MOUNTAINS AND FLOWERS

BY JIM AND SHIRLEY WHITE

We were not going to tell you about this. You know about our mountains but you don't know about the flowers this year. You know it is a year of drought, hot, dry, miserably dry. But somehow our joy of seeing so many flowers, so soon this year, is not so great if we don't tell you about it. I wanted to wait until the bloom was over, you would have never known. Shirley thought we should share. Maybe I will feel better once you know. I don't know.

Snow plants are everywhere. More than we have ever seen. I should have not even stopped to take this picture. They are so common this year. But yet I did.

Indian Pinks? It is too early I think. Are they crazy? It is too early, but there they were! I must take their picture too. I don't need any Indian Pinks mad at me.

Yellow Monkey flowers are everywhere on every canyon wall. What can one do? Drive right by? After all, we came to see the lakes and mountains too.

Hell Hole lake is a little low. But what the heck! It is wet and cold, and fishermen are catching lots of fish. Should we be sad? Remember? It is a drought year too.

Now French Meadows lake, it is really low this year. There will be no canoeing up the Middle Fork to photograph Osprey catching fish for us this year. I wonder if the old Forest Service cabin Shirley and I and our three kids used to stay in when it was snowing hard during deer season will show itself in the lowering lake? Sad thoughts of happy bygone days I guess.

Dogwood were in bloom from French Meadows up to Chipmunk Ridge like they always are in July. But hay! This is still May! Maybe a summer thunder storm will brighten up our sky. The Dogwood will need some rain in July this year for sure. 

This was Mt.Mildred last Sat.and I used to ski down that ridge coming down Chipmunk Ridge every June first ! Coming over from Alpine Meadows to French Meadows each late May to early June was always a blast.Guess Shirley and I will just have to hike up to the summit and see what it looks like in the summer for a change. Now that you know about our flowers and our secret Mt. Mildred ski trip, please....don't tell anybody. You see....even on the Memorial holiday, there was no one looking at the flowers and the mountains were all ours. 

Our Loneliest Friend

By Jim and Shirley White

We have had a visitor to our home the past few weeks. It is a Canada goose, one of the species of wild Canada Geese that have made this part of the Sierra foothills their yearlong home. He has flown into our small backyard livestock pasture to rest and feed on our abundant green grass. A few weeks ago we had a pair of geese that would come and feed for a while and then leave. They never spent the night here. The goose that is here now, has spent two days and nights here 24 hours each day, this past week. He leaves for an hour or two to go where we do not know? I saw him land about 6:30 A.M. this Sun. morning so he went somewhere either last night or real early this morning. We are on a sort of a flyway here with geese flying over headed out to the Country Club golf course, or perhaps another pasture in between. They call to our goose as they pass over but he just looks up and says nothing. About 10 days ago we had a pair land to visit him, cackling loudly as they landed but he lowered his head and charged them and ran them off. He seems very content to feed by himself, preens by the hour, or just stares at the pairs of Mocking birds that are nesting just below our pasture. I had to mow the pasture last week and hated to bother him but he just stood and watched as I rode the mower back and forth for at least an hour. He moved from place to place to get out of the way of the mower but acted like he could care less about me.

I think our goose likes us because when Shirley and I sit on our deck overlooking the pasture and the goose, he often looks up at us. Shirley talks to him all the time. She wants to name him but I don’t believe in giving wildlife human names. After all, they are not human and deserve better than that. The bird biologist have named the Canada Goose, “Branta Canadensis” but who in the world calls them that. I just call him “Our Loneliest Friend”.

IT'S WINTER AGAIN

by Jim & Shirley White

A friend was going to call but he did not. You see he knew it had snowed almost 2 feet in the Sierra and so the next day he knew very well where we would be. It used to be on skis heading up high. Now of course it is with the cameras, trying to capture that love we have for the Sierra when covered with snow. It was a Saturday and would have been crowded along I 80 in Placer Co. But it was not since the ski areas were closed, most of the ski-summer cabins around Donner Pass and Tahoe were empty since the season was wrong for most. Not for Shirley and I! When it snows we are gone that's for sure.

To us, when it snows, we almost feel young again. We look at those high ridges and pick our route.
You see we know every tree and rock along that route, and in our mind we are there, Our memories of those high ridges are there forever. Ski Heil!

California Spring

The recent rains saved our spring and permitted us travel to all our favorite Coast Range, valley and foothill flower and scenic sites once again. Photography of course is always our goal, but many views and wildlife sitings are just that....we get to view, but for many reasons we are not able to get that photo. It was worth the trip anyway.

Bear Valley in Colusa county was a wildflower bust, it just did not rain early or enough. However, a few miles north, Lodoga and Stonyford were great. Too bad there have been so many ticky-tacks built in the last few years in that area, but the flowers were there anyway. Table Mountain north of Oroville was the winner. Spectacular is the only way to describe Table Mountain. During Easter week Table Mountain was prime but the crowds took away some of the charm.

It is a tough time for farming and ranching in California this year. Water is worth more than gold. If you have water your can thrive. If not, hang on. Plants, flowers, trees, fish and wildlife, and ranchers and farmers....hang on and ride it out. Look closely, the beauty is still there. You just have to add a little imagination. We did, and now we share with you.

 

Alpine Valleys

By Jim White

We were at the Community Center in the Turtle Rock Campground in Alpine Co. last week celebrating the life and times of Fish and Game Warden Norm Reuther of Alpine County who died last month. Norm was a friend who loved the mountains and valleys of Alpine Co. and tried to spend every day of his life looking at this beauty. Someone said Norm would have loved the weather that day. You see it was raining and snowing outside, and Norm like me, loved a good storm. Norm was a friendly guy with a big smile who would have invited all of you to come up and see the beauty of the Alpine Valleys nearby. Bring your cameras and enjoy the beauty. I will sit in for Norm and tell you where to go.

Norm loved Diamond Valley. Take the road from Woodfords toward Markleeville about a mile and take the first county road to the left. This road will go thru Diamond Valley, past the settlement of Hung-A-Lei-Ti, home of the Southern Band of the Washoe Tribe and end up on highway 88 once again. We have wonderful memories of Diamond Valley. The first ranch house on the right is where my son Randy and I spent a few days many years ago, riding on horseback and exploring this valley. We had the whole ranch to ourselves and a full size pool table in the living room of the ranch house. There was an old fashion bathtub in the bathroom that my 12 year old son Randy could stretch out full length in and soak after a day of exploring.  Snowshoe Thompson had lived just down the street in the 1880’s where he had had a huge vegetable garden. He also delivered the mail each winter month on skis from Placerville over Echo Pass to Genoa in Carson Valley nearby. You cannot see it now but near where the cottonwood tree close-up picture in this piece was taken, was where Snowshoe’s house used to be and years ago I found some square nails near his root-cellar. Where the Diamond Valley road turns left if you go straight instead on the dirt road, I often find Mountain Lion tracks in the mud near the first gate. You might want to photograph the tall water tank in front of the village. It is covered in Indian paintings of objects of importance to the tribe. Be sure and photograph the West Fork of the Carson River to the west as you descend down the hill to the river and leave Diamond Valley.

Turn right on highway 88 and head down into Carson Valley. Once you cross the state line turn to the right and drive the many roads of the valley looking for old barns, horses, hayfields and memories of the way Carson Valley used to be. Some of the old time ranch houses and barns are still there and most of the time folks are friendly. If you meet an old-timer with wrinkled skin and a sweat soaked felt hat, you know he lived in Norm’s world and will welcome you to the beauty of his Alpine Valley. Better yet, wait for a summer thunderstorm with those towering clouds and see the real beauty of Carson Valley, the way Norm liked it.

 

BACK IN WINNEMUCCA

By Jim and Shirley White

The gust of wind hit the car like an express train along with a spray of that clear and pure Nevada rain. I stopped the Subaru on the shoulder of the Unionville road in Buena Vista valley, about 40 miles southwest of Winnemucca, Nevada to watch this video of nature. The rain squall passed over us and lingered in a canyon against the East Range Mountains. We could watch no longer without shooting some pixels so out we went in the light drizzle to photograph this scene. It was beautiful.

We were in Nevada to attend the 26^th edition of the “Shooting the West” photography symposium in Winnemucca.  This is a get together of photographers in Winnemucca to celebrate “Western Photography” thru a series of lectures, classes , vender exhibits and socializing with other photographers. One of the highlights of this event is the “Give it your best shot” photo exhibit in the East Hall of the Convention Center. We of course exhibit our prints and hope to win some cash for our efforts.

We were up in the Unionville- Buena Vista valley area one day before we attended the event because we like to photograph the old buildings of the early day mining village of Unionville, look for wild horses and antelope and also shoot some Nevada desert scenes. This little storm that passed thru the valley was just a little “blessing” or good luck that happened our way. We were a group of six from the Placer Camera Club that spent a good part of the day shooting among the old buildings, the Cottonwood trees, fences and flowers of this little hide-away.

Shirley and I like to explore so we broke away a little early from the group and wandered up the valley along the dirt road looking for some photo ops in the miles of sagebrush that seem to extend forever. A “House for Sale” sign up the valley a few miles at the fork of another dusty road caught our attention since we could not see a house in sight. With the use of glasses I could see a small square cabin a mile or so back toward and at the foot of the Humboldt Range. There has got to be some adventure here for sure.

The small square house was surrounded by a five foot stock fence with two barking dogs charging at me as I walked toward the gate in a strong north wind. There was a nice metal barn which looked like a 4 car garage and six small trees not more than 5 feet tall around the yard.  It was a really dry and parched looking homestead. An old man using a cane came out of the house shouting at me and I was not sure what he was shouting since the wind blew his sound away. I thought maybe we ought to run for it, but I stuck it out since there was a for sale sign on the fence nearby.  I don’t think he could have hit me with a shotgun with the wind blowing that hard.  The old man went inside and a woman came out the back door and headed for the fence. I stuck it out till she got to the fence and then met Alma. She said they were refugees from Idaho looking to get away from the crowds of Californians who had moved into Idaho. I said what a nice place they had and how much land went with the house. She said they had almost a one mile by one mile section of land (sagebrush) that went with the house and that their neighbor Bob was a really good neighbor. I asked where Bob’s house was and she pointed up towards the foot of the Humboldt Range and again using the glasses I could see a small square building of some sort. Alma said they had no phone service but could talk to Bob and did so daily by CB radio. They had a generator and their living room was underground under the house so it was nice and warm in the winter. She said they had lived there 18 years but her husband was on life support to stay alive and they thought they would move into town because the ambulance driver thought it was too far a drive from town for a simple heart attack. Her husband was on an implanted pace-maker which they had had trouble with. They had a 500 foot well and would we not come on in and stay for dinner? I asked how much for the spread and she said they had to get at least $300,000 which was how much they had into the property. After all it came with a 52 in.TV and a Satellite system. I thanked Alma for telling me about their house and we headed out towards town and our date for a Basque dinner at the Martin Hotel.

We photographed one Antelope and saw where a female Coyote and two pups had been killed along the road by a car. The dinner at the Martin was great and we can’t wait for next years “Shooting the West” Nevada experience. We’ll check back with Alma when we do come back next year and see if she will see her way to drop the price a little. A good neighbor like Bob is hard to find. 

CONNIE, AL THE WOP & THE PAINTED LADY

By Jim and Shirley White

The little Chinese lady smiled and walked thru her flower filled front yard toward us with a little brown paper bag in her hands. “I thought you might enjoy some Chinese cookies I just made” she said. And thus we met Connie, in the quaint little river town called Locke, a few miles up-stream from Walnut Grove along the Sacramento River.

Connie had a collection of toilet bowls around her front yard, all brimming with colorful flowers. These toilet bowl flower vases are what attracted us to Connie’s home. As photographers, for Shirley and I it was like a honey bee attracted to a flower. An hour of chatting with Connie, those many years ago while munching on her cookies was an experience in Locke we will long remember.

Game Warden Gene Durney is a name still remembered by the “old timers” in Locke as the “the “Scourge of the Delta” Gene was one of those wardens who could arrest one of the local Italian poachers netting Stripped Bass illegally at night and still be loved as a brother by the culprits. One late stormy night in November 1955 Gene and I (a lowly recruit warden, just starting out) walked into “Al the Wops” in Locke where we were greeted by Al the Wop himself, behind the bar, a house full of heavy drinkers who all yelled out greetings to Gene. One guy said “he was going out to pull his nets right away since Gene was where they could keep an eye on him”. The house roared with laughter and one lady at the bar sallied up to Gene and gave him a wet kiss on the mouth. As we sat down for dinner in a back booth I asked Gene who the “painted lady” who gave him the kiss was? He had a hard time hearing me with all the noise in the bar and I repeated myself “does she…….” (I was trying to say “does she work here”, thinking she was a waitress) when he interrupted and said “yaa, she’ll go “. “There is a room up-stairs; do you want me to ask her for you?” I will never forget how cornered I felt as I tried to explain myself. I think I blushed down to my boots as I said “no, what’s the Peanut Butter for?” Each table had a large jar of Peanut Butter on it. Gene explained that you had to smear your steak with Peanut Butter or Al himself would throw us out. I smeared the steak heavy with Peanut Butter hoping not to attract any more attention.

Connie, Al the Wop, and the Painted Lady are all gone now. The little Chinese town that was filled with Italian fishermen that night is still there. The buildings are still pretty much intact. Many buildings have a new paint job now. My wife Shirley and I photographed for 2 hours the other day. I do really miss Gene, Al the Wop and even the Painted Lady. Large jars of Peanut Butter can still be found on every table at Al the Wops in Locke.