(Remember that you can view the photos as a slideshow by clicking on any photo.)
We had been checking the trail closure maps, wondering when it would be safe to hike in Sequoia National Park after the disastrous fires. As soon as the trails opened, we headed north, hoping that some of our favorite trees had survived. (Spoiler alert: some of them did, and some didn't.)
June 9: We arrived in the late afternoon and snagged a boondocking site in the Sequoia National Forest, south of Grant Grove. There was a full moon, and I took yet another "little trailer in the big forest" shot:
They were carpeting the forest floor:
We came across a really interesting fungus -- not as pretty as the wildflowers, but with a very complex geometric shape. I think this is a tetrahedral dodecahedron -- that's the shape, not the species. It was about three inches in diameter. During our many, many trips to the Sequoia area, we've never seen anything like this:
When we arrived at the grove, we were relieved to see that the Sentinel (not its official name) was still standing guard, albeit with some fresh burn scars:
Amazingly, there were a few downed logs that were still smoldering, even though the fire was extinguished almost a year ago:
As we approached H&W, our hearts sank -- we could see that they were badly damaged and probably would not survive:
Compare those shots to these, taken in 2016:
The sense of grief was overwhelming, bringing us both to tears. What are the chances that so many of these iconic and massive trees, thousands of years old, would have perished during our brief lifetimes? After so many hot, smoky summers, and after this particularly painful loss, we felt as though we were experiencing planetary doom in real time.
As we were despondently packing up our camera equipment, a bit of comic relief arrived. Even though we were in a very remote portion of the grove, far from the trail, a young forest ranger suddenly appeared. Seeing our equipment (and our REI-intensive hiking outfits), he asked, "Are you guys scientists?!"
(I did say "a bit" of comic relief. Not exactly the Marx Brothers, but it'll have to do.)
June 12: To recover a modicum of optimism, we hike the North Grove trail, near Grant Grove. North Grove suffered a catastrophic fire several years ago that killed some of the mature sequoias. But others survived, and the forest has begun to recover.
Many of the giants were untouched by the fire. Felice is at the base of the tree:
While I was taking that picture of Felice, she took one of me as I stood across the creek at the base of another healthy monarch:
There were big clumps of California mountain lilac:
After a nice hot hike, we cooled down in Big Meadows Creek:
Before heading back to the trailer, we stopped in at Montecito Sequoia Lodge, to see how they were doing after Covid and the fires. Our old friends, the Three Bears, welcomed us back:
We were very pleased to find that the lodge is doing just fine -- the fires were held at bay, and the surrounding forest is still beautiful. We've spent many happy summers (and winters) at Montecito, and we are looking forward to many more.
June 12: We left our idyllic boondocking site and moved south to Lodgepole Campground, which is less idyllic but more well-located -- closer to the trailheads.
June 13: We took the Lakes Trail out of Wolverton and headed for the Watchtower portion of the trail -- not as steep as the dreaded Hump, but narrow and cliffy. The round trip was more than nine miles, with a 2000 foot gain topping out near 9000 feet.
The first part of the trail was shady and cool -- the forest floor was carpeted with wildflowers. I have tried (and failed) to identify the little blue guys in the photo below -- they have four petals, two blue and two white:
We came around a bend in the trail and there was a fairly big bear not far away, busily clawing at an old stump in search of grubs. Before we could whip out our cameras, he ran away.
The shredded stump did not run away:
The view of Tokopah Canyon from the Watchtower was grand:
There weren't many wildflowers clinging to the cliffs, but this Indian paintbrush deserved a photo:
There were still a few snowdrifts up at Heather Lake, at around 9000 feet:
Hands down, this next shot is my favorite photo of this entire trip. Felice has "cremnophobia," anxiety brought on by steep cliffs. It is a little different from acrophobia (fear of high places). She does fine in high places, as long as she is not on the very edge of a sheer cliff on a narrow trail, with nothing between herself and the cliff, where any false step could be fatal. (Wait -- this does not sound like an unreasonable phobia -- it sounds pretty darn rational, doesn't it?)
There are many hiking trails (especially in the Sierra) that are scratched into the sides of sheer cliffs -- so Felice can't let those cliffs stop her from hiking. In the past, she would have to force herself to inch along the worst parts of those cliffy trails.
But not this time -- she triumphed over her fear! In this photo, she is just inches away from a two thousand foot cliff:
When we got back to the Watchtower overlook, thick fog had obscured the view:
On the long hike back down, a big marmot struck a noble pose for us:
More triumphant celebration:
This particular trail crosses several small streams. The willows and the ferns were going strong, drenching the meadows in "extreme early summer green" (a new name for an old color). Felice had to wave a red bandana so that I could see her:
Amazingly, in all of the years we have taken the Tokopah Falls trail, we had never taken the time to go off-trail to see the cascades:
Mercifully, the trail to the falls was mostly in the shade. The lupine in this canyon were a slightly different color than those in the Wolverton area (more purple than blue). I'm not sure if this is just random variation or a different species:
While we waded (carefully) near the cascade, our boots demanded a "two-shot" of their own:
It was a hot day -- just perfect for a snowmelt head-soak:
Half a mile farther upriver, we came upon another refreshing off-trail cascade:
Tokopah Falls was, frankly, less spectacular than it usually is in mid-June -- not as much snowmelt. Also, the sky was smoky, and there were more people at the falls than we usually see. It's still not too shabby, though:
The view of the Watchtower, two thousand feet above us, was marred by the smoke:
On our way down, the smoke cleared a little, giving us a better view:
After we got back to the trailer, we had time to do a little more wading in the river, followed by the time-honored ritual of the Snacking Circle. Even in a semi-crowded campground, with the background hum of generators, and even with the smoky light, it was still very pleasant:
(And yes, that is a bandage on my leg -- a minor scrape while clambering into the stream. An honorable wound, suffered in a worthwhile venture.)
