July 5, 2022

After writing yesterday’s blog, I remembered a few little things that I hadn’t written down. So here they are. First, a tale of trade routes long gone. In our near-perfect campsite at Garnet Lake, Emily found a knapped shard of obsidian. The closest place to mine obsidian is probably 150 miles north and east of Garnet Lake, in the valley around the town of Davis Creek, NV (5/9/23: well, when I wrote this, I thought that was true, but a reader educated me to an obsidian dome very close by, near Mammoth Lakes. Thank you!). A remembrance of vigorous trading and intermingling among Native American peoples from up and down the east and west sides of the Sierra range. Sometimes, we find a bit of shell, maybe from a person who walked Muir’s route from the Bay Area to the high Sierra long before he came along. I wish I had taken a photo of the shard. After she found that first one, we found some more. I’m sure there is a lot to see, if you start looking for it.

Upon hitting the “outside” world, and turning on my phone, I was hit with a frantic message left a couple of days ago by my older sister. Some urgent family business had come up that needed my approval/input immediately. I had missed a deadline, being out of touch for the few days. Damn! So Emily and I went to Lee Vining for our evening meal and I let quite a long time sitting on a bench in a little parklet alongside Highway 395. As my sister was talking, I noticed a woman smile at me with a look of recognition in her eye. I continued with my business, but saw her sort-of hanging out, and sitting in her car adjacent to where I was sitting. The conversation ended up being about a half hour long. Just as she was about to drive away, I signed off and put away the phone. She approached me, introduced herself, and said that she had just been working up in Tuolumne Meadows for a period of time (a couple of weeks, as I recall, but maybe more or less). And she presented me with a very adorable iron-on patch of a pika with a mouthful of flowers, inspired to give it to me because of my Pika Song. Such a thoughtful gift! She was completely amazed to see me sitting in Lee Vining. But you know, like-minded folks often run into each other in what would seem like unlikely places. It reminded me of the time that Tom Rozum and I were hiking, late in the day, in the Alakai Swamp high up on Kauai. The trail was deserted at that hour, and we were surprised to hear, from the voice of the only other hiker, “Tom and Laurie! Hello!” Turned out he was a music person from Santa Cruz. We find our people, and it’s not really all that random.

Okay! So back to July 5, 2022. We left off with Emily and me happily ensconced by a creek at a lovely clean public campground just up Highway 120 from where it hits 395. We woke early and spent some time cleaning our tents inside and out and making ready to pack them away for there next trip. But as soon as everything was dry and packed, we set off for the ghost town of Bodie. This is a place I have always assumed I would get to over the years, but as yet I never had. It’s down a long well-maintained gravel road at the end of a long narrow paved road, east of Highway 395 north of Lee Vining. What is now Bodie State Historic Park doesn’t open until 9:00 AM, and we arrived at the sage-strewn plateau above the town at about 8:30 AM. It was nice to have some time to just stretch, wander through the sage, and watch the day develop.

We were the first car in to the park that morning and had the place to ourselves. It was already getting hot and the sun was relentless as it slowly climbed into a pure blue sky. But there was a fresh breeze, which kept it from being overbearing. From the Bodie.com website:

In 1859 William (a.k.a. Waterman) S. Bodey discovered gold near what is now called Bodie Bluff. A mill was established in 1861 and the town began to grow. It started with about 20 miners and grew to an estimated 10,000 people by 1880! By then, the town of Bodie bustled with families, robbers, miners, store owners, gunfighters, prostitutes, and people from every country in the world. At one time there was reported to be 65 saloons in town. Among the saloons were numerous brothels and ‘houses of ill repute’, gambling halls and opium dens – an entertainment outlet for everyone.

On a daily basis miners would emerge from the mills and head for the bars and the red light district to spend their earnings. The mixture of money, gold and alcohol would sometimes prove fatal. Newspapers reported that townspeople would ask in the mornings “Have we a man for breakfast?” Meaning ‘Did anyone get killed last night?’

The gold had long since played out, and then the copper, and the last remaining occupants deserted the town after The War Production Board suspended mining operations in 1942. It became a park in 1962.

I took the title of this day’s rambles from a song written by Peter McLaughlin, about Bodie. I found a live version online here. It’s worth a listen.

Thank you for joining Emily and me on our little adventure in the Sierra. I am hoping to get back up to the High Country this year, but it looks like it might not be until late, late summer. I hope not, but the snow seems to be sticking around, and as it melts, the stream crossings are too treacherous for me to attempt. If I go, I’ll let you know.