Uh-oh, looks like trouble, beware of these cats on the upcoming All Hallow’s Eve!
This weekend we we are headed up to northern Nevada for the annual Leonard Creek Halloween Party. It should be a spooktacular time!!!
by Daniel Montero
Once upon the time there was a meadow, a great meadow with a river flowing through it. Our culture arrived and straightened the river into a main channel and built agriculture and later a city, my city, Reno. Along the river channel, the Truckee River, there is a concrete path, the River Path, and it is a place that is near and dear to my heart. It has always been a little escape, a dive into the wilderness—both literal and figurative—but since the completion of the McCarran path it has become an artery for me, a main route upon which I launch myself into my outer life, my profession, my leisure, my health, and my mind. I ride along it to work and I think about the day and I come to realizations about things that I would never have considered otherwise. I ride home late singing and dancing. It is no utopia, and every day I ride it I also see evidence of human pain, of the detritus of our culture. I ride through immigrants desperate for work, mentally challenged, people living on the river in many circumstances, the pains of addiction, my own worries and doubts of myself. I listen to music sometimes and want to block it all out, but it is in there, and then I turn a corner and catch a new view of Mount Rose in the distance, or a trick of light, a goose taking flight or gliding into the water, the play of the sun on the pinto hills of Hidden Valley, the “Truckee’s silvery rills,” and I return to my life, my continual desire to appreciate and wonder about our world.
Of the recent flowering of Reno that is happening, one of my favorites is that the Truckee River is finally getting the appreciation that it deserves for being one of the most unique little parts of the planet that it is. There are many pieces of it, from One Truckee River to the Nature of Art (and which I have written on here and here as well in other posts and the like) on the McCarran Ranch Preserve to the white water park in downtown Reno and the Tahoe-Pyramid bikeway that will one day seek to unite them all. I am proud to see it and to be a tiny part of it.
So today I went through my phone and found some of my favorite snaps from this year on the Truckee. Check back because I might add to them as I find and take more.
when you silent desert disco under an awesome desert sunset. You don’t quite get the sunset from the video but here it is.
By Renee Aldrich
I love the area we live in, Nevada, it is great in so many ways, one way is that it is the most mountainous of all the states in the U.S., containing over 300 mountain ranges. Dan and I love playing in these ranges and, on occasion, climbing their peaks. We don't consider ourselves "peak baggers" even though we enjoy climbing peaks. our propensity is to explore. We go there, to the mountains, for so many reasons, much more so than simply making the peaks. Sometimes, when we don't make the peak, we really enjoy the chance to explore and learn about the area we are in.
A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to climb two very unique peaks within a few days of each other. The peaks are very different, one is in the Carson Range on the edge of the Sierra Mountains and one is in the Lake Range east of Pyramid Lake. One has a well kept trail with many daily visitors, the other has no trail and likely only sees a handful of visitors a year. One, you hike through lush meadows with a waterfall and, during the right time of year, wildflowers galore. The other, there's very little water and was recently burned over so badly it was like hiking on Mars--it's no wonder they call an area moonscaped once it has been burned so hard that there is very little left but black ground and barely a stump to be seen.
Both of these mountains are beautiful in their own way and are great examples of the broad spectrum of landscapes Nevada has to offer.
Tohakum, Lake Range:
Tohakum is the tallest of the peaks in the Lake Range at 8,182 feet. It's a desert peak, which makes spring or fall the best time of year to hike this peak. The hike has great views of Winnemucca Lake and the Selenite Range to the east and once you're up on the ridge you have great views of Pyramid Lake and the Virginia Mountains to the West.
Below are thumbnails of the pictures in a gallery click on the picture to see it at it's full size, then you can scroll through the photos.
Mount Rose: Carson Range
Mount Rose is the 2nd tallest mountain in the Tahoe Basin at 10,776 ft. It is a very popular hike attracting many hikers. It's a great hike throughout the year. hiking spring summer and fall and snowshoeing in winter. From the peak you have great 360 degree views. With views of Lake Tahoe, Jobs Peak, Freel Peak, Jobs Sister, Mount Tallac, Lassen, Bocca and Stampede Reservoirs and so much more!
Enjoy the slideshow!
We absolutely love coming across magnificent creatures when we're out exploring. Big Horn Sheep are a wonderful sight!
By Daniel Montero
The black, in firefighter speak, is the charred earth where the fire has already passed. Every year sees the creation of new black in Nevada, and this year’s busy wildfire season has been no exception. For firefighters, the black means safety, a place the fire will never catch you as it cannot chase its own tail. For others it means destruction, emptiness, finality. The starkness of the desert is even greater in the black, and the reminder of the frailty of existence. Getting out exploring the desert like we do, we have walked on the black many times, but this year we have had three unique experiences in the black that I will share in a trilogy of posts.
Early this spring, before the fire season even started, we had our first experience of the black. We went out to camp in the Desatoya Mountains east of Middlegate at the mouth of Big Den Creek. We were able to arrive much earlier than the rest of our group and so we left the car and started to hike generally toward Desatoya Peak. From the camp spot we could see the evidence of recent fire, but it wasn’t until we climbed higher that it’s enormity revealed itself. Climbing we stayed north and generally west of the black, but on the way down we descended straight into it. It was early enough on a wet spring—and the fire must have been late—because there was no growth at all. Big snowdrifts remained on the steep slopes and the contrast between early spring, white snow, and usually summertime black was especially striking in the high basin of Big Den Creek. Along the creek itself what had been a large grove of aspens were only skeletons breaking the line of sky and mountain. In the early spring it is common to walk among unbudded trees, but this was different, the starkness harder somehow, less buffered by the promise of life.
Introduced Larry to Long Valley Canyon a few weeks ago, but also reintroduced myself. The winter floods completely wiped away the trail and it was a whole new place in many ways. All the old charm, of
course, but also scoured clean.
By Renee Aldrich originally posted on womenbewild.org on 10/19/16
I stepped off the trail to take a piss. I looked up and an old pine tree caught my eye, I smiled and said "Hello, old timer." As I started to walk away the old tree grabbed my arm tightly and said "I may be rugged in my beauty, but I am fragile in my nature. I am holding on to this life, holding on with everything that I've got, but my time here is limited, it is almost out. I need you, we need you. We need you to stand strong and fight. Fight for those of us who have no voice. Fight for future generations so we can live and thrive. You are us and we are you. Do not forget."
This blog is dedicated to stories and ideas from our explorations. We hope you enjoy!
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