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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Original Post - May 15, 2012 - 10:02pm PT
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I'd like to put out a few titles which are not really about climbing, but which make nice reading for anyone with a historical bent and Yosemite. All titles share the subject matter of how to get to Wawona, or Clark's as it was known.
The first is one by John C. Shay, a man of many talents.
Twenty Years in the Backwoods of California being the actual experiences and observations of a native son of California, covering a period of twenty years in one locality, while engaged in prospecting, gold mining, homesteading, stock raising and the roadside smithy. The Roxburgh Publ. Co, Boston. 1923.
There were three on Abe today, $75-$250. There is a copy at the Merced Library, Main Branch. It is reproduced, too--page for page in the second of two publications by the Coarsegold Historical Society, As We Were Told, Volume II. Both V.I and V.II of this book are filled with stuff about eastern Madera County. The Sugar Pine railway and the flume connecting Sugar Pine to Madera, early telephone companies, all the stories about ranching, square dancing, trucking, logging, fishing, fires are all in there.
Not to mention John Shay's book. It is only like 142 pages. Seems like little to recount twenty years, but time passes slowly in the mountains. He starts by setting up as a miner, then talks a guy out of his homestead, and sets up as a smith, catering to the teams going through to Wawona on the old road from Raymond and Grub Gulch (no longer in existence). Shay tells some interesting side stories of the iconic visit Teddy Roosevelt made to the Yosemite in 1903--when he got shot with Muir on Glacier Point. Rattlesnakes, some with guns. Indians, too. Great read. Local knowledge abounds.
Georgia Waltz is the author of Ghost Trail to Yosemite. Her family goes back in the history of Mariposa/Merced/Madera quite a way. There is a Waltz Rd. and a Waltz Ranch out by the Bear Creek Dam out east about a dozen miles from Merced.
Her 48-page booklet is a trip to Wawona, and I think into the Valley, but that part escapes me, it's been a while. She is in a dream state; and following the route of a traveler of the time, she journeys to Berenda on the SP, takes the train to Raymond, catches a lift with an uncle who is a freight teamster, and so on.
It is quite a nice story. I think NeeBee might like it. Any writer with good taste would. There are a lot of copies around for sale, and all over the SJVLibrary system. It is from 1964, Sierra Litho when they were Fresno people.
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As long as the subject is transport to Yosemite, there is a nice chapter in a book produced in 2007, called Le Grand History: Memories of the Le Grand History Club. The chapter tells of the experiences in the 1910s by a group of teens from Merced County who are going camping in Yosemite Valley. It is no longer in print, but it's around. For those who don't know Le Grand, it came into being when the Santa Fe RR brought its line through in the eastern portion of the San Joaquin in the 1890s. It is coeval with Planada. Twenty miles from Bootjack.
The Merced County Historical Society helped publish the book with a grant, I think, and there is a bookshop at the Museum with other localized history efforts.
For what it's worth, for those who care about the traffic pollution and problems in Yosemite, and for those who look to Muir and to Galen Clark as men who worked to conserve the place, remember Muir and his sheep. Know, too, that Clark brought the first wagon into Yosemite Valley. The wagon parts were loaded on mule-back from Clark's to the Valley, then re-assembled and drawn by the mules. He thus introduced the first wheeled vehicle to the Valley and provided it with its first "tweet bus." He hauled tourists.
Twenty Years in the Backwoods of California. John C. Shay. Roxburgh. 1923.
Ghost Trail to Yosemite. Georgia Waltz. Sierra Litho. 1964.
As We Were Told. Two volumes. Coarsegold Historical Society.
Le Grand History: Memories of the Le Grand History Club. 2007.
If anyone wants to add books, just remember to provide the correct title and author and publisher and date. Those four things are the major ways to find a book if there is no ISBN. I would give those myself, but the title searches are sufficient to find these.
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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May 16, 2012 - 01:07am PT
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Thanks, Mouse. Do you think any of these would be available at public libraries in California, or possibly for sale in the Valley?
Are you coming to the FaceLift?
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nita
Social climber
chica de chico, I don't claim to be a daisy.
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May 16, 2012 - 01:54am PT
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The Yosemite, John Muir...
Yosemite National Park~ A natural history guide, Jeffery Schaffer...1976..Wilderness Press
100 Years in Yosemite~ Carl P. Russell..1947...Yosemite Natural history ass..
Obata's Yosemite..1993.. Art and letters of Chiura Obata ..Yosemite Association.
Yosemite place name...looking for book & author...
Meadow in the Sky~ Elizabeth Stone O'Neil. natural History of Tuolumne..1983...Panorama west books.... ok, book.
Man & Yosemite, a photographer's view of the early years, Ted Orland, 1985..The image Continuum Press
Yosemite Wildflowers trails` Dana Morgenson..1975...Yosemite natural history ass.
Wildflowers of Yosemite Lynn & Jim Wilson & Jeff Nicholas
Yosemite Valley, Ansel Adams.1967- Associate, redwood city
History of the Sierra Nevada, Francis P. Farquhar...1965 university of California press Berkley..
edit: Mouse, nita is the name on my birth certificate , and i stuck with it...(-;
edit: Mouse, I own a copy, it's somewhere in one of my many bookshelf's ...or...under my bed.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 16, 2012 - 02:48am PT
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Mighty Hiker, casual observer. Hell yes. Am I invited?
Yes. You will be able to find Ghost Trail at several of the libraries in the San Joaquin Valley Library System--online catalog. Three million volumes or titles, I forget which--it is a new century. AWWT, yes. Le Grand, kinda iffy, it's a very small place. Let some folks die. And the Shay, like I say, Merced's the only place I've seen it.
Nita, I had a copy of Yosemite Place Names but I sold it and regret it. It's by Peter Browning. The pbk I had was a different cover than the current ed. It had a Yosemite topoo on the coover. Poo-see-na-chuc-ka.
Nita's not your real name, I bet. You're prolly Yosemite Sam!!
I hope to meet you all at the square dance, I mean the round-up. Clean up? Didn't you see the video I posted on Tuesday night, earlier? Drinking? I love Lava soap.
edit: On waking I took off for the Library, the answers are there. Nita, the ISBN of Browning's 1988 book is 0944220002. It's not even close to the ones offered online. It does have a USGS map on its cover.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 16, 2012 - 06:49pm PT
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This is copyrighted material. The book is Le Grand History: Memories of the Le Grand History Club. c. 2007, Merced County Historical Society.
This is from the section of the book titled "Community."
A Trip to Yosemite Valley in 1909
Glenn Baxter
January 13, 1969
When grain harvest was finished in early September, my family including my parents, Mr. and Mrs. George Baxter, my two sisters Ellen and Mary, my two brothers Alvin (Bud) and Wallace, and Uncle John Taylor set out for Yosemite Valley in a Studebaker wagon drawn by four very active mules. A young couple from Indiana named Ellison, then farming the Brandon Ranch, followed us on the trip in a buck board drawn by two mules. My brother Bud rode his saddle horse, Chap, and my mongrel dog, Teddy, was also along. Provisions included rolled barley and hay for the mules, until natural feed was available, plus ham and bacon, potatoes, beans, canned fruit, eggs paacked in saw dust, flour for hot cakes and biscuits, lard, and coffee.
We arrived in Raymond the first day just before dusk and found drinking water at a premium. Natives sent us to the north end of town to a dug well which had a bucket on a windlass for drawing water. The men in our party had a wooden bucket and watered the mules one at a time. I remember all the snorting and jumping around the mules went through when trying to get to drink from a bucket. Supper was cooked on a camp fire and we had two lanterns hung from a limb of a tree for light.
The second day found us on our way to Fresno Flats. The road was very dusty and many chuck holes made for a rough ride in a wagon not equipped with shock absorbers. When we came to the lumber flume bringing lumber from Sugar Pine Mill to the planing mill in Madera, we boys crawled up to the flume and, sitting on lumber, had a free ride which was very exciting.
We stayed overnight at Fish Camp which was a roaring town with dance hall, stores, bunk houses for the loggers employed in the woods, and a hotel. The logging train was pulled by a small steam engine using wood for fuel and pulling ten to twelve flat cars. Many cars had only one log of the virgin sugar pine. Pine was huge in those days.
After leaving Fish Camp on our way to the Mariposa Grove of Big Trees, we overtook one of Washburn's freight teams which had ten large grey horses pulling two huge high wheeled wagons. When making short turns, the driver had his pointers jump the chain to hold the wagons close to the bank.http://www.explorehistoricalif.com/june2010.html You would have to see the horses work to really appreciate them. The driver was Bid Palmer who used to work on our ranch. He later married Nellie Jones. We had a dirty dusty day before reaching the Big Trees, as we had to travel near a forest fire which seemed as if it would never burn itself out.
When we arrived in Wawona, we were told no dogs were allowed in Yosemite Park. That was when my trouble began; you know how much a kid loves his dog, even if it is only a mongrel. I didn't get much sleep that night worrying about old Ted. The next morning, my father, old Ted, and I walked up to the Wawona stables and we ran across Johnnie Bain who was working there. I told him my problem and, bawling, asked if he would care for my dog until we came back from the Valley. He said he would.
We camped overnight at Bridal Veil meadows on the way to Glacier Point. The Raynors and Daulton families had camped there before us as several had carved their initials on the trees. [Raynor Ranch Road in Merced Co. and the small dot in the road called Daulton Ranch in Madera Co., named for the families mentioned, both pioneering ranchers.] Glacier Point was really and inspiring place, one that you really appreciated then as it was so hard to get to. There were no guard rails on Look-Out Point and I know I didn't crawl out near the ledge to see how The Valley looked below.
The road from Wawona was very steep and involved many horseshoe turns getting down to the Valley. We stopped at the old Village store and purchased more groceries before driving further into the Valley meadows to set up camp. The men folks put ropes around several trees for a corral so the mules could lie down and roll before eating. Everything was fine until morning when some army personnel came along and had us take the ropes down. We had used baling wire to hold the rope on one tree and they said the wire was scarring the tree. The mules had to be hobbled or tied up until we left the park. There were no Forest Rangers until the army left.
We took many trail hikes including Vernal and Nevada Falls, up the canyon trail above Mirror Lake, also Yosemite Falls, and other hikes in the Valley. [The trails' conditions at this time were lots more chossy than they are in the present day.] We ate some apples from the Snow Orchard that was planted by Howard Egling's grandparents who also ran a hotel in the early days. http://www.nps.gov/yose/historyculture/snow.htm
There were very few people camped in the Valley at that time. Plenty of deer running around the meadow, but none would dare come close to you as no one would feed them as they do today. We saw very few bears as the garbage pit was no attraction with all the lush berries and natural feed they had to select from in those days.
On our way home by Wawona, before reaching the covered bridge that crossed the river there, we saw a dark object rushing toward us from the bridge and soon we could see it was old Teddy coming to greet us. And greet us he did, making one big leap into the wagon and trying to kiss everyone as he was so happy to be one of the party again.
We stayed overnight at Fish Camp and the next day we rode the log train down to the Sugar Pine Saw Mill. It was a very interesting day. They had steam power to operate the saw carrier, but most of the work was done by manual labor. After the logs were sawed into lunmber, it was clamped together and put into the flume for the trip to the planing mill at Madera. We were invited to lunch in the company boarding house at noon time. After, we got aboard the empty logging train back to Fish Camp.
The following day we headed for home with everyone tired, but happy after a memorable trip.
Why the we links: the complicated jog of wagon-teaming is awfully hard to describe, believe me I have tried and this link is absolutely the best I can find. The Snows gave their last name to the famous orchard in the Curry Village area. I am pretty certain the 2.000-foot Snow Creek Falls and Creek also bear their name. It's nice to know these things.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 16, 2012 - 07:29pm PT
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Here are two short chapters--all I care to type out--which reveal a lot about John C. Shay, backwoodsman. He's your basic no-nonsense guy, a real "Werner of the Woods."
Twenty Years in the Backwoods of California. Roxburgh Publ. Co. Boston. 1923.
CHAPTER V
"Baby"
Baby was the first animal born on the place. I had always had a desire to own an ideal horse, one that I had raised and trained to my own liking. Baby came up to my ideal, even beyond my expectations. At the age of four years, after giving birth to a beautiful male colt, she was actually shot and killed. When I found her a few days later on top of the mountain, I took the bell off her neck and sat down on her haunch and had a good bawl.
This experience helped to make me unconcerned about all animals. She was the type of the perfect horse, always eager to learn some new stunts. She never knew what the stroke of a whip meant. She was a beautiful bright bay in color, with long, black mane and tail; full of dignity, and yet as docile as a kitten. Ride, pack or drive, single or double, under the saddle, in the buggy, on the sled or wagon, Baby was the ideal, obedient horse. A photograph of the neck and head of this mare was selected by an Eastern firm of advertisers as the head of the perfect horse.
CHAPTER XV
"Conclusion"
And now, after twenty years of struggle for my ideals and the fulfillment of my day dream, I am beginning to realize that I am losing my romantic taste for this kind of life. All seems to have settled down into a continual, never-ending grind. Here I might explain why this is so, but I prefer not to. Suffice it to say, conditions have changed.
For many years the settlers have seemed to me like one family. There was a real democracy among all. Our sorrows and joys were shared alike by all, but in the last few years evolution has done its work. [Please note the example in the foregoing story of Johhny Bain agreeing to watch Teddy the mongrel for Glenn.] Personalities have crept in, and men who were seemingly the best of friends are now enemies to each other. Guns were always carried by the settlers, but in the last few years more attention seems to be given to this habit than at any previous time. Nearly every settler seems to expect to have to use his gun at any time. This spirit is depressing. Old friends view each other with suspicion, and nearly everyone seems to have a grudge against some other fellow. We seem to be divided and perhaps becoming selfish. I feel a desire to go back to civilization. The city now, with its bright lights and active life, appeals to me. I am leaving the old home with all its cherished surroundings and returning to the city. My day dream has been fulfilled.
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stunewberry
Trad climber
Spokane, WA
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May 16, 2012 - 07:49pm PT
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Clarence King, first published in 1872, "Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada"
William H. Brewer, 1860, "Up and down California"
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 16, 2012 - 08:19pm PT
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Thanks, QI, many of them. Just what I needed. I think I need to take a break from this site!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 20, 2012 - 01:25am PT
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It is an amazing sight, site. Both of the title Stunewberry mentions are listed.
For the hell of it, the Valley today was practically deserted for the time of year. No kidding. I only saw one traffic jam. And I was on the YARTS and Shuttle. Totally not my doing.
Anyone who's seen my posting knows how little love I have for autos. This topic started out on a good note, the ability of man to wend his way to Yosemite. If we learn the history of the whacked out travels of tourists, etc, there will be a groundwork for the future job of restoring the place to the pre-auto era. Pie and sky, it seems.
"Nothing is impossible, the word itself says I'm possible."--Audrey Hepburn
Merry Braun and I had a talk about the auto, or at least we touched on the fact she has not owned nor wants one. Atta girl. Werner's golf cart is killer, though!
Werner told me I'm too serious...
He should talk...
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Sierra Ledge Rat
Social climber
Retired in Appalachia
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May 20, 2012 - 08:25am PT
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One of my favorites:
Yosemite Legends
Bertha Smith
1904
Engraved leather hardcover
Gold gilded edges
Great background on all the legends (Yo-sem-i-te, Ah-wa-nee, Py-we-ack, Tis-sa-ack, Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah, Tu-a-lum-ne (Tuolomne), etc.)
First editions can be had for about USD $400 to $700
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 20, 2012 - 10:01am PT
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Sierra Ledge Rat'
Clarence King is one of my favorites and that's because he has such a sense of humor. He must've been a "pistol." He was a very good writer. The best chapter in the book entertainment-wise, is, in my opinion, the one called The Newtys of Pike. Here is a paragraph. Notice the semi-colons. And the period.
That brave spirit of Westward ho! which has been the pillar of fire and cloud leading on the weary march of progress over stretches of desert, lining the way with the graves of strong men, of new-born lives, of sad, patient mothers whose pathetic longing for the new home died with them; of the thousand old and young shose last agony came to them as they marched with eyes strained on after the sunken sun, and whose shallow barrows scaracely lift over the drifting dust of the desert; that restless spirit which has dared to uproot the old and plant the new, kindling the grand energy of California, laying soundations for a state to be, that is admirable, that is poetic, is to fill an immortal page in a story of America; but when, instead of urging on to wresting from new lands something better than old can give, it degenerates into mere weak-minded restlessness, killing the power of growth, the ideal of home, the faculty of repose, it results in that race of perpetual emigrants who roam as dreary waifs over the West, losing possessions, love of life, love of God, slowly dragging from valley to valley, till they fall by the wayside, happy if some chance stranger performs for them the last rites,---often less fortunate, as blanched bones and fluttering rags upon too many hillsides plainly tell.
Not greatly humorous, I admit, but it is to the modern stylist. It's one reason why so few bother with the 19th C. for entertainment, just history. But this is the key to lots of the writers of the era. Simply reading them through one time doesn't cut it, so you have to read it over and think on it even more. Crafty devils...
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Sierra Ledge Rat
Social climber
Retired in Appalachia
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May 20, 2012 - 10:03am PT
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My favorite part of the book is his introduction!
I have the first editions of many of the titles above, including a few copies of Clarence King, 1872.
Every now and then I found a gem for $30 on some back shelf in an out-of-the-way bookstore. Now that everything is online, I've given up searching.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 20, 2012 - 01:08pm PT
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That link is just coming up grey and says "application" in the tag. Can you double-check it?
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Hardly Visible
Social climber
Llatikcuf WA
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May 20, 2012 - 01:13pm PT
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Mouse opens a pdf for me when I clik it, takes a minute or so
If all else fails do a google search on "The Big Oak Flat Road (1955) by Irene D. Paden and Margaret E. Schlichtmann"
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 20, 2012 - 01:16pm PT
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I hope Colliver's store didn't have a lot of good stuff like that. Probably not. Neither Mariposa nor Merced are hot-beds of good book bargains. The Bay Area used to be, but no longer.
Most used book stores are already "lined up" and the goods are too expensive.
Inflationus literaticus, the bookworm of the internet.
So much more rewarding to find a "bargain."
It seems like all bookstores are in decline, but we know the forests are, too. The internet seems a solution, but the problem remains, and The Problem is: TOO MANY OF US, and we won't go away.
I am of the opinion that if people read more the bigger problems would tend to be less ominous than they appear. But they don't so they do.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Topic Author's Reply - May 20, 2012 - 01:36pm PT
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HV, thanks, I found it and the article fits my use perfectly, having this thing about transport to YV; I love the photo of the "locomobiles" (what an inspired name!).
I know from whence this mania comes, from years of not having transpo to the Valley, nor climbing partners of reliability. My days of Wind-in-the-Willows-type wild rides are over, and the mileage to get where I went is overlong. I pay back with my cries of, "Hey whoa, there, folks...."
Thankya, Neeb. See ya on the ranch?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Sep 11, 2012 - 06:08pm PT
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This was my first topic back in May. I have learned much since.
The Book I am presenting to you , many know of, since Steve Roper wrote the text body up to page 41. It's loaded with the history you mostly know. But it is a short read, and it is Steve, so...
I won't quote text. It's a book by one of us. It's title is Yosemite Once Removed. It belongs on the coffee table or the bathroom. It's subject, the Valley is shunned. Anyplace else in Yosemite's fair game for the lens of Claude Fiddler.
There is one very good section which outlines the futile efforts of the Sierra Club to keep the Tioga Rd. from being re-routed so there could be a modern way to drive over the pass and lessen the traffic hazards and sloth at which trailers moved up the grade. I have an old SC Bulletin with some photos of the road being made in the late 50s. As are many, my thoughts and feelings are at odds. The destruction of the slabs, the roadcuts, the re-routing, this all came to pass (PI) and could not be halted nor modified. That road-builing is why this got put here in the Topic "related literary efforts."
So that means we are going to be discussing both the South Entrance area as well as the Tioga Pass area here...
If anyone finds anything about the area, you are encouraged to place your pick here if it's in book form. Just for the sake of organizing sources, really. You should makeup your own topic to discuss, but this is a good place to review. Just keep the topic to transportation.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 29, 2013 - 06:58am PT
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Since I have been driving again, after a lengthy hiatus in my life which is now over (the hiatus, I mean), I find myself making up for lost time. This may account for my manic behavior of late (I know, I've always been like this, some will say): the odd hours, showing up whenever and wherever, the amount of time I spend verbalizing and picturating these motor excursions, and the poetic inspiration this all may provide as an antidote to my innercism, my tendency to sneer at turkeys.
I try to be nice. I hope all this is inter-sting, too.
And this meant not reading as much as I used to do, EST, "ere super topo," and now, especially, BFN, "before far niente."
I bought a red HHR
And I drove it far.~~Steve Miller
So the deal is this, I've always been enamored of the so-called-by-me 'Tri-County Intersection Sections.' The area around the Chowchilla River, down into eastern Madera County, near Raymond, and the area to either side of the Stockton-Millerton Road from the Merced River south to the points south. Like Clovis and Fresno.
My advice to youth: "Don't go south, young man."
I feel the need to know the histories of these places, moreso even than that of Yosemite, for that place is loved by many, extolled by most, where the TCIS is mostly and always will be the 'empty quarter' of the San Jaoquin plains, as the miners see it, or, from a farming perspective, the 'barren ground' of the foothills, home to mining trolls and Injuns.
I say it needs to have its tales revealed, and there are ALWAYS tales wherever humans come together. It's one of the joys of the campfire, the relating of tales. The telling is fun. Listening to history ought to be fun, too. I find it important to realize our ANCESTORS had no books. The telling was entertainment and history, both at the same time.
My own imagination can run riot, inventing how things might have been. The truth is that I want to KNOW how life got on many decades ago in our world, which seemed a lot bigger then, to begin with. It took so long to get from place to place, and if you were lucky, someone would be to home to greet you, no calling ahead to check that. Unless you sent a letter, you gambled they would be there, might even hope the folks you wanted to see were even still in residence or hadn't died.
History is where you find it, too. As an example, I never heard of Pumpkin Soup until I read about it in neebee's "Jake's Ranch and the Second Gate." It is what folks have on the place to eat, so they fix it up and eat it. Nothing on a ranch goes to waste, ever. And this was especially so out in the empty quarter of Mariposa/Merced/Madera Counties, where homesteaders never hardly made it without a job of work to boot what they had produced off their dry, mostly useless holdings.
And they pulled together when the governments were not set up or funded to help with road-work, especially, which consumes more time in the foothills than in the plains, naturally. It is one big reason that Merced took and left Mariposa in 1855 and became its own damn county, by gosh! The expense of roads in the hills was inordinate, prohibitive, and kept many from making a living in mining. Which meant homesteaders. Who then had to maybe go to work for the logging outfits instead.
Expediency: like having nothing but a branch to use to replace a broken gate's post, not a proper fence post, so you use it; like using a burlap sack to keep your food fresh; keeping a pot of stew on the simmer for several days, adding what you pleased or had to put in the pot, even old apple cores, why feed them to the pig, if you had a pig. Feed a extra child, get more work than from a pig. Ranch values.
The miners had their values, pretty much the same basics as a family of homesteaders, but tempered by bachelorhood or communal living with other males, of which there was quite a lot. Cowboys bunked communally, of course, and construction camps for railroads, logger's and sawmill hands' dorms and their huge dining halls, the local units of US Cavalry housed at various locations, and the teamsters circled up in an overnight stay along the trail, all these had their relative values. And their tales.
My fascination continues with a text from the Merced Genealogical outfit.
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