2200 year old giants; Whatchoolookinat? Bear Butt

Sequoia National Park is the nation’s second-oldest national park; it and the adjacent National Monument are named for the largest trees on earth. We got up very early Tuesday to beat the crowds that arrive around 10:00 AM at the General Sherman Tree, which is the focal point for tourists in the Giant Forest. As we walked down the steep half-mile long path from the parking area, I commented on the benches every hundred yards or so, “This is a bench for older people to rest.” My bride commented back, “Darling, are you tired already?” I ignored her insinuation and marched smartly down the trail to the General Sherman Tree, one of the most impressive sights on earth. Already a couple hundred years old when Jesus lived, this beautiful tree today stands 275 feet high, has a circumference of 103 feet at ground level, and weighs 1,385 tons. That little red speck at the base of the tree is Suzanne.

Giant Forest is like a cathedral; it was revered by the naturalist John Muir, who explored it and gave it its name.  It is the home of four of the five largest trees on earth. Sequoias are not as tall as its cousins the Redwoods, but they are much larger in mass.

Suzanne took a few moments to commune with nature and exchange energy with this Sequoia; she said the powerful, live energy she felt was much like putting her hands on a big horse at a friend’s farm back in Florida.

After the Sherman Tree, we hiked the nearby Congress Trail, a loop that takes you through Giant Forest, past the Chief Sequoyah tree, the President Tree, the Senate grove, and the Congress Grove. The rangers had been doing some preventive burns to remove excess combustible vegetation, and there were areas still smoldering, with ethereal wisps of smoke among the Sequoias. It seemed other-worldly at times. Since we had arrived early, there was hardly anyone else on the trail; we could have been on another planet or in another time; it was a very special experience.

After lunch we did another hike, up the Marble Fork of the Kaweah River to Tokopah Falls. (Doesn’t the name alone sound beautiful?) The trail passes through conifer forest loaded with chipmunks, Steller’s Jays and woodpeckers. Then you hike along the river with dozens of crystal clear pools to the towering waterfall that tumbles down granite cliffs above treeline on the north side of Alta Peak. (The river volume was much reduced because we are here late in the season; it is spectacular in spring with snowmelt providing much higher volume.) The last half mile of trail is over a jumble of boulders, some the size of houses. 

As we reached the end of the trail, we saw a pair of marmots scurrying among the rocks. 

Suzanne whistled to one, and he (she?) stopped and looked in confusion. His expression was one of “Whatchoolookinat?” Or was he considering charging? Marmots can be fiercely aggressive when cornered.  ;-)








We were safe; after a few perfect poses, he turned and gave us a look at his furry rear end. We have been "Mooned by a Marmot"... sounds sort of romantic... well, not exactly...

After the marmot photo shoot, I decided to rest for a few; what nicer place could you pick for a nap?

On the return to the car, we passed a hiker who warned us about a bear just ahead of us. Sure enough, there was a cinnamon-colored black bear foraging in a meadow just 50 yards off the trail. He was apparently unaware of our presence, or was simply ignoring us. 

We hoped he would come closer, because I had left my telephoto lens in the car, expecting to shoot mountains, not wildlife. I thought about walking stealthily through the meadow and approaching the bear undiscovered for a point-blank photo, like the scout Hawkeye in The Last of the Mohicans, one of my favorite books as a kid... then I was reminded of Alaska, where hikers wear “bear bells” to let the grizzlies know they’re hiking down the trail... the second part of that story is the question, “How do you know if the scat (poop) you’re looking at is grizzly bear scat? Look for the bear bells in it...” So, foregoing the stealth approach, I waited on top of my big rock, but finally the bear said farewell with a marmot-like pose... Sadly, I had been mooned twice in two hours...