June 1950

VOL. XXIX JUNE, 1950 NO. 6

Photo by Ralph Anderson—Tenaya Box Canyon and Pyweack Fall from Mt. Watkins. Only skilled rock-climbers should

attempt to traverse this rugged, trailless canyon in which persons have become lost and injured. Anyone considering the trip should first report to the Chief Ranger's Office. Cover Photo: Yosemite Valley. By Ansel Adams from "Yosemite and the Sierra Nevada, " text by John Muir, 64 photographs by Ansel Adams. Reproduction by kind permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.

THE MONTHLY PUBLICATION OF

THE Yosemite NATURALIST division AND

THE YOSEMITE NATURAL HISTORY ASSOCIATION, INC.

C. P. Russell, Superintendent D. E. McHenry, Park Naturalist H. C. Parker, Assoc. Park Naturalist N. B. Herkenham, Acting Asst. Park Naturalist

VOL. XXIX JUNE, 1950 NO. 6 THE BOX CANYON OF TENAYA GORGE

By Enid Michael Of all the gorges in the Sierra ranger-naturalist. On that occasion Nevada, the Tenaya box canyon is the naturalist had pointed out poison one of the wildest. A tremendous oak, but Jules has forgotten how it gash in the solid granite, with looks. After crossing Snow Creek Clouds Rest on one side and Mt. colonies of these shrubs begin to Watkins on the other, this narrow, appear along the way and Jules ragged gorge contains a series of spies them before I have time to waterfalls, intermediate rapids, and speak. Mr. Bill remarks that a shrub remarkable, deep pools. The entrance similar to poison oak also grows to the box canyon is about five miles along here, and that it is not above Mirror Lake. A surfaced trail poisonous. is found from Mirror Lake to Snow "The harmless shrub is called Creek, a distance of a mile. Beyond squaw bush (Rhus trilobata). Its Snow Creek there is no trail; the rather thick, firm leaves have three terrain is rugged—a boulder-strewn, regular leaflets, whilst the leaves of wooded area that slopes rather poison oak are thin, of deeper green, steeply up Tenaya Creek. The route and have three rather irregular leafover this area is indicated by rocky lets." cairns placed along the way. A Fresh green clumps of rigid woodrough, wild path this, leading over boulders, fallen timber and other fern (Aspidium rigidum var. argutum) irregularities. arouse our favorable notice. Late in the year when growing things asIn the old days I often used to sume a drab appearance one is retraverse this canyon with my husfreshed by the sight of this fern. The band, Charles, and a longing came sword fern (Polystichum munitum), a over me to go that way once more. plant of similar habit, also furnishes Two of my friends, Mr. Bill and Jules, cheer along this wild wood way. agreed to go with me. The date was Mr. Bill remarks that higher up the set for September 30, 1945. slope is another trail which he usualWe meet according to schedule ly takes, and that it leads through a at LeConte Memorial Lodge, and stand of king fern. The king ferns are after driving to Mirror Lake, start off brake ferns or bracken (Pteris for the box canyon. Jules remarks acuminata), a fern which shows apprethat he would like to see poison oak ciation of improved situations by in- (Rhus diversiloba). He recalls a trip creasing its size and splendor. Mr. taken once along this way with a Bill has given the handsome brack-

en the name of king fern. I remind I pause to watch Mr. Bill, who him that along this trail we reach a ascends alongside the waterfall. sandy flat covered with king ferns. Where the water has splashed the Before long this level area comes wall he almost slips into the pool. into view. Tall aspens and white firs This hazard avoided he successful cast a cool shade and in the rely finishes the climb. Meantime I freshing atmosphere mighty king follow Jules. Now above the water ferns flourish. As we traverse the fall we skirt a second delightful pour level area the ferns reach high and ascending a low wall of boulders! above our heads. We note the dried ders we reach the five-finger fern stalks of Sierra lilies (Lilium parviflorum) terrace. Water oozes between the that last spring held their orange ledges that make up the steep fern spotted flowers above the king ferns. terrace. Five-finger ferns (Adiantum I am a trifle in the rear of my two pedatum) flourish from the base companions and of a sudden a the top of the dripping terrace and I melodious song bursts upon my ear. the base clumps of grass of Pa, Soon I overtake Mr. Bill and it is he, nassus (Parnassia palustris var. cal, standing among the ferns, with head formica) bloom. In order to avoid the thrown back, who enlivens the quiet next waterfall barrier, we climb up atmosphere with melody. the slippery fern terrace. Once at the Presently we come up with Jules top of the fern terrace level ledge. and I remark to him that when I lead us for several hundred yards. heard the song I did not know which along the brink of the gorge. Along of my companions was the singer these sunny ledges California fuchsia and I asked him if sometimes he (Zauschneria californica) exhibit. sang. her bright red trumpet flowers. "Oftentimes when I am passing After our visit with California fuchsia along by running water, I find mywe again dip down to the stream, self singing, " he responds. at the base of another waterfall In season of high water Tenaya Looking about for a way up the Creek takes advantage of this level waterfall Mr. Bill chooses a black area to divide into many streams. slippery chute or tunnel alongside One of these, now a dry, boulderof the waterfall, and this he man strewn watercourse, reaches into the ages to wriggle up. With Mr. Bill fern garden. This we follow with the safely to the top of the fall Jules and certainty that it will lead us to the I cross the stream, and make use of entrance of the box canyon. At nine the "Spiral Staircase, " a series of o'clock we reach the entrance and winding upward ledges; at the top pass into the gorge, threading we find Mr. Bill sitting on a boulder through a thicket of bigleaf maples. in the middle of the stream eating Once through the narrow entrance an apple. We join him and he one follows the course of Tenaya shares his apple with me. Creek, skirting lovely pools and "What a delicious, juicy apple. making a way up huge boulders. Is it a Yosemite product? " Soon the first barrier confronts us : "Yes, I got a knapsack full of closing the gorge is a high wall, a them in the apple orchard near the shapely pool at its foot into which, Company warehouse." with graceful curve, drops a waterRefreshed by a rest in the sun fall. Over at the left, where the wall shine we follow on along the stream meets the cliff, Jules climbs up whilst till we reach an unusually large

Photo by Onas Ward. Tenaya Canyon from Glacier Point. The gorge and box canyon are beyond the farthest patch of forest here visible. pool which blocks further progress. To get by this and the wild portion of the gorge just beyond we retrace our steps a short distance and climb up the left wall alongside a bank of huckleberry oak (Quercus vacciniifolia). A short climb brings us to a level ledge which we follow. The ledge is irregular and in one place, quite narrow. Good handholds along here enable one to squeeze by. Before long we come to an inscription on the wall. Dates have been carved into the rock and then painted with indelible black paint. In all there are twenty-three dates the first date, 1909, the last, 1940. The initials along with these dates carved into the stone are S. L. F. When Charles and I used to come this way and first saw these initials and the dates, fewer then, we were mystified. It was some years before we discovered that the author was S. L. Foster of the overhead railways in San Francisco. He used to spend his vacation in the "Lost Valley" just beyond the Tenaya gorge. He would bring along a telescope basket filled with his supplies and stay two weeks. He liked to take sun baths, so in here, when the weather was nice, all he would wear was a belt. On that he would hang his knife, fishing tackle, and other utensils needed as he moved about. He would bring dried shrimps as his main article of diet. Then he brought lemons and made salad of white violet leaves and blossoms with a few drops of lemon juice. On one occasion Charles, Walter Fitzpatrick and I, when we had come through the box canyon to the Lost Valley, discovered Mr. Foster here. He saw us coming and, hastily retiring behind a tree, elaborated his attire. He was very cross at us for intruding upon what he considered his private retreat. A certain amount of cajoling, though, put him in good humor and he sat with us and drank tea. As we follow the ledge into Lost

Valley I recount the tale of S. L. F. ter get going. Accordingly we shoulto my companions. In Lost Valley der our knapsacks and climb to the the hedges of mountain ash (Sorbus top of Slide Fall, then follow the sitchensis) are in glorious berry, the stream and after this, branch off clusters of berries a deep orange into a draw that Jules has wished red, giving a brilliance to the scene to try for some years. This proves to difficult to describe. A small, be a hard, steep, long climb. Mr. rounded, level valley where the Bill grows tired and thirsty. In a trees grow very tall and great cliffs deep mossy recess I discover a trickle reach for the blue sky on either of water and, filling my cup, give hand, and a tranquil stream sings as it to Mr. Bill. This revives him and it moves along over polished granite, Tenaya Lost Valley seems like sight of Jules. After climbing the land of "heart's desire." while and no Jules in sight, Mr. Bill "Seems to me it must be lunch yodels for him. time," remarks Mr. Bill. No answering yodel, only a waving "Let's go on to the head of the ing in the huckleberry oak far below valley to eat lunch. I can't eat here low. After a space there comes in this 'brush," comments Jules. yodel, and down below I perceive the way Jules becomes much Jules join Mr. Bill. Jules seems to excited. "In this pool I saw a crowd have bumps on his forehead and of fish. I stood still and the shadow from the gestures I conclude the of my head and shoulders showed two ""charliehorses " attacked Jules in the water. The fish were curious while in the huckleberry oak and and one fish turned his head and caused him to fall over and bump looked at me with his green eyes." his head on a stone. Jules seems to At the head of Lost Valley, into be recovered now and the three a delightful, rounded pool, drops companions continue merrily on and Slide (Pyweack) Fall. Jules feels this up the draw. Jules reaches the top is a perfect place for lunch; Mr. Bill first and when Mr. Bill and I reach and I acquiesce. Accordingly we him he is building a monument out sit at the brink of the gracious pool of stones. When it is complete, we and enjoy a happy lunch hour. This write our names on a paper and pool has its crowd of trout. Mr. Bill Jules places it in a can, and place throws them crumbs of peanut butthe can down in the lower center of ter which they eat, and Jules catches the cairn. them a fly. Now at the top of the draw, as we "Do you ever fish? " I ask Jules. look about we are all of the opinion "At times when I need them for that the Snow Creek trail is far food. I was at Snow Creek ski cabin away. Domes, mountains, pinnacles and the food stored there had spoiled. are now our companions and we Then I fished for food. I think fishare far from home. Nevertheless, by ing is a poor sport. I enjoy much maneuvering about and climbing more seeing the fish alive in the over the slope of a mountain we do pools. Don't tell anybody about the at length step into the trail. On the fish in these pools, " remarks Jules. way over, though, Mr. Bill had his "It seems to me that these fish turn with "charliehorses. " In view are perfectly safe, for it's few folks of this last painful episode Jules said that will get in here, " I observe. that he would name the way that we Lunch over we decide we had bethad come "Charliehorse Pass."

YOSEMITE HONEYMOON

By Mae B. Nattkemper It was the Spring of 1912. My what were to be many adventures young husband had just completed into the mountains of our beloved his second year as Professor of West. Speech at the University of Southern In spite of their warnings and adCalifornia. It was just two years vice we felt sure we were amply since I had married him- -my colprepared blankets, food, extra lege sweetheart. We had not yet had cans of gasoline, and an extra tire our honeymoon. It had long since all filled the back of Fordy. We had been planned and often and enremoved the top to lighten the load thusiastically discussed, ever since of our 1912 Model T Ford, feeling we came to California from the Midsure it was only an extra and unwest those two years before and necessary weight to carry. Who ever caught our first glimpse of the High heard of summer rains in California Sierra. It was to be a Yosemite henanyway? And we must have as liteymoon and at last we could go. We tle as possible to carry up those had saved $630 from our meager grades we had heard about. salary enough, we figured, to buy True, we found no signs to guide a car and set forth on our advenour way but a friend who worked ture. on the railroad had told us there Upon the advice of our friend was a road of sorts following the Glenn Martin, who was then experiSouthern Pacific to Fresno upon menting with his first plane, using a which he had sometimes seen a car Ford engine, and who was driving bumping along. At Fresno we would a Ford car, we bought a little Ford turn off and head into the mounroadster. It cost us $600. We had tains. So we followed the railroad. $30 left. We were the richest, hapAt fifteen miles an hour, the speed piest youngsters in California. limit of that time, it was three days But when we told our plans to our before we got to Fresno. But they friends and relatives they were were happy days and not too aghast. They were emphatic in their bumpy. We had met about a dozen warning that we were entering into cars. We now turned toward the the impossible. Not only was our mountains and, alas!--big white $30 inadequate but motoring to Yosemite clouds. Both only thrilled us. Surely was unheard of. Did we not they couldn't mean rain, and how know that cars were not allowed in beautifully those fluffy masses lay the Valley? That the roads were just along the mountain tops. But by the awful beyond Los Angeles County? time we came to the steeper grades No road signs to direct us, no garthe road began to be muddy and it ages for gasoline or repairs, and was sprinkling. impassable mountain grades? But A little store then came into view they could not make us listen to at Coarsegold and we stopped to their fatherly advice nor cool our see if we could find something to ardor. Our spirits were undaunted. keep off the rain. The owner was We were going. asleep in his chair tilted back So on June 11, 1912, we set forth against the counter and frowned at on our honeymoon and the first of our disturbance of his nap. He said

he would see what he could find and without a thought of anxiety we parked brought forth a piece of table oilcloth. Without a thought of anxiety we parked Fordy under a big spreading pine cloth, barely enough to go around and next morning set forth afoot. We us. Just what we needed and weren't had gone but a little way when an we lucky! He told us we would need empty logging train came along and chains for our tires pretty soon. He stopped. We laughed and jumped had none but did have some strong on one of the big flatcars. It took us hemp rope that might do. We got it almost to Wawona before we knew and were merrily on our way when it. And then our memorable walk we came to a steep downgrade and began—that winding trail through skidded to the bottom. Then we corridors of pine and fir which led wound the rope around the tires us to new heights of ecstasy. Laughing and started upgrade. We couldn't find streams, cold and crystal clear, make it. Just then the sun came out tumbled across our path as though from behind a cloud and we said, inviting us to drink our fill. Quiet, "Oh, that's fine. We'll just wait a friendly deer grazed in flower-little while until the road dries. " The strewn meadows brilliant with color. sun and dry air did just that and Birds filled the air with sweet and we cranked up Fordy and rolled on. tender notes. Bushy-tailed squirrels As evening approached, however, ran across the trail playing together and we were higher up, it began to and scampering up and down the rain in earnest and we knew we trees. Even a bear waddled among would have to seek some kind of the dogwood. And O!—the views shelter under which to spread our across the canyons and mountain bedding for the night. An old saw tops. Could this be real? Surely we mill hove into sight. Soft, dry saw must be dreaming. dust was piled under a roof which "We can't make it tonight, I was large enough to cover both us guess," my husband said late in the and the car. Surely Lady Luck was afternoon. "But we haven't our bed following us right along. Our sleep rolls or any food, " said I. "Oh well, was undisturbed and peaceful. we won't worry, something will turn A bright, warm morning awakup, " he said. And then, just around ened us and we made Fish Camp a curve there came into view a little that day. It was a logging camp house. It was the stage drivers ' overthen. A small crude lodge and sevnight stop, we learned from the eral little houses made up the setwoman who answered our knock at tlement. A railroad went through the door. "Now sometimes they which carried logs from within the don't all get here and if one doesn't mountains. show up you may have his bed," Here we learned it was true automobiles could go no farther. We would have to leave Fordy. A stage coach would go through tomorrow. The fare? Too much for our purse and why ride anyway? Did John Muir ride through these mountains? We'll walk as he did. We'll send our suitcase on the stage but we 'll walk and won 't it be fun! So without a thought of anxiety we parked Fordy under a big spreading pine and next morning set forth afoot. We had gone but a little way when an empty logging train came along and stopped. We laughed and jumped on one of the big flatcars. It took us almost to Wawona before we knew it. And then our memorable walk began—that winding trail through corridors of pine and fir which led us to new heights of ecstasy. Laughing streams, cold and crystal clear, tumbled across our path as though inviting us to drink our fill. Quiet, friendly deer grazed in flower-strewn meadows brilliant with color. Birds filled the air with sweet and tender notes. Bushy-tailed squirrels ran across the trail playing together and scampering up and down the trees. Even a bear waddled among the dogwood. And O!—the views across the canyons and mountain tops. Could this be real? Surely we must be dreaming. "We can't make it tonight, I guess," my husband said late in the afternoon. "But we haven't our bed rolls or any food, " said I. "Oh well, we won't worry, something will turn up, " he said. And then, just around a curve there came into view a little house. It was the stage drivers ' over-night stop, we learned from the woman who answered our knock at the door. "Now sometimes they don't all get here and if one doesn't show up you may have his bed," she said. But if he does come? "Well, you can sleep in the barn on the hay I guess." Fine, how lucky we always were! The stage driver didn't come but the bedbugs did and we wished we were in the hay. At breakfast next morning three stage drivers were at the table and all seemed interested in our adventure. "You should go into the Valley

by way of Glacier Point," they told us. "That first glimpse of it from up there is a thriller, and the trail down past the falls is super." Then the driver next to me whispered— "You and your husband go on up the road and I'll pick you up pretty soon. I'm going up there with an empty stage. is a steep climb and you'll need a lift." We left rejoicing in our good fortune and soon the stage was there and we were up in it behind six beautiful horses rolling along those steep and picturesque grades until that indescribable view which only Yosemite can offer, burst upon us. Our kind driver showed us around, pointed out the trail to the valley floor, bade us goodbye and good luck, and wouldn't even accept the small tin we offered. We couldn't tear ourselves away. Surely we could afford one night at Glacier Point Hotel, a decision we were never to regret. So after a full and happy day we gathered around the big fireplace of the hotel that night with a crowd of other guests. "Why don't you read some of your. nature poems to these folks? They'd love them I know, " I said to my husband as we sat there. He timidly approached the landlord with this suggestion which was gladly accepted. He was urged to read on and on. Next morning when we went to pay our bill he was told he had more than paid it the night before with his entertaining and owed nothing. We started hilariously down that beautiful eleven-mile trail. We were really a part of these vast mountains now. We were theirs and they were ours. Nevada Fall has never seemed so alive, so musical, so splendid as it was that day when we wound our way around its rushing beauty. Vernal was at its best. The happy, sparkling Merced River. And deer roamed everywhere. We arrived at Camp Curry, not tired but actually refreshed, and were we hungry! That night we made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Curry. We felt as we still do, that we had met two people chosen by God to be the genial hosts to mountain lovers who came to enjoy the wonders of Yosemite. We were made to feel we were their dearest friends because we loved Nature, the mountains, God's great outdoors. I'm sure they made everyone feel the same. We learned that next evening Mr. Curry was beginning his evening programs in a new recreation hall just finished. Guests were asked to lend a hand if they had a talent.

Musicians there were aplenty. We and the rushing, gleaming waterfalls wondered if they would like my all held us spellbound. Now we husband's readings. He offered his knew, as never before, the real services and was heartily welcomed meaning of life, of our love for each to the program. At dinner next day, other, of God's great power. We had Mr. Curry announced to his guests found the real home of peace. We that Professor Nattkemper of the did not want to leave. University of Southern California But next morning, after a walk to would read the comedy "David GarMirror Lake, we decided to turn our rick" in the new hall that night. One faces toward Fish Camp and Fordy. of the young men at our table turned We went in to say goodbye to Mr. to his pal and said, "Wonder if he and Mrs. Curry and settle our bill. could be that old man with whiskers We owed them nothing. "But what we saw up there at Yosemite Falls do I owe you? " asked Mr. Curry of today. He's the only one around my husband. We were square. here I've seen who looks like a proWhen we had walked almost to fessor but he didn't look like he Wawona that day a stagecoach could read a comedy." That night came along. It was our friend who when my husband was performing had taken us to Glacier Point. He this fellow looked at me sitting near invited us to get in and we were at him and blushed. Prof. Nattkemper the hotel in time for dinner. Next was on the program every night morning we left after an early breakwhile we were there. fast and that day found our Ford, Ten busy, happy days followed, just as we had left it, under the big each one finding us on a new trail pine. We managed to drive to Marimaking new and wonderful discovposa Grove from there, although eries and filling us with awe at this the road was rough and precipitous, scenic splendor. Each night found where we spent two days marvelus stretched upon our comfortable ing at trees so big, so old and so beds at Camp Curry, tired to exhausbeautiful. tion I am sure, yet never willing to Now we left for home on an unadmit we needed rest. eventful trip, a bit sad at leaving Deeper and deeper we lay under our new-found mountain friends. But the spell of these majestic walls of we had each other and we had granite—El Capitan, Half Dome, $19.91 in our purse. We could go Cathedral Spires, and the Arches— again next year.

NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS

The 1950 Special Number of Yosemite Nature Notes will be an illustrated pamphlet dealing with the mammals of Yosemite National Park. It is planned for release within the next three months and will be sent without extra cost to all paid-up subscribers on the date of issue. If your subscription expires with the June or July number be sure to get your renewal in promptly in order to receive your copy of "Mammals of Yosemite. "—Ed.

Photo by Ralph Anderson. Ahwahnee Meadow and Half Dome.

Digitized by Yosemite Online Library Dan Anderson