Lesson in California History... continued

Not too long ago, I brought you the southernmost portion of the Ridge Route: Beale's Cut.

Today, I bring you snap shots of the northernmost portion, just south of Gorman.
You know you're on the Ridge Route when you find the right signage.


The only remaining part of the former 3-lane highway. Right at Gorman.

The part of the road that still has washed out areas is locked up. I mean, REALLY locked up. They don't want you in there. In fact, you evidently need a quorum to unlock the gate. Or, you can walk...

The work being done on it for repairs... since it was washed out by heavy rains in 2005, the primary improvement is drainage.

Remains of the Tumbleweed Inn - one of MANY hotels on the Ridge Route.

Tecopa, Tecopa

I took advantage of the long weekend, and took my Geology of California class out on a fabulous field trip to my favourite outcrop in California so they could get some practice drawing stratigraphic sections and using Brunton compasses to make measurements. I hope they learned a lot. I know we all had a great time!

The outcrop.

A great view of the Basin and Range Province of California.

Inside a talc mine - they're all looking at me "how'd you get up there?"

Poking around Dublin Gulch (I've blogged about this place before).

Monkey found a newspaper fragment (LA Examiner?) from 1925 around Dublin Gulch.

Then we went and found some trilobites, but I somehow didn't take any photos of that little jaunt. Hmmm...

Lake Dolores/Rock-A-Hoola/Discovery Waterpark... another piece of California History

After driving back and forth on Hwy 15 countless times and not making the stop here, I finally did (accompanied with a few die-hard students who still had some energy left after the long weekend field trip). I first noticed this place, seemingly an odd location for a water park (mid-desert) when I drove here back in 2005. There were water slides (or one at least) actually up and visible from the road then. After several drives back by this place I finally committed to memory the name "Rock-A-Hoola" that I could see on the sign and did a google search. I found this forum that provided many answers, odd stories, and probable false posts. An interesting read none-the-less.

The summary is this:

• It originally opened in 1962 as Lake Dolores, named for the founder's wife. It was a campground waterpark, and potentially the first "real" waterpark known. It grew over 22 successful years to include stand up water slides, zip line, and all kinds of other dangerous sounding thrill rides in addition to standard waterpark stuff. (People entering the park had to sign an extensive waiver - we saw some of these in the broken down buildings when we strolled around in awe)
  
• After a period of closure, the park was sold and re-opened as Rock-A-Hoola in 1996, but the new owners went bankrupt and the park was returned back to the original owners 3 years later. Most of the signage and papers we saw around indicated the name Rock-A-Hoola alone or in combination with the more historically well-known Lake Dolores (as in "Lake Dolores Rock-A-Hoola Waterpark" was found on business cards strewn about)
  
• Sold again, and re-opened under yet another new name: Discovery Waterpark - the third and final run went from 2002-2004. The only evidence we saw of this name were a few plain-font address labels lying around an old office behind the ticket counter.
  

From left to right:

• Top row - google maps outdated image still showing waterslides that are now torn down, sign in parking area, entrance lined with 50's themed route 66 (which is further south than the road this is on) posters
• Middle row - KyKy by the former lazy river, envelope and tickets found in old office, view of the park from the top of the location that used to have waterslides
• Bottom row - the waterslides (photo from themeparkreview.com), regulations sign for the waterslides (I like how there's no warning about health safety like heart problems, but there is a no zipper rule), the hill that held the waterslides as seen today
  

This Weekend's Lesson in Southern California History

Amongst a trip to LA to visit family, I made a commitment to find and photograph the "famous" Beale's Cut (that no one I've talked to so far has heard of before me). I bought the Ridge Route book, because I am fascinated with this sort of history.

In 1862 General Beale completed this cut [by hand], providing a route through the San Bernadinos that effectively connected northern and southern California. The following year it was deepened to its maximum of 90 feet! This definitely ranks up there with Burro Schmidt's tunnel in terms of engineering feats. However, Schmidt has Beale beat in terms of uselessness and randomness. Or perhaps, Beale has Schmidt beat in terms of usefulness?

Looking north up Beale's Cut, earliest known photo. Taken from here.

By 1910, traffic had significantly changed... from the horses and carriages that scrambled up and over the cut in the late 1800s to motor vehicles (the allegedly had to drive up the cut in reverse so that fuel reached the engine), to cargo trucks in the early 1900s. As a result, the Newhall Tunnel was constructed for truck traffic nearby, actually tunneling through the mountains, and the Cut was essentially abandonned. Traffic though (again, depending on which source you read) still used it until the original construction of Ridge Route in 1915.

Depending on which source you read, the cut collapsed sometime in the late 1930's, losing 2/3 of its depth. Below is the photo that I took with my phone (why oh why did I forget my camera???), at approximately the same angle as the B&W photo above. It's obviously overgrown.


The Cut was used for backdrops (either superimposed or actually filmed there) for Westerns. There is also apparently a famous (but superimposed) photo of some Western star jumping on a horse across the cut. Look it up on google if you want.

This is an aerial photo looking south with the Cut in the middle. Hwy 14 is to the left.

Cool stuff I say. Cool stuff.

More Snowshoeing

To begin 2009 right, I went with Trukee friends to their cabin for some snowshoeing and Donner Party BBQ sauce.

The statue at Donner Park - the snow was up to their feet (the feet of the statues that is) at the time the Donner Party was stuck up there at Donner Pass.

It started as a gorgeous day for snowshoeing, and FlyBoy and I tested the hill-climbing capabilities of our shoes by scrambling up some short, but nearly impossible inclines.

Then, as a storm approached, we reached this pond for a spectacular view of the mountains (Sugarbowl?), clouds, and my frightening "fashion sense" - I'm not sure how else to refer to my outfit there...


Later that week we approached a sea of Elvi at Mt Rose - and giggled ourselves silly.


After soaking in our fill of Elvi, we went for a jaunt near Lake Tahoe - and while it was flat, the 8600 ft elevation was surprisingly breathtaking. Hmmm... worth jumping anyway though!

Ski in the new year

On January 1st I was invited for a 10 mile loop back country ski excursion in Sequoia National Forest. Not having done anything like this since grad school's Wednesday afternoon triathlon training (skiing) at Little Cataraqui Creek, I figured I was up for the challenge. It was a blast! Too hot within the first 10 minutes, many of us had to strip down to our long johns for the day - but the scenery was outstanding and there was almost no one out where we were at all. At the end of the day, exhausted and starving, we stopped at Bear Mountain Pizza in Squaw Valley and stuffed ourselves silly. Delicious.

Super Cool Car

Texas Gal and I decided to boycott the holidays and head up to Sequoia National Park for a winter camping expedition. In preparation for this, despite my already having decided to drive the 4WD Jeep, I needed to make a last-minute chain purchase. Apparently, even if you have 4WD, chains can often be required.

Chains. At the ready - in a big pile in the back...

With everything all packed up, we drove into the park and set up camp just before dark (oh... 4:30?) on the 24th. We were almost the only souls there. This was not surprising. After dinner (stew!) I was urging the fire to be more fire-like and less a giant smoke factory. I was complaining about the suckyness of the wood when Texas Gal pointed out that the reason it wasn't burning was more likely the rain. As the rain pressed on and we got soggier, we packed it in by around 7 and retreated to the tents. This would likely have been more effective if either (or both) of us had been bothered to strap our tent flies down in preparation for a torrential downpour. We had not done this, and after relentless rain through the night and well into the morning, I finally emerged and ran for cover in the Jeep to dry off. Eventually Texas Gal joined me and we tried to figure out somewhere to go that would be less wet. Up the mountain was decided, because, as I pointed out - if it's raining here, an elevation gain should give us snow instead - and then we can go snowshoeing! Well, it turned out that a torrential downpour at our camp translated to a blizzard up the mountain. This should not have been a surprise...

1st attempt at chain-putting-on. Turns out that draping them over my tires is a far more effective method.

So, we had to break out the chains - while the sign can often read "4x4 with snow tires ok" this time it read "no exceptions". On the first chain attempt, one fell off almost instantaneously. This discovery went something like: "why are the chains only making noise on one side?" Apparently when the instructions told us to "drive 1/4 mile and then tighten" they meant "tighten, drive 1/4 mile then tighten again". So we went on a hike in the blizzard (that the coyotes were even trying to escape) to retrieve the chains from down the hill.

No exceptions!

"Feed me!"

*sigh* The expedition in the blizzard proved essentially pointless - when there's almost no driving visibility, it turns out that trying to snowshoe when ice crystals are penetrating your retinas is also not enjoyable. After a silly lunch of soup make in the only "protected" place we could find - the doorway of the men's toilet at the campground - we retreated and drove around aimlessly for the rest of the day until we could justify crawling back into our soggy tents for the night.

The morning of the 26th brought reprieve with the rain having turned to snow overnight. We had a light dusting on and around the tents in the morning, and with the exception of the previously enplaced wetness, the site was dryish. I used Pi's borrowed shovel (thanks!) to dig out the picnic table and make some oatmeal and coffee. Yessssssss - FINALLY! With the snowshoes loaded, snacks aboard, and chains at the ready we were set for what we had come for.

A thin layer of snow covers the day and a half of rain sog on everything.

The "draping over the tire" method.

Moro Rock. Promising! (Closed)

As it turns out the sound of the chains reverberating around the empty uninsulated cavernous back of the Jeep is something like a hundred leaden-hoofed tap-dancing jingle horses following close behind. This is when you are driving on the order of 6 mph. By 11 mph you have somehow angered these horses, and they have also somehow become loud vampire zombie leaden-hoofed tap-dancing horses ravenously chasing you. They have also multiplied ten-fold. Flap-a-wakka-WAKKA-flap-a-WAKKA-WAK-A-WAK-A-WAKKA-wakka-wakka-flap-a-WAK-aflappa-WAK. Over 11 mph the sound was deafening and brain explosion was imminent, so I kept to 11. And pulled over frequently to let the quieter vehicles pass by.

Finally some snowshoeing amongst the big beautiful red trees was had, after we drank in our fill, we "zipped" on back down to camp... at 11 mph. Just as the snow started to thin and I could actually see some signs of tarmac ahead a couple of ladies waving frantically at us caused me to go from a crawl to a halt. I rolled down the window. They cautioningly said "you have to slow down, slow waaaaaaaaaay down, this road is treacherous" - or something to that extent - as Texas Gal and I looked at them quizzically from the 4WD Jeep equipped with ravenous vampire horse chains that had been moving at a speed barely faster than I walk, they continued with some pretty impressive attitude coming from women in a sedan "well maybe in your super cool car you'll be fine". I responded with "... uhhh .... thanks?" and continued to loudly rumble my way down. Had the chains not been so noisy you would have been able to hear us roaring with laughter for the next hour as we "raced" along in my "super cool car".

Snowshoes. Much more "super cool" than my car, but whatever.

A select few tree photos from my little snowshoe treks.

That evening I managed to get a fire started with our soggy wood and soggy paper and soggy firestarter etc. It took a LOT of coaxing, but once it got going it was fabulous. We shared beers with neighbouring tent campers, both PhDs in biology, one from Columbia and the other a Scot. That day really made the whole expedition - of course the next morning I pulled my frozen tent-shaped fly off and chipped away at the ice in order to fold it up and pack it away...

Turns out chains also make a lovely accessory.

more December romping adventures

Before heading off to the big red trees for a winter camp, a couple more geo-related strolls (involving rock hammers) were necessary.

Pegmatitic granite from the Lake Isabella dump site. Rainbow behind the Lake Isabella dam. Inquisitive cow in the Kern Canyon. Snow-capped Sierra Nevada as seen from the Red Rock Canyon desert. Opalized vesicular basalt. Very low water in the Kern River. Metal joshua tree "sculpture" on hwy 395. Red dunes at Red Cinder Hill. Me down in Fossil Falls.

Gnat Bakes a Pie

Yes, I made a pie without disaster. It's apple, obviously. Or dinosaur. The crust VOLUME was the only real issue (also obvious) - but besides not being particularly attractive, it was delicious.

End of Year Adventures

Ahhhh, exams being over and fun needing to be had, the geology club (and their fearless empire-building leader) set out on epic adventure of "nerds in the wilderness".

Day 1 was a gorgeous day in the desert, and considering the date was December 12th, we were surprised by the warmth. The clouds were neat looking too.

The plan was to take Mesquite Canyon up into Red Rock Canyon State Park to get to Burro Schmidt's Tunnel, a different route than I usually go. We had 3 vehicles, countless cameras, a Middle East Feast, water, tow strap, emergency contact, energy, rock hammers and a bottle of dilute hydrochloric acid.

Some things were quite different: puddles of water, signs (usually when I go I don't see any signs... so this is an improvement I guess?), the original cabin was boarded up - so no one can get in anymore...

The mummified rat and separated soy sauce also seemed to be "new" - or at least uncovered - the 2nd and 3rd built cabins on the site seem to be undergoing "renovations" of a sort. Of the sort that involves removing scads of mattresses and other garbage, but leaving behind old soy sauce and dessicated rodents.

Other things, like the tremendous views, remained the same - breathtaking as ever.

After visiting Burro Schmidt's tunnel for the zillionth time, I suggested we visit the Bickel Camp, which I had actually never stopped at before. An old time prospector who overlapped in time partially with our old friend Schmidt, he was slightly less nutty and actually mined gold and sold it, rather than digging a tunnel from nowhere to nowhere.

Gas can collection that I was intrigued by.

"Interesting"

56 years of canned beans.

Walt himself. Quite beardy. The remainder of the day was spent trying to not get stuck in the middle of the desert, which had a surprisingly wet sandy floor that day, which was remarkably difficult for our token 2 wheel drive truck to cross. Also, the "roads" would randomly be punctuated by a cliff or ravine or massive rock or fence or something inconvenient for even Snaggletooth (the Geomobile Jeep) to navigate.

The next part of the end of year geo club adventure series (day 2) was a garnet hunt in the moutains between us and LA. This was appropriate because garrrnets are the pirate ore (yarrr). We hiked up a mountain in a cloud.

It gave pretty spectacular, spooky, fairytale-like scenery.

So did the trees.

And then it actually snowed - which, for some, was their first ever snowfall. For me, it was like "huh, it's snowing... in southern California"

Once garnet hunting was deemed a success (and garnets were found), we continued on with the non-denominational end-of-year pirate-themed geology winter party - with a dino bounce house. For me, my first time in a bounce house - YAY! Thanks to one of the geo club students (El Presidente) who actually owns it (well, her family does).

After we bounced ourselves silly and legless we retreated to dinner, which included the traditional pirate feast of "fish loaf" (a fish baked into a loaf - kalakukko - traditional recipe). Captain Bear Beard actually undertook this task (and built the elephant pinata) - and went to the extent of shaping the loaf like a fish too. It was excellent. No fish heads were included on the inside. Nor was there bacon, as one of our young pirates does not eat meat. Yarrr.

Logically there were brachiosaur and elephant cookies to be decorated & eaten (thanks Lulu for the brachiosaur cookie/pancake cutter - still comes in handy). Along with loads of other treats.

The evening culminated with games (Apples to Apples & Cranium), and a white elephant gift exchange and white elephant pirate pinata (obviously). It was necessary to use the "double eye patch" blind fold method and eventually finish it off with swords. All in all it would have been tricky to squeeze anything else in, this was one of the best multi-themed adventure-parties I have ever done. Much laughter was involved.