[Extracts from Picturesque California.]

• Main Author: Muir, John
• Format: Text
• Language: English
• Published: Scholarly Commons 1892
• Subjects: John Muir; Bibliography; Kimes; William F. Kimes; Maymie B. Kimes; pamphlets; journal articles; speeches; writing; naturalist; annotation; Arctic; Boreas; Bowers; Ferguson; Gulch; Indian; Perseverance; South Fork; Splinter; The Cathedral; Whirlwind
• Online Access: https://scholarlycommons.pacific.edu/jmb/209; https://scholarlycommons.pacific.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1208&context=jmb

THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. J39 THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. BY JAMES M. CAKSON. O understand the Yosemite rightly, to comprehend its wonderful possibilities and appropriate the extraordinary variety of aspects under which Nature presents that stupendous tern Mr. S. M. Cunninefha ple of hers to learn the lessons taught in that great school for the instruction of the human soul in the workings of all-powerful force, and read correctty the hieroglyphics and picture-writings that elevate the mind to some idea of the infinite, we must see the valley under all the many changes of atmospherical condition. We must see it not once, but many times; we must visit it during bright summer days, and be there when the storm-despot drives over it in his chariot of whirlwind and fire and we must dwell in it when the ice-king of the north has sent thither his ministers to make it their abode for awhile. The ordinary summer tourist, with his hasty visit and hurried trips along the common well-beaten routes, sees but one stereotyped aspect of the Yosemite. Nor is it an easy matter to enter it in the winter time, except for those well practised in the use of the snow-shoe and capable of great endurance. Therefore, let our readers—many of whom are doubtless well acquainted with the appearance of the valley during the visitors' season— travel in imagination to it in the depth of winter and see it with the eyes of those who have lived in it for years, and of those who live in it now. The first white man to make the Yosemite his place of residence during the winter time was Mr. James C. Damon. j.vj.1. j. m. unnmgiiani arufl Mr. Buck Beardsley erected a cabin the valley, during the year 1857, whiM was broken clown in the following winter by the weight of snow, and a more substantial one was built in iScg This was opened as a hotel, and kept by Mr. and Mrs. John H. Neal f0r' Mr. Cunningham, who kept it himself during the two following seasons. 1859 138 a more commodious establish, mentfor the accommodation of visitors known as the '' Old Hutchings House" was opened, but these places were closed during the winter mouths, ft was in the spring of this last men- tioned year, according to Mr. John Muir, that the pioneer, Lamon " loaded an old horse with fruit-trees and a scant supply of provisions, and made his way into the valley from Mariposa, built himself a cabin beneath the shadow of the great Half Dome, cleared a fertile spot on the left bank of Tena}ra Creek, and planted an orchard and a garden." In spite of hardships and the discouraging prognostications of friends, -"year after year he held on undaunted, clearing and stirring the virgin soil, planting and pruning remaining alone winter and summer with marvelous constancy." From Mr. Muir's account one would be apt to conclude that Lamon began his continuous residence ] in the Yosemite in 1859; but Mr. Hutchings, in his well-known work, '' In the Heart of the Sierras,'' states that after he had himself demonstrated 1 that a residence at Yosemite in winteiB was possible, Lamon "was the firstB to try the experiment, and spent the winters of 1862-64 there entirely s alone." Early in March, 1862, Mr. Hutchings had penetrated the valley under extraordinary difficulties and a display v-traordinary perseverance and "' •1itv Abandoned by two com- "treiu who could not withstand the "'""{ toiling along through knee- pan ions SHOW 'l"" "• - "i — r- if mirsued his way alone, and for J1C v ciayS never saw human face. *![" heavy pack, comprising blank- Si overcoat, axe, rations for fifteen 's and sundry other requisites, he 140 THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. mountains in November, in which month the storm-clouds begin to announce that they will presently make their appearance. Their couriers in advance, the fleeting mist-billows, come and go, wandering among the domes and crag-tops, first hiding one and then another from view, lingering here and loitering there as if loath to depart. They fondle the lofty spires and minarets, and floating high above the valley kiss the pine and fir-tops on the mountain brows. As they unwillingly move away, the first storm- clouds take their place, weaving a canopy of mist over the valley from wall to wall. As you look upward from below through the clear atmosphere in the valley, and mark that the summits of El Capitan, the Cathedral spires, and all the other granite giants of Yosemite are hidden in the overhanging roof of cloud-mist, you can imagine that they are supporting a vast sun-screen stretched taut across the valley. As yet, however, the Indian summer still lingers; the Merced has shrunk to its smallest dimensions, and is divided into numerous glassy pools connected by trickling threads of softly murmuring water. In December the snowstorms set in; the heavily charged clouds sink down into the valley hiding the mighty rocks and cliffs from sight. Presently snowflakes fall, the storm bursts out in its fury and the frozen cloud-mist darkens the air as it descends to earth in ever thicker and faster-falling flakes. Then follow mysterious sounds, dully echoing through the valley, grinding and rasping and crashing noises, and heavy thuds and muffled explosions. They are the voices of the avalanches as they tear themselves loose from the roofs of the sloping domes and the summits of the granite walls, and dash themselves down with a booming and a rumbling into the valleys below, rivaling the waterfalls in the impetuosity of their descent. When the storm ceases and the clouds disperse, several of the largest of such snow- THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. 141 slides may be seen. Mr. Muir thfl describes a Yosemite snowfall: '' WbJS the mass first slips on the upper slops of the mountain, adull, rumbling sou4| is heard, which increases with heavy deliberation, seeming to come nearer and nearer with appalling intensity 0fI tone. Presently the grand flood is j seen rushing with wild, outbounding energy over some precipitous portion of its channel, long, back-trailing streamers fringing the main body of J the current like the spray and whirling folds of mist about a waterfall. Now it is partly hidden behind fringes of live oak, now in full view, leaping from bench to bench, spreading and narrowing and throwing out long fringes of rockets airily draped with convolving gossamer tissue of snow- dust. Compared with waterfalls, these snowfalls have none of the keen, hiss-1 ing, clashing sounds so common in some portion of the currents of waterfalls but the loud, booming thunder tones, the pearly whiteness of the mass, with lovely gray tones in the half-shadows, the arching leaps over precipices, the narrowing in gorges, I the expansions into lace-like sheets upon smooth inclines and the final dashing into upswirling clouds of spray at the bottom are the same in both." Snowstorm follows snowstorm. Winter has arrived with his liege lord the frost-king and his fierce ally Boreas. He has spread his icy mantle over theB Yosemite. The mighty cliffs andB domes look down upon the valley as in the summer months, but it is with forbidding stateliness, and with threat-, ening aspect. How changed the scene and different the attractions ! The smiling vale is no longer gay with gorgeous bowers and bright with green meadow lands no longer is it resonant with the hum of busy insects, the murmuring lullabies of slumbering I streams, and the joyous songs of summer birds; zephyr no longer whispers to the pine fronds as he floats softly through the forest; and echo no longer repeats the exclamations of| A visitors. The Merced rolls its 8 lieu current impetuously through S alley, flooding many an acre of l!'! meadow land—for rain as well as '.,] has fallen the woods are hoarse s"°,f protesting against the fierceness Wf the storm-blasts the snowslide 1 ms the beholder in awe as it races a0. , trie waterfall in its downward V „o-e and slabs of talus and unshapely chunks of rock loosen their hold of 1 heir parent cliff, as water and weather 1o their work, and are washed with din and headlong speed down into the valley- It is true that such terrifying storms do not occur with frequency, but one such was witnessed by Mr. Hutchings and his family during the winter of 1867 when they were the only residents in the valley. _ On that exceptional occasion the rain poured down incessantly for ten successive days all the meadowland was covered with a surging flood large trees were swept over the ridge of the upper Yosemite and shivered into fragments on the granite rocks and pines and cedars were blown down and piled in confusion upon each other by the windstorm that followed the rain.* Seen from some advantageous standpoint, the valley, in an ordinary winter, presents a wonderful variety [of snow patterns and frostwork, constituting a marvelous exhibition of curious figures, and groupings of irregular forms and constructions. 'Snow covers the sloping rocks and summits of the cliffs, except where the storm-blast has swept them bare. It can find no resting place on the perpendicular walls, but in every crevice, and on every ledge it effects a lodgment. Vast fields of white stretch out to view in the distant Sierras the meadow lands seem paved with the whitest marble and the Merced is dotted and sprinkled with white blotches where the snow and ice- capped rocks and bowlders peep above lits surface. The forest, too, is speckled with the feathery plumage of In the heart of the Sierras by T. M. Hutchings, pp. 492-93. snowflake and frozen drift which weave fantastic forms as they rest pillowed on the foliage of redwood, pine and spruce. In the valley, on windless days, the drip of melting snow, or the thud of a mass of it that has lost its hold under the rays of the sun, or the crash of a fallen icicle ever and anon mingles with the roar of the waterfalls and the hum of the torrents. On the banks of boisterous streams the flute-toned voice of the water-ouzel strikes pleasantly on the ear, and the hoarse honk of wild geese is heard as they make their way into the valley up the canon of the Merced. But Boreas is not unfrequently abroad, driving his furious storm- steeds through the Sierras then other sights are seen, and other sounds break upon the ear. The following extract is a description by John Muir of one of these visits of the northern blast: '' Farty one winter morning, I was awakened by the fall of pine-cones on the roof of my cabin. A noble storm-wind from the north filled the valley with its sea-like roar, arousing the pines to magnificent activity, swaying the most steadfast giants of them all like supple reeds, plucking off branches and plumes and strewing them on the clean, smooth snow. The sky was garish white, without clouds, the strange glare being produced, no doubt, by fine snow dust diffused through the air. The wild swirling and bending of the pine trees, the dazzling light, the roar of the wind sweeping through the grand domes and headlands, and eddying in many a rugged canon and hollow, made altogether a most exciting picture but afar on the summit of the range the storm was expressing itself in yet grander terms. '' The Dpper Yosemite Fall was torn into gauzy strips and blown horizontally along the face of the cliff, leaving the ice-cone dry. * * * The peaks of the Merced Group appeared over the shoulder of the Half Dome, each waving a resplendent banner in 142 THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. H3 the blue sky, as regular in form and as firm and fine in texture as if made of silk. Fach banner was at first curved upward from the narrow point of attachment, then continued in long drawn-out lustrous sheets for a length of at least 3,000 feet, judging from the known height of the mountains and their distances apart. '' Eager to gain a general view, I pushed my wayr up through the snow by Indian Cation to a commanding ridge beyond the walls, about 8,000 feet in height, where the most glorious storm-view that I had ever beheld awaited me. Ever}' Alpine peak along the axis of the range, as far as the view extended, had its banner from 2,000 to 6,000 feet in length, streaming out horizontally, free and uncon- fused, slender at the point of attachment, then widening gradually as it extended from the peak until it was a thousand to fifteen hundred feet in breadth, each waving with a visible motion in the sun-glow, and clearly outlined on the dark-blue sky without a single cloud to mar their simple grandeur. '' The tremendous currents of the north wind were sweeping the northern curves of the mountain peaks, just as the glaciers they once nourished were swept clown, a supply of wind-driven, wind-ground, mealy, frosty snow being incessantly spouted upward over the peaks in a close, concentrated current, owing to the peculiar sculpture of their north sides. Thus, ever wasting, ever renewed, these glorious banners, a mile long, waved in the gale, constant in form, and apparently as definite and substantial as a silken streamer at a masthead." The freaks played byr a wind-storm in the Yosemite, and the curious displays of the physical force and performances of nature are marvelous in the extreme. On another occasion the same writer saw the whole column of the Dpper Yosemite Fall arrested in mid air by the violence of the gale, and held suspended for more than a minute, "resting in the arms of the storm-wind." Meanwhile the USUgJ volume of water poured down fro above, and the base of the aqueo|| tower, resting on its invisible flo0rS _ ™ ".viojuie tic kept widening and widening, until th weight of the superincumbent mass' overcame the atmospheric opposition then with a mm** <-i; 1 then with a grand display of water™ and spray,singing the loud, triumph! paean of accomplished victory 1 watp.i-fol1 .,*-J .1 -. - i tile waterfall continued its descent. It js only the residents in Yosemite that have the opportunity of seeing suchj rare and wonderful sights. Such sublime phenomena as this suspension of a waterfall and the snow ban-' ners of the Sierra peaks—sights only rarely seen—are supplemented with more permanent though far less imposing exhibitions. The visitor to the Yosemite during the winter season may be sure of seeing such beautiful sights as the ice-cone at the foot of the Dpper Yosemite Fall; the ice fringes that deck the sides of every waterfall; the frozen wreaths under Vernal Falls;! the gigantic icicles behind the Dadders the frozen Nevada Falls and all the thousand and one marvels 1 of frostwork and its prismatic coloring under the paint brush of the great 1 artist, Sol. The monster ice-cone above mentioned is a wonder in this great collection of wonderful productions of nature. Its height varies from 400 feet to 550 feet according to severity of the season and the favorable conditions that regulate its formation. Its construction is due to frozen spray which is deposited j on and becomes attached to the walls of the precipice on each side of the avalanche of water. These continued deposits sometimes attain the thickness of a foot in a single night. During the day, however, the heat of the sun loosens their hold, and the lajers of ice scale off the rocks and fall with crashing noise to the foot of the waterfall. As this continues day after day, the basement of the cone is laid andi the superstructure rises upon it, ever growing in height and widening at the base. Into the center of this the #ters I descend, hollowing it out with ing and roaring and boiling, pUl'g*"*o - — "ling UP around the summit of the S ue clouds of misty spra3r that float C ray and deck the atmosphere with lifting" ramk°w colorings. There 5 nloreover, other components of this I ' fabric. As the winter advances, .nUiiense icicles, some over 100 feet in ielloth, form glittering pendants near the" margins of the waterfall, and amorphous masses of ice cling to every available projection. Under the solvent touch of the sun's rays these ponderous bodies of crystallized water lose itlieir grip and fall with thundering crash to the base, where they split and splinter into pieces like massive glass- K,are. A vast congeries of blocks and slabs and bowlders and lumps of ice—• ati indescribable confusion of ice debris I—is thus heaped up and welded into a mass of frozen concrete by the ever- settling spray, which, permeating every crevice and vacant place, is soon congealed and becomes part and parcel of the whole. Darge openings at the base of this hollow cone allow the waters to escape after their struggles in the enormous tube. Mr. Muir once scaled the side of the cone, and holding [ his ear close down upon it listened K " while it sounded like a huge, bel- lowing, exploding drum." He was unable to reach the summit, owing to the falling ice from the walls and the choking drifts of spray. The same writer gives the size of the cone's mouth to be 100 feet by 200 feet, forming an irregular ellipse. The uneven thick-lipped orifice may be seen from the ledge above during gales of wind when the water is blown aside. Another beautiful sight is the display of icicles under the Dadders above Vernal Falls. Here, by some operation of Nature, an irregular cavernous hollow has been formed, and through the rifts and crevices of the roof, and clown the sides and edges of the overhanging rocks the water drips and trickles, the frosts of winter congeal jit, and icicles, here in united masses, there in single loneliness, keep grow ing downward and downward until their size becomes enormous. Some of them reach the hand-rail of the bridge, just beneath the rock, and connecting the two flights of steps, or the Dadders, as they are called, and attach themselves to it; thence they take a new start from a new support, and continue their downward growth. In places these icicles are so cemented together that they form compact sheets of ice which are fringed at their lower extremities with inverted fence-work of ice-spikes and javelins. Under the falls may be seen a collection of ice - wreaths and ice - veils that for their beauty and the delicacy of their fabric would well serve to deck the bridesmaids of the goddess of the North. The first falls of snow in the Sierras generally occur in November, but they do not come to stay they are but fleeting messengers, and having announced the approach of winter, are soon pat to flight by the lingering god of the tropics who still tries to maintain supremacy over his rival of the Arctic zone. But it is his final effort to keep back the legions from the north. By the end of December snow hides from sight all but the forms of the mountains, covering them with a vast winding sheet. Only the mighty trees toss from their wind- shaken branches the white deposit, which ofttimes with its unyielding weight snaps their great boughs. Owing to the retreat of the sun southward, and the immense height of the walls of the Yosemite, there is a considerable difference between the climate on the north and south side of the valley during the winter. While on the south wall the sun never shines during this season, and a chilling shadow is constantly cast over that portion of the valleys, the rays of the winter sun fall upon the surface of the northern elevation almost at right angles with its plane. As a consequence, the weather on that side is mellow and mild, and in sheltered nooks among the warm rocks flowers i44 THE YOSEMITE IN WINTER. are observed to bloom every month in the year. Nor is the frost severe even on the shaded side. Mr. Muir gives the average temperature for twenty- four clays in January at 9 A. M. and 3 p. m. as 320 Fah., the minimum being 220 and the maximum 400 5* above zero. This shadow-side is naturally in strong contrast with the bright, cheerful aspect during clear days of the northern part of the valley whither resort the few winter birds that make their home therein. These comprise the water-ouzel and the robin, woodpeckers and kingfishers, wrens and finches. There are also flocks of bluebirds and several species of clucks. From the time when winter sets in to the return of spring the forty or fifty residents of Yosemite may be regarded as voluntary prisoners therein. Communication with the outside world is closed to all but the hardiest mountaineers the stage lines are blockaded with snow, and casual visitors so seldom make their way into the valley, under the difficulties which Mr. Hutchings faced alone, that their arrival during the winter months is no more frequent than angels' visits. Once within the valley, however, none of the discomfort is found that may have been expected. Residence therein, without the summer sun and without the summer tourist rushing from scene to scene with hasty impetuosity and superficial observation, is no hardship. Good cheer and comfortable lodging greet you instead of heat and dust and rush with disquiet and excitement all around you, you find repose and a season for contemplation, while sublime views and glorious sights, not seen elsewhere, contribute their spectacular wonders for your entertainment. When to these great factors of human happiness are added pleasant company and intellectual conversation, the visitor will find that there is nothing to regret in a sojourn in the Yosemite during the winter. It is getting there that is the difficulty. Det us make the trip with m Allen Kelly, who paid the valley r' visit last winter, leaving Rayrn0,. February 28th. Riding to Grant' 1 Springs at the foot of Chowehijl mountain, a distance of twenty-fill miles, on the following day he ur, \ the stage road and reached Ferguson' ranch by way of Snow Creek. T/he,S ] he proceeded on a mountain trail 1 in company with Hiram Branson who carries the mail up the Merced River, for a distance of thirty nii]J ' TRUTH. H5 "Between Ferguson's and the south fork of the Merced is a high riJL that forms the westerly wall of Devfjl Gulch, one of the deepest, roughest J most inaccessible gorges of the Sierras' The road to Hite's Cove winds dowifl this ridge and from some of the turns I where the road is but a shelf on thj mountain side, one can look almost straight downward about 2,000 feed into the dark gorge where the grizzly's reign is undisputed and undisturbed by man." The trail down the mountain ends at Hite's Cove, and from the river bank abruptly begins to climb] the mountain, zigzaging over rocka and through low brush to a height of over 4,000 feet on to a ridge so narrow that "a horse cannot stand trans-] versely upon it." From the summit of this "hog's-back " Mr. Kelly could] seethe Merced's " foam-white ribbon of water" 2,500 feet below, and ii seemed as if he could toss a stone fromj each hand, one into the main river and! the other into its southern branch. The scenery was stupendous. When the trail strikes the bottom of the canon, it follows up the course of] the river along the line of the pro-j jected free road from Mariposa tS Yosemite. It was neither an easy uorj a safe task to cross the Merced. Haifa mile above Ward's place there is a ford.i but a dangerous one and too pregnant with disaster to be available in winter time. Just below it a wire cable has been stretched across the river and the venturesome traveler had to pull himself to the opposite side, hand over j hand, seated on a six-inch plank slung the Ible on trolleys. Then the driven across the ford and h"r:;'5s * ,aS within an ace of losing \[r- j 1\ which was nearly swept '' 'the impetuous current. away by along the trail they foiu V'y tinning along me uan uie CT bad and dangerous. Skirtin_ U" nth shelving ledges along the 1 '" of cliffs where a slip meant bl'",i to man and horse, and passing \-"\ gtorm-rent and weather-rifted 1 '" e cliff that overhangs the trail ! • fer threatens with a downpour "fVod'S and bowlders, they pursued fierwayfor twenty miles and then „ck the Cotilterville road just out- le the Yosemite grant; thence a good f'Un road led them into the valley, leaking of that overhanging cliff with its oft-repeated slides of granite lbs and disintegrated masses of rock, an old mountaineer said: "I don't want anybody to speak above a whisper in that place, because I think the ghost of an echo would start some of those loose rocks. I never crossed there yet without finding new rocks on the trail, and I don't think it would take much of a blast to bring that whole mountain side down into the Canon, dam the Merced River and make a lake of the Yosemite Valley." There was but little snow in the valley when they entered it, and they proceeded without difficulty but there are times when the mail-carrier is obliged to leave his horse near the entrance and continue his journey for eight or ten miles on snowshoes. But these spells of heavy weather do not last. In the valley the snow rarely lies deep for any length of time, except in isolated places that protect it from the licmefyingeffect of sun and weather. Few, very few, of the numerous visitors to Yosemite see it in all the phases of its thousand glories even in the summer time. The impressions carried away by most tourists are general and common to the majority. Following beaten tracks under similar conditions of season and weather, and under like circumstances of transportation and hurry, https://scholarlycommons.pacific.edu/jmb/1208/thumbnail.jpg