The Second, Second Best Blog

Went hiking for a couple of hours in Whiting again this afternoon, starting at Gate 5 on Serrano Creek Trail. Not too many others there, just the way I like it. It was such a gorgeous day I didn’t want to turn around when I got to Live Oak. I continued north all the way to the end of Serrano Cow Trail, then climbed the hill on Line Shack. Pretty uneventful this time (no more rattlesnake sightings!) Then on the way out on Serrano Road, I saw a roadrunner. He stood obligingly beside the road, just waving his tail slowly until a (human) runner came by (first photo below). He zipped down the road and disappeared where a small stream crosses. I approached the stream slowly and spotted him in the brush about 4 feet above ground (second photo). The last picture was taken
on March 12 on Sage Scrub Trail, the only other time I have seen one in the park.

Now that I had hiked every trail in Whiting Ranch except one, it was time to remove that exception. On April 10, I set out to reach the end of Mustard Road. I mapped it out the night before and estimated it would take about 4 hours starting at the main park entrance to reach the western boundary and return.

Borrego Trail and Mustard Road up to the Cattle Pond Loop are heavily used by bikers and hikers. The trails are wide and hard packed with nothing growing on them. From Cattle Pond west there are a lot of weeds on the trail, which is in pretty much the same condition all the way to Vista Lookout. Beyond the Vista turn off, the road almost disappears beneath the mustard, as can be seen in the photo at the top.

Part of the road from that point can be seen winding on to the west. What is not visible is the descent into another canyon, which increases the distance considerably.

I succeeded in reaching the end. Actually the road continues but access is blocked by a fence and gate. The round trip took about 5 hours including rest stops and picture taking. It was worth doing once, but I doubt I will do again.

One of my favorite things to do is walk in Whiting Ranch Wilderness Park with camera at the ready. One entrance is only about 2 miles from home, so it’s quick and easy to get there. Park near Wahoo’s Fish Tacos in the business park where Glenn Ranch Road tees into Portola Parkway and take the trail under the bridge. A nice little (under 2 mile) walk is north on Serrano Road, right on Live Oak, right on Raptor Road, back to Serrano.

This afternoon I went in the counterclockwise direction instead, walking slowly, looking and listening. The park is just about the greenest it ever gets after the recent light rains. You can count on seeing some things nearly every visit: squirrels, rabbits, Western Fence Lizards, Acorn Woodpeckers, California Towhees, crows, the bee tree – an old oak with a hole where a limb once was, now a thriving hive. Less frequently: Redtailed and Cooper’s Hawks, Scrub Jays, Kestrels, and mule deer.

When I reached the end of Live Oak, I continued north on Serrano, then right and uphill on Line Shack until it turned north. There is a signpost there that shows that going right is a dead end. That trail leads to one of the many Edison transmission towers. I started to walk to the post to see if that trail had a name. When I was about six feet away, I was startled by a loud hiss near my feet. I looked down and immediately stepped backwards. My right foot had been about 2 feet from a rather large and healthy rattlesnake. It was coiled and ready but the warning was sufficient. It appeared to have eaten not too long ago, as evidenced by the bulge about midway between head and tail. Probably just catching some late afternoon sun.

I had been thinking about going down the dead end trail a ways, but now decided I had had enough excitement and turned for home. About 30 yards back, I turned and saw a bicyclist traveling south on Line Shack right toward that snake, which had cautiously approached the edge of the trail. When the bike passed by, it flung itself backward and away from the trail again. The motion caught the rider’s attention. He looked back briefly and then stopped when he reached me. “What was that?”. He was middle aged (younger than me anyway) wearing a white cotton shirt and wide-brimmed straw hat, very unusual in a place where most are wearing Spandex and fancy helmets. We discussed the snake for a minute or so, then each continued on our way, happy that it had been cautious and not aggressive.

…is available here.

Take a look at what I have been watching during my lunch time walks: Bake Bridge Construction Time Lapse

When our 40th wedding anniversary was approaching, we started thinking about how to celebrate. We wanted to do more than just dinner and a movie (like most years) but did not have a big budget. Our friend Jill suggested this rafting trip.

It begins at the Hacienda Hotel just outside Boulder City, a few miles from Hoover Dam. Participants are bussed from there to the launch area just below the dam using the old porter road. There were 12 of us on this trip. The raft can easily hold twice that number so it was easy to move around. The guide was very knowledgeable concerning the history of the area, the geology, the flora and fauna, and was quite humorous as well. He has a very good eye, spotting Big Horn Sheep twice where I never would have. We also saw a variety of birds: Red Head and Mallard ducks, Coots, gulls, a Peregrine Falcon, a Golden Eagle, several Great Blue Herons and Cormorants. Not too far from the end our 12 mile journey, while exploring a cave on the Arizona side of the river bank, we saw a beaver. Our guide said that was first time he had ever seen one on the river. They were fairly common before the dam was built, but not now.

Some of the pictures below have additional information. Click the thumbnails to see a larger version of each.

is available now:

My youngest brother Ted was just a baby when the mother he never would know was taken from us, 51 years ago tomorrow.

The day started like most summer Sundays back then. We piled into the station wagon for the 14 mile trip to Sacred Heart Church in Susanville to attend the 8:00 AM mass with Monsignor Patrick J. Moran. I don’t remember it myself, but at her funeral a few days later, Father Moran said she had Holy Communion.

The rest of the day was supposed to be fun. We all put on swimsuits under our clothes in anticipation of playing in a pool! We were going to visit at a friends new house in Milford.

I lost conciousness briefly during the crash. I was sitting in the left hand seat in the middle row of the 9 passenger wagon, directly behind Dad. I don’t remember getting out of the car, only walking around in back of it, then toward the front on the other side. Mom was curled up laying on her right side, coughing and choking, between the car and the mailbox post that stopped her flight when she was thrown out, bleeding from the nose and the one ear I could see. Even though I had never seen anything like that, I knew it was not good. There was no one else outside of the cars that I could see, so I started walking down the lane to the house where Mom’s friend lived. As I approached the front door, the woman came out. I said, “We wrecked.” She said, with a forced smile, “I know.” and took me inside, laying me on a bed and hurried back out.

Several minutes later someone carried me to the back seat of a car and drove to the hospital in Susanville. I ended up on a gurney in a hallway near the entrance. Shortly after, another gurney was rolled past. The person on it was covered with a sheet except for some brown curly hair. A doctor came and did a brief examination, including my groin. I didn’t object, just thought to myself, “You can do anything you want to me, just save my mom.” even though I knew she was dead.