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In Jim's words: "In 1961 the trail from Wishon Dam to Kings Canyon's Tehipite Valley extended for 21 miles. It is shorter now. Such a distance by itself might spell a wilderness condition in most of our minds. But it is not the destination I recall so well - rather the spell, if you will, that lay over an entire day's hike. "True to the map, the trail to the Valley took off from Crown Meadow, going south. As compared to the route of the morning, the new trail seemed strangely narrow and obscure. Leaves and forest duff blanketed it. To look at it you felt that nobody goes that way any more. Heightening the mystique was a leaden sky that hinted at rain. Typical of such conditions, wildlife and still life hunker down, so it seems. Cones stop dropping, and forest noises cease. As we walked, the only sound was the crunching of leaves and twigs underfoot. You may ask, whom are you kidding? You have a string of Sierra Club backpackers with you and there is stillness? I swear it can be. A mood will infect an entire party in the same way, inspiring a kind of awe. We were venturing, so it appeared, into a region of historical significance but now neglected and even forgotten. Imagination can run wild, as we know. The sought-after feeling of solitude certainly prevailed, and, incidentally, we did not see or hear anybody. And did not expect to. "We camped short of the rim of the Middle Fork canyon, near Gnat Meadow. As we settled in, a coyote chorus began nearby and went to a few encores. To me, that always has been a recipe for wildness. That night a bear came through. The scat wasn't there before we turned in. We did not have tents, typical of the Club Knapsack Trips of the era. The bear or bears probably gave our members a good nosing over. No one woke. "The trail off the Tehipite rim drops 3,200' in many switchbacks. One gets a magnificent view up the canyon, where in the immediate distance Tehipite Dome stands out most nobly. I should mention that much of the descending trail was slippery, covered over by a mantle of oak leaves. It was trouble waiting for the unwary. There the wilderness "feeling" could be a sudden slip onto one's posterior. As promised, rattlesnakes abounded on the canyon floor. My people were spooked by the notion that a snake might slither into a sleeping bag, especially if it was placed out ahead of need. So, the bags weren't unrolled right away, I noticed, and everybody evenutally slept as in a circling of the wagons for protection. Snakes go inactive after the sun sets, but folks weren't too ready to accept that. "Wilderness is a state of mind. This hike had many of its components - distance, absence of other people and traces of people, oppressing weather and overriding silence setting the stage. I have been to many wild and scenic places, yet this one, although fairly close to home, is remembered for its quality all these years later." More about Jim: Jim Watters subscribes to John Muir's belief that the American people would better appreciate and help to protect their country's wild legacy if only they had the opportunity to experience it. To that end, Jim has served the Club's Outing program for decades, in a variety of roles including Chariman of the Outing Committee for five years. In September 2001, Jim received the William Colby Award, which honors an individual for outstanding leadership, dedication, and service to the Sierra Club. Jim is well known in the Club and on the trail for his large backpack and size 15 hiking boots. He claims mastery of Optimus kerosene stoves, which adds much to his fabled reputation. Read more about Jim and the Sierra Club's William Colby Award. Tell us about your Special Place! Up to Top |
