Good evening, Campers! It’s Silver Cliche’ here with you again. It’s night #2 in Three Rivers, California.
So, the word was out around the campground last night that Sequoia National Park (that’s why we are here in Three Rivers... to go to Sequoia and see big trees... I mean REALLY big trees... I think that why everyone is here) has been busy. Even weekdays have been jammed. We were advised by the owners of the campground that leaving by 9:00 AM was highly recommended. If you’ve been reading this blog you know we don’t leave at 9:00 AM for any reason, ever. They could be giving out free tankfuls of gas for Tundras just down the street and we wouldn’t get moving early. Our preferred time of departure is noon. We consider 10:30 to be “an early start”. But, we decided to heed the warnings and head out. We rolled at 8:59.
I knew that the trip from here to the world’s largest tree (by volume... seriously) which is named “the General Sherman” was about an hour. I also knew that the National Park Service did not recommend longer vehicles or trailers because the road was narrow, winding and steep. No worries! The trailer was staying in Three Rivers while we drove up the hill.
Our campsite is at 950 feet above sea level. It’s 22 miles to the General. We reached the park entrance and flashed our “Lifetime Senior National Parks Pass“ to the ranger in the Smokey the Bear hat and we were in! Thank you, America! Yes, we old timers do deserve to see America’s parks for free while the rest of you shell out $30 a car load to get in.
The road looked more than slightly familiar. In was reminiscent of yesterday’s drive across CA155 to get here. Steep, narrow, windy and sparsely guardrailed. Two significant differences stood out. First, this road had lots of traffic — mostly headed up given our early start. Second, it had regular pull outs for people to stop to take in the views. Unfortunately, our cell bandwidth here is dramatically restricted and sharing pics with you will have to wait. Mrs. C’ took amazing shots for our “Silver Cliche’ Passenger Experience” series. I took none for the driving experience series. I feared that any time I took away from focusing on the next curve could have been the inspiration for an act of Congress known as the “ M&M S. Cliche’ Memorial Sequoia Guardrail Installation Act”. We didn’t want that. So the pics will have to wait, but I’ll upload them once cell service permits it.
We knew we had a while to drive before we reached our objective, the giant General. To help mark the time, the Park Service installed elevation signs every 1,000 vertical feet starting at 3,000. The vegetation there was similar to the valley. It was average trees, weedy looking, scrubby undergrowth, large wild grasses, nothing worth the hoopla. It was a bit cooler. 4,000, same. 5,000, same. What the heck? We came to see giant, stinkin’ trees. So far, zero giant trees had been sighted. At about 6,000 feet above sea level the first giant trees appeared. That’s almost exactly the same elevation as Greenhorn Pass on CA155 yesterday where we saw the redwoods and my low fuel warning light came on.
The sequoias stand out from the other trees around in almost every way. Naturally, the circumference of their trunks is the first giveaway. They can be 100’ around at the base. It can take them 3,000 years to grow that large. Next is the fact that there are no limbs near ground level. The high limbs shade the forest floor so well that little grows beneath them. The effect is stunning since the trunks at ground level are unobscured by smaller trees (you know... maples, oaks, sycamores, elms and such... smaller trees like those) or brush. Next is the texture of the bark. It is deeply furrowed and often scarred by fire. Heck, even if a wild fire only rages through here once every 100 years some of these trees have seen 30 major fires. The furrows in the bark are deep enough to hide small children. I’m thinking “hide and go seek” in a forest of giant sequoias would entail a thorough furrow search. But finally, the breathtaking feature of these beasts is their color. They are cinnamon. In a forest of brown and grey bark they wear a color that is theirs alone.
We later learned that these trees appear in groves — clusters if you will allow me — in a small band of ecosystem found only here in the Western Sierra Nevada range. That band is roughly 15 miles east to west and 250 miles north to south. That’s it. Nowhere else on earth. They are the heaviest living creatures on earth and the oldest. Their cousins the redwoods can be taller, but not as heavy and not as big around. They also inhabit a larger area, but still only in California.
We reached the General Sherman viewing area at about 10:30. It was 7,100 feet elevation and 53 degrees — 30 degrees cooler than the forecast for the valley below. Mrs. C’ tended the dogs while I descended the path from the parking area to see the world’s largest tree. It was a half mile walk downhill. For a seasoned citizen who lives in the thick, moist air at 5’ above sea level, the prospect of hiking back a half mile from 6,850 feet to 7,100 feet crossed my mind with each step I took downward toward the General. Then, I came around a bend and there he was! The main overlook was about 100’ above the ground his trunk emerged from. I looked down at the base. It didn’t seem so big... look... there are ants around it... no... wait... those are people! This sucker is huge! I looked upward, the trunk tapers only slightly. I continued looking up, past level toward the sky then... what? Where is the rest of it? General Sherman is topless! A sign at the overlook explains his situation. The top section evidently rotted and fell off. Hey, they never said it was the “tallest”, only the “biggest”. You’ll see when I get a chance to post the pics.
So, we drove the 22 miles back to base camp, we avoided becoming an act of Congress, walked, watered and locked up the dogs and drove to town for an ice cream (meh!) and some retail therapy. It’s a simple town, Three Rivers. It clearly lives off the visitors to Sequoia but does so in an honest, sincere way. The folks we met were genuine, warm and welcoming. This isn’t a town that thinly hides the contempt it feels for the visitors who sustain it. A standard conversation starter is “where are you from?”. Our story is a bit unusual and beginning to stand out. We are 30 days and 4,300 miles into a 10,000 mile trip. That’s worth a few points in a game of “can you top this”.
Tomorrow we roll west across the most fertile agriculture area in the U.S., the San Joaquin Valley. If all goes as planned, we will watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean from our campsite in a Federal park near Big Sur. Our trip began on a day when we watched the sun rise over the Atlantic from our driveway. We will have traveled literally the width of the continent. I hope you’ll come along!
Later...
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