Sulphur to Sawtooth
Highs yesterday were in the mid-80s, the grass is jumping out of the old feed, cows are filling-up, calves growing.
The Kaweahs with a little snow.
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Highs yesterday were in the mid-80s, the grass is jumping out of the old feed, cows are filling-up, calves growing.
The Kaweahs with a little snow.
Little fuzzy, but there's the heron, like part of the oak.
Robbin and I called a handfall of cows from the far ridge and out of the canyon in Greasy Cove, part of Lake Kaweah when full. Seven expectant mothers chugged up the mountain for some hay. Normally, we wouldn't pull these cows from where they're obviously doing well, but this bunch was breaching fences a month ago to graze new Bermuda grass in the main lake bottom not far from the highway to Three Rivers. We'd like to have them a little closer to home when they have their calves.
Ambushed by most of the cows in the bottom of Sulphur, we had a helluva time getting the truck in a position to feed.
Hereford X calf in Sulphur
Railroad on Top - Blue Heron in an oak tree you can't see.
A few gray roan calves are showing up this year in different pastures. Some strange alignment of the stars and the genetics from our Hereford bulls on Angus cows. But they are cute and will grow into some nice, big calves.
From Rabbit Flat on Top looking down the mouth of Dry Creek Canyon and the Valley beyond as promised showers approach. We cut a little manwood (manzanita) before coming off the mountain, feeling pretty good about living a dream.
California Buckeye
Greasy Creek - Sec. 17
July 30, 2010
Left early this morning to locate the second-calf heifers I missed on Tuesday, beating the sunrise to Section 17. In all its different stages, the California Buckeye is a beautiful tree, first to leaf-out in early spring, long, white tassels in bloom, first to turn, mid-summer - most ghoulish come Halloween, reddish leaves dripping from white, fingerlike branches. Amongst the Live Oaks, this mid-summer stage was quite striking in this morning’s first light.
Escaped this morning to Greasy to look at our second-calf heifers due to calve in 30 or so days. Early morning cool, horses bucking and playing when I fed them, scent of fall on the grass, this weather change influenced by a high-pressure low off the coast and monsoon conditions in the Southwest. Thought we needed a picture to separate these damn poems.
Friday, May 28
Saturday, May 29
Sunday, May 30
Tuesday, June 1
Greasy Cove was created by Lake Kaweah at the confluence of Greasy Creek and the Kaweah River. A secluded part of the lake frequented by fishermen and party-going houseboats all summer, high water mark against the dry feed from Memorial weekend through the 4th of July. I took this series while going up and down the mountain gathering cows and calves to wean – a sigh of relief today.
Craig Ainley
Gathering Field
Greasy Creek
Greasy Cove
Lake Kaweah
Robbin got a couple of pictures last weekend when we went up the hill to feed the calves in Greasy.
Sulphur Ridge from Railroad Spring
Alta Peak, Sequoia National Park
May 11, 2005
Robbin & I need to get up to Sulphur, where this photograph was taken, for some snow pictures of this year's Sierras.
Known as the �the elephant� to locals and residents of Three Rivers, I must have a dozen poems inspired by the snow on Alta Peak. It�s difficult not to lose and find myself in this view for an hour or two, all part of the magic of landmarks triggering memories, histories and an enriched sense of place.
Perhaps the mid-1960s when working for Bill DeCarteret as a packer out of Wolverton and Mineral King was the most idyllic time of my life. A 12-14 hour round trip, we would supply Bearpaw Meadow, an outpost for backpackers, by mule string once a week with eggs, bacon, bread, canned goods, etc. After the snow melted, we'd cross the elephant�s legs towards Buck Creek Canyon. It was not unusual for me to sleep in the saddle on the way back once the mules were lined-out for the Wolverton corrals, near Giant Forest.
Then beyond Bearpaw is Tamarack and Hamiltion Lakes and that portion of the High Sierra Trail to Kaweah Gap tunneled through granite - to get packed mules through, straight-off sheer and sharp left when you hit daylight. On the other side of the rocky notch of the Great Western Divide, a series of shallow lakes down the Big Arroyo to the Five Lakes Basin � where one day Ron Paregien and I caught some awfully big Rainbows at Lost Lake with a spinning rod, bobber, tapered leader and a dry fly. Crystal-clear water growing green near the bottom you could not see, we watched the big lunkers rise from twenty feet to hit the bobber and head back down before turning to hit the fly. Or the morning he and I shoveled snow off Blackrock Pass to get our stock and separate parties over, reminding of the thunderstorm of one my earliest cowboy poems.
Down the Big Arroyo towards the Kern River lies the Chagoopa Plateau, like riding across the surface of another planet around Sky Parlor Meadow, a magical, mystical place that was hell for hunting horses.
The Hot Springs at the Kern, Funston Meadow, more camps and friends recalled it seems I can�t forget.
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