awe-inspiring than the trees.

View of the Sierras from near Muir Grove

Sequioa is a short trip from Cedar Grove in King’s Canyon. It’s a strange park – all the roads are on the west side and the bulk of the park is only accessible by overnight backpacking. There’s a lot going on, actually: mountains, sequoias and even caves. On the first day I grabbed a campsite – very tough on labor day weekend and I got one of the last two available. Good timing!

Past the Muir Grove, this isolated open area had a great view.

From the campground, the John Muir grove of sequoias was accessible two miles away. A simple hike, the grove is very impressive. These trees aren’t much smaller than the famous ones the crowds adore, but I had them to myself. Pushing past the grove I had a beautiful view of the Sierra Nevada range. I read for a while on the rocks nearby and then returned to the campground.

Some of the pines have these huge cones; the cones for sequoias are surprisingly much smaller.

Later I wanted to go on another hike directly from the campground, but it was impossible to find the trail. Instead I took the shuttle bus to the General Sherman tree – the biggest living thing on earth. Like many of these large trees, it’s tough to get a feel for the size, especially since the tree is protected by a fence.

The trail to Moro Rock

There was another short (3 mile), unoccupied trail by which I returned to the visitor center. Waiting for the bus back I talked to an intern who was measuring how many people used the bus on the busy weekends (quite a few). And the bus – one of the last trips of the day – was filled with Jamaicans who were on an exchange program, working for the park.

I’m in a tree.

The next morning I hit some of the major attractions early, before they got crowded. I drove my car through a tree trunk – a rare honor! And I hiked the stairs up to Moro Rock, which had the very best view I’ve seen so far – hampered though it was by some fog and the low sun. This rock promontory stands far out in the middle of nowhere. The twisted stairs and slants up to the summits were pretty stomach-turning for those with an aversion to heights, but it was worth it to me.

‘Curtains’ in Crystal Caverns

I also visited one of the many caves in the park (but the only one open to the public). This ‘crystal cavern’ is the first ‘normal’ cave I’ve visited on the trip, with the usual calcium carbonate stalactites, columns, ribbons, and so forth. It had some of the best formations I’ve seen anywhere. I volunteered and was able to be the last person in line, so I was able to turn around a lot and look at the empty cave behind me, which is a special treat.

One tiny section of King’s Canyon

8/29/2013-8/31/2013

Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Park lie east of San Francisco, in the Sierra Nevada mountains. These are an interesting combination – they’re jointly administered but remain separate parks. Kings Canyon actually has a small disjoint section to the west, next to Sequoia, that acts as a gateway to both parks, and which features only sequoias, while the main park is 30 miles to the east. Both parks are nestled inside a national forest, show the beauty of the Sierra Nevada, and prominently feature sequoias. It doesn’t make much sense to me. I knew little about King’s Canyon before I visited; apparently Muir called it a “second Yosemite,” which is strong praise!

General Grant tree: by presidential edict, the nation’s Christmas tree.

After passing through the entrance, I stopped to visit the General Grant tree. This is the 3rd largest living thing in the world; the trunk is 40 feet wide and it’s 280 feet tall.

Sequoias are a strange tree. They’re enormous – as big as a really big tree – and the larger among them have really peculiar bark. They really look like paper mache or something. The top of the trees is also misshapen, so they have none of the elegant beauty of redwoods. The same compound that allows redwoods to grow so large is present in sequoias: tannin, which limits damage from fire and insects.

After checking out the sequoias, I drove the 30 miles to the canyon itself. Along the way I stopped at one overlook and took a few pictures, not impressed. It looked like every forested valley, ever. But then the road turned a corner and I saw the true canyon itself. I was gobsmacked. It’s a huge canyon – measuring over 8,000 feet deep in most places – and composed mostly of exposed granite and sparse conifers.

I proceeded to the only accessible section of the canyon, Cedar Grove, at the very floor and next to the river which carved the canyon. It has a few campgrounds, a small lodge, a ranger station and a general store. An important bridge over the river was closed making travel between sections of this area circuitous.

The summit of the Lewis Creek trail.

After grabbing a camping site and talking to a ranger, I went on a hike. This was on the Lewis Creek trail; many of the trails are similar. The problem is that the walls of the canyon are quite steep before opening out into a somewhat broader highland meadow, so they are all strenuous to begin with. But, the views are just spectacular.

View of just a small section of King’s Canyon.

The next day I’d decided to do an overnight hike, and settled on Copper Creek. This was ambitious for a variety of reasons: it was an 11-mile trail, which gained a vertical mile and finished at 10,500 feet. And I would be carrying 20 pounds more than I was used to, with an overnight pack and gear rather than my daypack. I knew I was in trouble almost from the start – pretty quickly my legs felt like jelly and I was gasping for breath.

Ad hoc tent support…

I made it 5-6 miles and about 2500 feet up, and had to set up camp. Unfortunately, I discovered that my purification tablets were for *already* potable water and so useless with the mountain streams; my fiberglass tent pole snapped as well. So I was considering turning back – I knew the downhill trek would be fast.

But a Czech couple arrived and I was able to get some iodine tablets from them, and then improvised a support for my tent, so I stayed the night. The campsite grew quite crowded with at least 4 groups there, some noisily arriving at 8 pm, after dark and with everyone else in their tent.

Early morning view from the Copper Creek trail, I believe with aldens in the foreground.

I awoke very early, packed, and headed out. On the easy downhill jaunt back, I was treated to some great early morning views of the canyon. The air was cool and I was looking forward to the treat I’d promised myself the next day: an ice cream sandwich and Mountain Dew.

More of King’s Canyon

Driving back along the canyon road, I passed a few ranger SUVs and an ambulance; there was a pickup about 50 feet off the road and terribly smashed up. The driver must have been going incredibly fast to get that far, and cause so much damage. The speed limit was only 35 in the area.

Almost immediately after passing this worrying sight, my check-engine light came on. This was the second time it had happened. The previous time, it had gone out and I never noticed any problems, so I hoped the case was the same here. But of course it’s the last thing you want 60 miles from civilization.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing in the campground (and not driving…). By sheer luck I found a wonderful site on the edge of the campground with a little stream running through it, so I was able to read and relax, preparing for my trip to Sequoia the next day.

The freakish ‘sheep crab’

8/26/2013-8/29/2013

After returning from San Francisco by train I drove after dark south to Monterey. There I was able to meet a friend’s mother the following morning (I also had a driveway to sleep in – always important!). The following morning I also received a really cool meteorite pendant. I don’t know how people can find meteors (and this came from the Congo!), but it’s neat to have something which was in outer space so recently.

This is what living sand dollars look like.

After breakfast I headed to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, supposedly the largest aquarium in the world. It’s in a really touristy area of a small city, but the aquarium itself has an impressive collection.

There are dozens of tanks of these etherial jellies

There’s a ton of exhibits featuring the usual suspects – crabs, starfish, sea cucumbers, crabs, various fish. There were a few special temporary exhibits: *two* with jellyfish, one with seahorses. I’ve seen a lot of jellyfish at aquariums, and these creatures are surprising crowd-pleasers. Although they have no active mental faculties, and thus no charisma, it’s easy to illuminate jellyfish with a blacklight and watch them elegantly float around, like a real-life screensaver. It’s a good deal for the aquarium, because these animals must be awful cheap to raise and maintain.

I loved these spotted jellyfish, which seemed to have more internal structure than the kind you normally see.

Another popular exhibit were small penguins, which waddle along, torpedo back and forth through the water, and generally act like little clowns. Similarly charismatic are sea otters, perhaps the most popular animals at the aquarium. They’re active, playful, and by nature assume adorable poses.

My favorite exhibit, though, was an opportunity to touch stingrays: their texture is very soft and quite unique, and it’s a rare thing to be able to feel these creatures.

Seals and ptarmigans, visible from viewing decks outside the aquarium.

There’s also an outside section to the aquarium, where a seal was hamming it up on a rock. It was much bigger than the rock and hardly looked comfortable, but it maintained its position and kept other seals from knocking it off. Sometimes it seemed to turn and look right at me through my telescope, with a huge grin on its face.

From the aquarium I drove east to Fresno. Surprisingly, Fresno is a city of 500 thousand people… that’s roughly the same size as Portland! I sequestered myself there in a cheap hotel for two days, catching up on things, charging all my devices, and writing blog posts…

I also had a decision to make: where to head next? I’d initially planned to visit Yosemite, but after mmuch deliberation decided to skip it for this trip. There were forest fires in the north of the park, and although those weren’t much risk, many of the roads and campgrounds were closed. Those that remained open were fully booked for the weekend. It was almost Labor Day, after all. So, I decided to head directly to King’s Canyon and spend more time there and in the other parks; I’d also be able to travel at a more relaxing pace rather than try to cram in all the parks in a rush. So, after my stay at the hotel I got back on the freeway and drove west.

This area is filled with fruit farms and is some of the most fertile land on earth, but what was surprising to me was how dry and arid the land around the fields was. Almost every drop of water must be carefully marshaled so that it goes to crops; the loose soil and lack of natural plants means that most rain must drain directly to reservoirs rather than remaining in the soil. Also in this farmland, I saw my first migrant workers, crouched over in the hot fields. What brutal work; it’s strange that this was the first time in my life that I’ve seen intensive non-mechanized farm labor.