Squaw Creek
I hope everyone out there has a happy 4th of July. Unfortunately, Mel and I weren't able to make it to balloon rides this morning; the 5 a.m. wake-up call was just a little to much to ask. So we slept in instead, and then drove up to the mountains to do a little hiking. I had been worried about running into massive crowds around Truckee or the lake (being jostled and mauled by crowds is a huge pet peeve of mine), but the number of people visiting Truckee was actually significantly smaller than what you'd find on an average Saturday when the weather is nice.
I had been planning on taking Melissa up to a nice overlook of Lake Tahoe, but at the last moment I changed my mind and decided we should hike up Squaw Creek
instead. It was a good decision, as the creek was uncrowded and flowing high. Melissa (being the smart one) was wise to bring the camera, as we had abolutely perfect weather, plus, as you can see, she looks really good in her hiking clothes ;-). Squaw Creek is one of dozens, maybe hundreds of little creeks of various sizes that rise and fall with the seasons, spilling out of the Sierra down to the dry valleys below. It was so beautiful, Melissa was actually somewhat surprised to find out that it is a natural creek, not something of man-made design. Lots of people who's only experience of mountain wilderness is Thunder Mountain at Disneyland are often surprised to find that such places actually exist outside of amusment parks. This seems especially prevolent among people from back east. I was such a person when I came out to Denver from Alabama in the Summer of '94. I was amazed at the sheer opulance that nature had on displ
ay in the Rocky Mountains, and the Sierra are no different. The picture at the left is one of me standing above a nameless waterfall along Squaw Creek (click on the picture itself to see an enlarged version; you might be able to pick me out better). In Alabama, or pretty much any state back east, such a beautiful spot would be depicted on T-shirts and postcards, and at least a whole state park would probably be built around it. But here in the mountains of the west it's just another nameless miracle, something that few people will ever see or know of.
I had been planning on taking Melissa up to a nice overlook of Lake Tahoe, but at the last moment I changed my mind and decided we should hike up Squaw Creek
instead. It was a good decision, as the creek was uncrowded and flowing high. Melissa (being the smart one) was wise to bring the camera, as we had abolutely perfect weather, plus, as you can see, she looks really good in her hiking clothes ;-). Squaw Creek is one of dozens, maybe hundreds of little creeks of various sizes that rise and fall with the seasons, spilling out of the Sierra down to the dry valleys below. It was so beautiful, Melissa was actually somewhat surprised to find out that it is a natural creek, not something of man-made design. Lots of people who's only experience of mountain wilderness is Thunder Mountain at Disneyland are often surprised to find that such places actually exist outside of amusment parks. This seems especially prevolent among people from back east. I was such a person when I came out to Denver from Alabama in the Summer of '94. I was amazed at the sheer opulance that nature had on displ
ay in the Rocky Mountains, and the Sierra are no different. The picture at the left is one of me standing above a nameless waterfall along Squaw Creek (click on the picture itself to see an enlarged version; you might be able to pick me out better). In Alabama, or pretty much any state back east, such a beautiful spot would be depicted on T-shirts and postcards, and at least a whole state park would probably be built around it. But here in the mountains of the west it's just another nameless miracle, something that few people will ever see or know of.
posted by Yukon Sully | 5:07 PM
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