ANOTHER DAY of dramatically changing surroundings begins this morning with Linda running out to a nearby Carl's Jr. fast-food drive-through and bringing back breakfast. We all leave the motel early (around 8:00), but we have some additional shopping to do before we start our long journey. Linda's back began bothering her right after the first day we spent driving in this car, and has gotten progressively worse each day. This morning she wants to buy a cushion in hopes that it will help, so we stop at a Thrifty drugstore and she finds one that's just right. At least it seems like it would be just right, except that the massage feature is broken. So we return to the store (fortunately we found out about it only a couple miles down the road) and she replaces it with a good one.

As we continue west on highway 178, we begin climbing again. Here, the scenery changes dramatically around us as we rise in elevation. First, the small cactus and scrubweed on the desert floor gives way to Joshua trees. These relatives of the yucca cactus are much larger and, like trees, they grow in groves. Not long after, pine trees begin intermingling with the Joshuas and later take over completely. This is the southern tip of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, one of the highest mountain ranges in America. In fact, Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the contiguous states, is located in this range, although the mountains are nowhere near that high in this part. Officially, this is part of the Sequoia National Forest, but it's a long way from Sequoia National Park itself. We are headed toward Lake Isabella, a recreation area created by the Kern River Dam, where we finally say goodbye to trusty old highway 178 and turn north and west onto state highway 155. Now the climb becomes very steep and twisty. Among the pine trees we can see Sequoias (not Giant Sequoias, but still much bigger than the pine trees). As we crest the mountains at Alta Sierra, we wonder how anyone manages to drive anywhere here in the winter snows.

Descending the western face of the mountains, we drive through miles of rolling hills and valleys covered with the gold grass and green oak trees that is almost the definition of rural California. There are horse farms here, and cattle grazing stations. The hills grow smoother and the valleys shallower as we progress across the alluvial fan toward the Delano and the great San Joaquin Valley. Our original plan was to pick up state highway 99 at Delano and take it (at freeway speeds) through Tulare, turning off to Visalia and on to state highway 198 and Three Rivers. Mary, Lou, and Lizzy do take that route, but Linda suggested we try state highway 65 instead, as we get to it earlier and it is a more direct route, despite being more limited in speed. As it later turns out, the difference is minimal; the Waters' arrive at our destination less than fifteen minutes after we do.

We are now at the eastern edge of the greatest agricultural area in California, and probably the greatest in America. As we drive through the towns of Ducor, Terra Bella, and Porterville, we pass lettuce fields and citrus groves that extend for miles in each direction. We drive through Lindsay, where nearly every olive you've ever seen came from, regardless of the brand name on the label. We reach Visalia and turn eastward onto highway 198 for the short drive through the citrus groves and peach orchards of Lemoncove to the Lake Kaweah recreation area and the lovely little resort town of Three Rivers.

Three Rivers is a delightfully untouted community of arts & crafts shops, restaurants, and lovely scenery located minutes from Sequoia National Park on one side and the Lake Kaweah recreational area on the other. We arrive at the Best Western motel at 1:00 and check into our room. The desk clerk remarks that we are the lucky beneficiaries of a reservations glitch: the only room available in a smoking section is a suite, for which we will not be charged extra. Upon entering the room, Linda's first reaction is "Cancel the rest of the trip; I don't want to leave here". Our room, on the second floor overlooking the hills and a rocky stream, is huge, with a separate living room and a sliding glass door that opens out to a large deck. There are cathedral ceilings and a large bedroom which also overlooks the deck and the view. On checking in, the desk clerk tells us of good restaurants for lunch and dinner, and gives us directions on finding them.After meeting with Mary, Lou, and Lizzy here, we drive on toward Sequoia National Park, stopping for lunch at Anne Lang's Emporium combination candle shop and deli. Here we eat sandwiches at an umbrella-covered table on a deck overlooking the creek and feed bread scraps to a bluejay who cautiously takes them to a safe area for eating.

Signs on the way into Sequoia National Park warn of road construction and possible delays, and almost immediately after entering the park we encounter the first of several flagman roadblocks. Construction lasts about half the way up the many switchbacks as we climb the mountainside. Along with the special exhibit trees, we pass many giant sequoias along the way to the Lodgepole Visitors' Center. This time both cars arrive together, as we never were separated, and we don't spend much time here before backtracking to the interesting sights we'd passed. We are planning this visit to be mostly a drive-through; Mary and Linda are concerned about the prospect of driving down the twisty mountain road after dark, and they (along with Lizzy) are planning to leave together before Lou and I do. Lodgepole is the furthest point we are going to, and we then turn back, stopping at the exhibit areas on the way.

The first place we stop at is the site of the General Sherman Tree. It is 275 feet tall with a base circumference of nearly 103 feet, it's trunk alone weighs an estimated 1,385 tons. It is between 2,300 and 2,700 years old and is the largest of the largest living things on earth. At least one species of tree lives longer, one has a greater diameter, three grow taller, but none is larger in terms of the volume of total wood. Each year the General Sherman adds enough wood growth to make a 60-foot-tall tree of usual proportions.

Still in all, it is surrounded by giant sequoias that are only slightly less massive, so it doesn't appear as huge as we'd anticipated. The General Sherman is surrounded by partitions, and also by tourists. But several others along a hiking trail we take are easily accessible - and not crowded at all. Sequoia trees are impervious to just about everything, including most forest fires, and we can see the charred spots where fires have eaten the bark away. In some cases the tree may be completely hollowed out, and still it lives.We also stop to take a picture of our car at Auto Log, a tree with a base diameter of 27 feet which fell in 1917. Since then, thousands of tourists have driven out along the flattened upper surface to photograph their cars atop it. Most of these tourists were terrified of driving off the edge of the tree, and Linda was no exception. Waiting for her to take her turn, I notice that each car stops at the same spot, several feet from the end of the flattened section. This is the point where the drivers all feel they have gone as far as they can go. From the Auto Log we drive to the base of Moro Rock, a peak which rises several hundred feet above the trees and commands a view of the entire region.

Linda, Mary, and Lizzy take their car and head back from here to the motel, leaving Lou and I to make the arduous climb to the top of the granite monolith. There are steps that were carved into the rock in the 1930's, so we aren't exactly ready to qualify as "rock climbers", but these don't quite qualify as a staircase, either. The steps are crudely cut into the stone; sometimes they are wide, other times very narrow. At several points the steps consist only of slashes in the rocks to mark the location of the trail. Steel-pipe handrails are installed in some places, but not most, and in some places there is nothing but a curb between the climber and the abyss below. The climb is 420 feet vertically from where the trail starts to the peak, but the valley below is several thousand feet down. The trail is also narrow, too narrow for people to pass without one or the other finding a crevice to climb into. At the top, elevation 6,725 feet, the view is breathtaking. But there is another, indescribable feeling as well. It may be akin to what a true mountain climber feels at the summit. It is certainly as close to that feeling as I ever expect to get.

After descending Moro Rock, during which we paused for awhile to watch a team of real rock climbers finish their ascent up the face using pins and line, we drive through the Tunnel Tree a couple times and out to Crescent Meadow before returning back down the mountain to Three Rivers and our motel. The women, who are already out at the pool, have their own discovery story to tell. On their way back they came upon a black bear walking along the highway, only five to seven feet from them. Linda wanted to stop for pictures, but Mary, not pleased with the prospect of stopping the car only to find out that the bear might not be as friendly as it looked, pushed on.

We encountered another form of four-legged wildlife around the swimming pool in the motel. There are cats here. At least four of them, all friendly (although one hissed at Linda). They pretty much take care of themselves, but enjoy some occasional attention from the guests.

Tonight for dinner, Linda and I drove out to the Pizza Factory in town and brought back pizza, soda, and beer. We all sat around our living room table and played poker.

We also kept an eye on the television, because there has been a development that may have some effect on our plans for tomorrow: a brushfire is raging in the Angeles National Forest north of the San Fernando Valley, and as of this moment Interstate 5, the main artery of Southern California (and our only viable route tomorrow) is closed…

We drove 254 miles today.

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Story and original photography copyright ©1996-1997 by John Lipman. All rights reserved.
Descriptions, observations, and characterizations expressed are solely those of the author.
Background music is copyright ©1996 by Jeff R. Bosset . All rights reserved.

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