future seebald of norte america (western division)
Today, in this stretch of the world, it is a classic spring day in San Fran, in the low 70s and sunny, although the strong winds in from the ocean are up and kicking, meaning that I am in for another hell of a bike ride home. at times, the wind grows so stiff that I fear the bike will just stand still on its side and fall over. I have not researched the actual physics of this.
Today, in Yosemite Valley, heavy snowmelt has caused flooding, shutting down the access roads, and damaging buildings, campsites, roadways, and parking lots.
A dozen miles north of Yosemite, these photos were taken by the plowing teams digging through the 15 or so feet of snow over the Sierra passes. Not far from their, Belding Ground Squirrels, true hibernators (hence waking on internal calendar clocks) are coming out of their holes, a little stunned by the extreme whiteness of their world.
Down the Sierra spine 120 or so miles, it’s topping out at a mere 115 degrees today in Death Valley.
And, in the Great Basin Desert, its wildflower season. “Exceptional”, the local rangers say.
California is, I could say, a geographers invention, a mass fallacy our administration foists on generations of school-kids, as if that shading on the map meant anything beyond politics.
But, at a recently minted 30, I figure its high-time to explore a stretch of this invention, and Sarah and I are setting off tomorrow on a road-trip through the Great Basin and (if weather permits) the northern Mojave Deserts. We’re off for hiking the Toiyabe foothills and Canyons north of Tonopah (NV), dipping into as many swimming holes and hot springs as we can find (so far several), making cheap jokes about Mark Twain (we have both read his Roughing It, covering his 1860s exploits in the same area, as well as in Frisco and Hawaii (the Hawaiian section is fascinating as it captures the full upheaval of the 19th century/progress/imperialism on a then "isolated" (but less and less so) outpost of Polynesian culture & includes an impressive reference to surfing – and to Twain’s own failures as a surfer – while many potted histories of surfing discuss how surfing “died out” in the 19th century since the missionaries frowned upon it (Hawaiians surfed nude, en masse: did Twain? I really, sincerely hope so)).
We are also hoping to disturb pristine nesting bird sanctuaries in the Carson Sink, marvel at Icthyosaur fossils in Berlin, kick up ghost town dust in Ione, eat Danish bread in Bishop, and drop in on the Eureka Sand Dunes.
There are no bombings, no mass riots, no retracted headlines, no shootings of innocent civilians, and no marches of the landless to accuse the government of dragging its feet with land reform in this stretch of the world today. While I am thankful for that, I realize I will be spending a night in the Overland Hotel in Fallon, a few miles away from the air force base that Top Gun was shot at, and that when we wind through the desert pass in the White Mtns, we will be under an hour away from the Nevada Test Site, where dozens – if not hundreds – probably hundreds – you can see the impacts on satellite maps – of nuclear bombs were exploded over a 30 year period. And San Francisco, in 1847 a sleepy Mexican frontier settlement, was, by 1849, the booming and stinking center of the capitalist take-over of the whole Far West. Many of the scheming and conniving businessmen who ruthlessly exploited every one who crossed their paths with murderous interest rates and outrageous fine print and brutal labor conditions now have streets, skyscrapers, and successful companies (not to mention statues, wings of the Opera House and Art and Science Museums etc (some of them even financed exhibits to dig up Icthyosaurs in the same way they would gold or cobalt) named after them. In so doing building the very city I inhabit and work in.
Wish us luck, and no flat tires.
Just maybe I will have a chance to drop a line tomorrow, otherwise, this site will be quiet except for your prying eyes until next Monday, when, just maybe I will have something to say about the scourge of poetry, or why I am not a photographer. And I’ll have the pictures to back it up.
Today, in Yosemite Valley, heavy snowmelt has caused flooding, shutting down the access roads, and damaging buildings, campsites, roadways, and parking lots.
A dozen miles north of Yosemite, these photos were taken by the plowing teams digging through the 15 or so feet of snow over the Sierra passes. Not far from their, Belding Ground Squirrels, true hibernators (hence waking on internal calendar clocks) are coming out of their holes, a little stunned by the extreme whiteness of their world.
Down the Sierra spine 120 or so miles, it’s topping out at a mere 115 degrees today in Death Valley.
And, in the Great Basin Desert, its wildflower season. “Exceptional”, the local rangers say.
California is, I could say, a geographers invention, a mass fallacy our administration foists on generations of school-kids, as if that shading on the map meant anything beyond politics.
But, at a recently minted 30, I figure its high-time to explore a stretch of this invention, and Sarah and I are setting off tomorrow on a road-trip through the Great Basin and (if weather permits) the northern Mojave Deserts. We’re off for hiking the Toiyabe foothills and Canyons north of Tonopah (NV), dipping into as many swimming holes and hot springs as we can find (so far several), making cheap jokes about Mark Twain (we have both read his Roughing It, covering his 1860s exploits in the same area, as well as in Frisco and Hawaii (the Hawaiian section is fascinating as it captures the full upheaval of the 19th century/progress/imperialism on a then "isolated" (but less and less so) outpost of Polynesian culture & includes an impressive reference to surfing – and to Twain’s own failures as a surfer – while many potted histories of surfing discuss how surfing “died out” in the 19th century since the missionaries frowned upon it (Hawaiians surfed nude, en masse: did Twain? I really, sincerely hope so)).
We are also hoping to disturb pristine nesting bird sanctuaries in the Carson Sink, marvel at Icthyosaur fossils in Berlin, kick up ghost town dust in Ione, eat Danish bread in Bishop, and drop in on the Eureka Sand Dunes.
There are no bombings, no mass riots, no retracted headlines, no shootings of innocent civilians, and no marches of the landless to accuse the government of dragging its feet with land reform in this stretch of the world today. While I am thankful for that, I realize I will be spending a night in the Overland Hotel in Fallon, a few miles away from the air force base that Top Gun was shot at, and that when we wind through the desert pass in the White Mtns, we will be under an hour away from the Nevada Test Site, where dozens – if not hundreds – probably hundreds – you can see the impacts on satellite maps – of nuclear bombs were exploded over a 30 year period. And San Francisco, in 1847 a sleepy Mexican frontier settlement, was, by 1849, the booming and stinking center of the capitalist take-over of the whole Far West. Many of the scheming and conniving businessmen who ruthlessly exploited every one who crossed their paths with murderous interest rates and outrageous fine print and brutal labor conditions now have streets, skyscrapers, and successful companies (not to mention statues, wings of the Opera House and Art and Science Museums etc (some of them even financed exhibits to dig up Icthyosaurs in the same way they would gold or cobalt) named after them. In so doing building the very city I inhabit and work in.
Wish us luck, and no flat tires.
Just maybe I will have a chance to drop a line tomorrow, otherwise, this site will be quiet except for your prying eyes until next Monday, when, just maybe I will have something to say about the scourge of poetry, or why I am not a photographer. And I’ll have the pictures to back it up.
posted by Kyle at 4:27 PM
4 Comments:
have fun, but don’t scare the trees. look forward to hearing from you when you get back
Where are the pictures?
hard, with dialup, to do. might give it a go, but i think, no.
Thanks for sending them to me. would rather see them on yr blog though. it is a good place for safe keeping
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