It’s impossible to not be overawed by the biggest trees in the world. If Enid Blyton ever came to this neck of the woods, the giant sequoias would surely have been the inspiration for The Magic Faraway Tree. For anyone who ever enjoyed being whisked away to the magical lands at the top of the tree, just gazing up (and up and up) towards the canopy of a giant sequoia is enough to re-ignite that spark of imagination.
Such was the disbelief of the US general public in the late 19th century that these trees even existed, at least three sequoias died to prove that they lived. One particular such tree was unceremoniously cut down, chopped into wedges, hauled out to the east coast and reassembled. Whereupon it was ridiculed and labeled as a ‘California hoax’ because no one could quite believe it.
By day 2, Darren realized we had in fact already been to Kings Canyon (after cajoling me for not knowing where I’ve been and threatening to not bring me on trips any more if I couldn’t remember places). Still, there’s plenty of new places to explore in a National Park. Morro Rock was one of them; Big Baldy trail another. More great views and despite the remoteness, for the first time in the weekend we had a cellphone reception. Good timing for a quick FaceTime call to wish my dad a Happy Father’s Day and show him the view.
Whilst the heat wasn’t quite of the 100+ variety, approaching 90 degrees was hot enough to cut some of the hiking a little short. Cold beers and cold water was called for. And out of nowhere, Darren even rustled up some shade.
I was a little intrigued by the number of coaches we saw traversing the lake – at least a dozen. There must be something really good just right around the corner for all those tourists to be pouring in. They didn’t seem to stick around for long though, curiouser and curiouser. The following morning, the mystery was revealed. At the head of the lake was a Christian camp, bustling with throngs of eager youths, literally hundreds of teens, ready to embrace God in the countryside. I guess if that’s your bag, it’s a pretty cool place to do it.
So… wildlife toll for the weekend:
* Deer – tick, saw a couple of them, each time adjacent to the parking area, as if paid to be there for the tourists.
* Bears. Nada, zilch, nil pwoints.
* Cute marmots, almost like pudgy meerkats calling to each other with their high pitched whistles to forewarn of impending hikers. What I couldn’t quite get over was their coats of dense fluffy hair. Whilst they obviously need it in the winter, it seemed way overkill for a hot dry summer’s day. Put it this way, if I was hot…!
* A baby California King snake seemed out of place. You’d expect anything called King to have a sense of power and majesty about it, yet the distinctive orange and black markings looked odd on such a juvenile pencil thin body.
* We were first alerted to the frogs by their call, more of a low pitched hum than a croak. It wasn’t until after dark that we spotted them, bigger than my hand and not looking short on food.
* It may have been my imagination but the lizards too looked big and fat. With the feast of flying insects, they must surely be gorging themselves. The dragonflies also went up in my estimation when I discovered they eat mossies. Maybe I could get myself a pet one.
* But my absolute favorite had to be the big fat hairy caterpillars mooching around the campsite. Me and the under-ten camping community both. I rushed back to Darren with a photo and a “how cool is that” look upon my face, but I was one upped by the little boy who delicately scooped one up in his hand to proudly present to his parents. Probably the best Father’s Day present you could ask for.
