It has been too long since I have written. Friends have advised me that it is important to post regularly. I agree.
David and I have had quite a few adventures since my last post—we spent a day trying out our new inflatable kayak, Mr. Puff, on Jenks Lake. We drove across country and back again, finding wonderful state parks in Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Indiana, Mississippi and Louisiana. We had a lazy day away from the snow on our mountain, paddling Huntington Harbor. We’ve lead snowshoe hikes for our campers.
Computer time has been taken up with learning how to use Twitter and Facebook, catching up with work after 5 weeks away and enjoying my friend’s blogs. I haven’t taken the time to write.
Icicles on the Staff House
Now it is time to get cracking!
After 3 – 4 feet of snow in camp and massive icicles at our front of our door making it dangerous to step outside…..we had cabin fever.
Sunday afternoon we decided we needed an adventure. We planned to go snowshoeing locally, just to get away for a while. Then, an hour before we were to leave, the 20% chance of rain turned into a pretty steady drizzle.
Rain wasn’t going to stop us! We donned our waterproof clothing and set out.
Driving down to where Jenks Lake Road West meets Highway 38, we navigated around the cars and people parked to play in the snow at the Whispering Pines Nature Trail Crossing Highway 38, we parked by the mailboxes in the Ponderosa Vista Trailhead parking lot.
David, the Mountain Man
After getting on snowshoes and taking a picture, we went “over the edge”. One of the joys of snowshoeing is the freedom to go where ever you want, without needing to use use a trail. This hike gave us the opportunity to explore without following a trail. Practicing our terrain navigation skills, we made our way down the hill, avoiding trees and brush where they were thickest, switching back and forth on the steep incline.
In the gray, rainy light, colors were deepened and enhanced. Green lichen on rocks and trees looked fluorescent. Russets and golds in the bark of the yellow pines and last year’s grasses was contrasted by dark greens and blacks on the canyon and live oaks. Branches dripped with rain drops. Shrouds of clouds and rain came and went.
After several minutes of dropping from the level of the highway, we came to an old forest road we had discovered last fall. Curious as to where the road lead, we headed east. Crossing several water courses, we followed the road for a mile or two, never coming to the end. Ahead we could see a bench, barren of trees and with little snow but decided we needed to turn around in order to get back before dark.
Slide Mountain in the Distance
As we looked west, down the Santa Ana River Valley, we could see Slide Mountain and the sunset making a pink line under the clouds. Passing back through the still forest with only Stellar Jays and Flickers for company, we returned to the hill we had descended.
Knowing that we would have to get back up the hill but never liking to go back the way we came, we decided to follow a water course on the east side of the hill. We hoped to end up on the other end of the parking lot where we had left the car.
Switching back and forth across the hill, we found several open areas when all or most of the pines had died. As we climbed higher, we were able to see across the valley to our north and vistas opened up. At one point, we came across some large
Just Below the Parking Lot
tracks in the snow. After the rain and warm weather, the tracks were indistinct and we weren’t sure what they were. As we followed them, we decided they were two-legged snowplay creatures from the road above. The tracks returned to the parking lot and we ended where we had expected and hoped, at the east end of the parking lot.
When I posted on Twitter that we had been snowshoeing in the rain, my daughter replied, “Ew! Doesn’t sound like fun.” For us, it was the perfect way to spend a winter afternoon.
