Paradise Valley and Beyond

The Ranger was giving us the wilderness lecture. You know the deal. Stuff like how you gotta pee 100ft away from water, dig the poo-poo hole six inches deep, pack out the toilet paper, put all your food and other smelly stuff in bear canisters, have no fires above 10,000ft, and how you gotta throw the smallest child at the bear in order to buy yourself some time for escape. The Ranger was very methodical in her explanations. She got out the map, pointed here, here, and there, highlighting things, writing things down, pointing out where the ranger stations were and whatnot. She would talk, talk, talk, and we would nod, nod, nod. Her tired brown eyes indicated that she had probably been standing there all day long. But with her sleeves rolled up past the elbows and her chipper attitude and great posture and deeply tanned face, it looked like she actually enjoyed waking up every morning and being a Ranger and dealing with people and wearing that iconic Smokey Bear Ranger Hat. The wind was low and the breeze was light and there was hardly anyone hiking down the trail at Road's End in Kings Canyon National Park. Some other Ranger came by with a gigantic box full of chips and stuff. He'd found it. Someone had left it. Or lost it. Bummer if they lost it. Some sorry sap was probably waiting all day to pig out on some Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos. And now they couldn't. Makes me cry just thinkin' about it. 

With our permits in hand we tried to find a place to stay for the night. All of the camps in the Canyon were full. Completely full. Smoke from campfires and barbecues filled the air, the ambient sounds of casual conversations and parents yelling at their kids echoed off the canyon walls. It was not quiet. There was probably a zillion people or so down in that Canyon. We'd have to try our luck elsewhere.

We bought some dinner at the the lodge, or store, or whatever you call it. The pulled pork sandwiches were pretty good but the grilled cheese weren't nothin' to write home about. The NPC workin' behind the counter told us that it was an "Adult Grilled Cheese" (whatever that means) made with "three delectable cheeses" served on a "multigrain bun." Microwaved American Cheese on slightly toasted Wonder Bread is what came out.  For some snacks and dessert we purchased some Pop Tarts, Dippin' Dots, candy bars, Kind Bars, Cliff Bars, and a greasy bag of Combo's Pizza Filled Disgusting Plastic Pretzel Bites. Always a good sign when you look at the backside of the bag and it says CONTAINS BIOENGINEERED FOOD INGREDIENTS. What can I say. They were delicious!

After driving around for a bit we finally managed to find a place to stay. The Convict Flat Campground. It's where the inmates who built the road down into Kings Canyon stayed when they were building the road down into Kings Canyon. They got payed a dollar a day, worked in terrible conditions resulting in several attempted escapes and two deaths, and all that's left of their hardship and misery is a little sign with a few paragraphs and pictures. 

Sunset from Convict Flat

The campground was dead quiet. It was full, all five sites. The towering granite cliffs of the canyon rose above the horizon to the North, bathed in the purple glow of twilight. The pale orange orb of the setting sun could be seen to the West, throwing its last spears of light upon the skeleton trees on the top of the canyon walls. The song "Fire" by KIDS SEE GHOSTS kept repeating through my head for some reason. Lookin' up at the cliffs, watchin' the sun going down, I guess it was just the soundtrack of the moment. 

We set up our tents and prepared for the hike in the morning. I strung up my hammock between two gargantuan California Bay Trees. You hear a lot of things sleepin' outside in the open. Bugs creepin', deer steppin', squirrels jumpin'. The guy to our left had on a radio of sorts, like a police scanner or something like that. It was on all night. Every once in awhile he would get out and smoke or hack up a loogie or use the bathroom or just sit there, staring into the trees. I went up and used the pit toilet after he did. It didn't smell like feces in there. It smelled like cigarettes and old man. 

Road's End

It was cold the next morning. Somewhere in the low 30's. We packed up our stuff, got in the cars, drove out to Road's End and began our adventure. The first two miles were incredibly pleasant. One side of the canyon was dark, the other illuminated by the brilliant early morning light. Only a few people were on the trail, mostly day hikers. At the junction we were treated to tall trees, shade, ferns and silence. Except for the river. The sound of the river to our right was ever present, a sonorous roar bouncing across the forest. The roar became louder and louder, eventually reaching a crescendo in the form of our first stop: Mist Falls.

Mist Falls

Mist Falls wasn't mistin' too much on account of the below average rainfall that graced the Sierra Nevada this past winter, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Occasionally, when staring out at the crystal clear water, I'd catch a glimpse of some tiny little water particles floating in the air, irradiated by the sun. Little mini rainbows, poppin' up here and there over the river, our faces becoming damp, our clothing moist. It was a good spot. 

After Mist Falls were some wonderful switchbacks, most of them in the sun. Up and up and up we went, takin' our time, climbin' up over one large stone step to the next. Couldn't have picked a better day to hike up those things. It was about 70 degrees, with a mild amount of humidity and an ever present breeze. I remembered how horrible it was last year, climbin' up these things in 90 degree weather with a muggy atmosphere and no breeze in the smoke. It sucked.

Up the Switchbacks

After we conquered the switchbacks and a few hundred meters of additional trail we took a nice long lunch break just below Paradise Valley. The water was cold, ice cold, cold enough to where it feels like a quadrillion needles are pricklin' your feet every time you stick them in the water. But once you take 'em outta that cold, cold water the numbness becomes something soothing like, and you sit there on the rocks eatin' your jerky and peanut M&M's and whatnot and you look up at the cliffs and back down at the water and then you lay on your back and put the hat over your head and take a nap listenin' to the ever-present sound of the river and everything is fine and dandy.

Lunch Spot

Lower Paradise Valley was quite the sight. I can say from personal experience that this little chunk of land is aptly named for what it is. It's like a mini King's Canyon, only higher in elevation and with more isolation, no roads, hardly any people, aspens, ferns, meadows and gnarly granite cliffs. It's a worthy destination if you're up for it. Paradise indeed.  

We spent the night at Middle Paradise. It's called Middle Paradise because it's halfway between Upper Paradise and Lower Paradise. Who would've known? We practically had the entire place to ourselves, save for a few groups who showed up around 7:00pm. Chicken Quesadillas were on the menu that night. We ate, we cleaned up, we relaxed, we chatted, we batted away the mosquitos. At some point or other a healthy lookin' cinnamon bear trudged its way through the woods, skirting the outside of the designated camping areas. It looked over at us. It looked away. It scratched up some bark and then carried on its marry way. It came back too, sometime around 2:00am. I know this because I heard its heavy padded footsteps just a few yards away from my hammock. Good times, good times.

Middle Paradise

The next day we packed up our things, gobbled down the breakkie, and continued our saunter through the divine. The tranquil morning air gave a rush to the mind, the tall trees and ferns and dark brown soil on the ground sucked away the remaining sounds, sights and smells of civilization. Each step we took brought us further and further away from anything we had known before, transporting us somewhere in between the here and the now. We were there, walking in a line, observing the whole scene go down; the rising sun, the ever-rushing river, the bees on the flowers, the wind pushing the aspen trees from side to side, the ants in formation, the deer in the meadows. It was an utterly serene scene. Some of the most beautiful country I have ever laid eyes upon. 

Leaving Middle Paradise

On our way to Upper Paradise we ran into a few interesting characters. There was a man and his fiancée headin' down the trail, back towards Road's End. He was bearded; had one of those faces that looked like it wouldn't flinch if you threw a stick at it. Said that they were headin' back down because the missus here had a bout of altitude sickness. The missus took over the conversation at this point, describing how she couldn't eat or sleep, how she had a headache and nausea for six hours straight. They had to head back down. She didn't look to good; the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow were springin' up on her cheeks and chin. 

But they were happy to be there. The man said that it was worth the trip and that Paradise Valley was the most scenic of the country that they had traversed through. He mentioned that it's all "Fins and Domes, Fins and Domes and Cliffs."

"Oh look, another dome!" he said, "Oh look, another cliff! But Each one is different...each one is unique." He was smiling under that beard, the missus was smiling too. We nodded and wished them a safe hike back. 

About a half hour later a rugged old dude with circular spectacles and a bald head and disgusting chin beard appeared on the trail. Said he had been doin' the PCT but had to leave because of altitude sickness. Wow. Another victim. Maybe it was a sign or something. 

We entered Upper Paradise. We took a break, saw the ol' washed out bridge. We crossed the frigid water, and then watched other groups cross the frigid water because it was entertaining. From there the trail became a little odd—took us through the woods in random twists and turns—but we followed it nonetheless. Turns out we crossed the river at the wrong section and missed the main trail, but no matter: the goofy trail that we were on dumped us back on track anyways. 

After that, we trekked on for a few more miles, leaving Paradise Valley. We gained enough elevation to where we could see everything that we had done so far. We were slowly approaching the alpine regions, you know, those regions where the trees become gnarled and scraggly and whatnot. Our original goal was to do the entire Rae Lakes Loop, but this was not a realistic goal since not a single one of us was prepared to hike in elevation. We went as far as we decided was necessary, then turned around. No biggie. No problemo. Everything that we had seen so far had been absolutely incredible. If we kept on going we would've seen more of the same beauty, just at a higher elevation is all. In addition, just that very mornin', I awoke with a horrible gut feeling that didn't go away until we turned around. You know, one of those gut feelings that burns a hole in your stomach and then creeps up into your lungs and just never goes away. Perhaps it was warnin' me about somethin'...perhaps it was best we turned around...

Headin' back into Paradise

We set up camp in Upper Paradise. There were a few people there. Some were settin' up camp, some were breakin' camp down, and others were just passin' through. It was a peaceful scene, just sittin' there in the shade watchin' these people go about their lives in this stunning wilderness. We dunked in the river, we got out of the river. We explored a bit, started a campfire. Near dusk the smell of smoke drifted through this small section of the valley. Other groups had their own fires, their own hammocks. We heard them talkin' and laughin' and such. Everything was alright up there. The people, the deer, the bears creepin' around the camp, the trout in the river, the ants and their larvae underneath the rocks, the scent of the vanilla bark on the trees drifting with the wind—everything was alright up there. Whoever named this place "Paradise" sure knew what they were doing! 

I decided to climb up a few boulders, you know, the kind of boulders that would make your mother worry if she saw you climbin' up them. I maneuvered my way up these boulders to get a view of the whole valley. I wanted to see the whole dang thing, wanted to see were I was in relation to the whole thing. I got to the top, turned around, and just sat there for a few minutes, taking it all in. Sometimes when you turn around and look at something you just gotta sit there for a few minutes and take it all in, kinda like how that weird guy campin' next to us in Convict Flat would just sit and stare into the trees and take them all in. 

Its a simple thing , really. You just sit and stare and take it all in. Everything. The valley, the river, the trees in the valley, the trees hangin' precariously on the cliffs for dear life (how did they get into such a position in the first place?). You look at the massive granite walls and the spires and the domes and the drop-offs and the little plumes of smoke from the handful of campfires down in the shadows...and you hear the ambient voices of people down in the shadows...and you begin to wonder what's going on down there in the shadows...and you see yourself sittin' on the rock starin' at the whole thing, and you kinda lose yourself for a few minutes 'cause the whole dang valley is just so overwhelming it just sucks you right in. And then you blink and you wake up and you say "well ain't that a pretty scene" and take one more quick look and maybe a picture or two and then you head on back down for dinner. 

Paradise Valley

The next day went by pretty quick. We got up at around 8:00am, left around 9:00am. There wasn't any rush. It was the longest day of the year, June 21st, so we weren't too worried about it gettin' dark anytime soon. Plus it was all downhill. Our progress was swift, our minds and bodies ready for some ice cream. 

Mist Falls

We got back, put our things away. We drove to the lodge or store or whatever you call it, bought some ice cream and a bag of honey bbq fritos. Once our bellies were satisfied we skirted on out of there, driving up and up out of the canyon, past Convict Flat,  out into the forest, out of the mountains, down into the foothills, down into the Central Valley. We drove through the orange orchards, through sleepy little farming towns. Debussy and Liszt and Chopin and Eric Christian provided the soundtrack for the moment. We arrived in Visalia. We checked into the Best Western. It smelled like bleach and weed. We got into the pool. It was warm. We got into the hot tub. It was cold. There were things floating in both bodies of water, there were cockroaches scurrying about. But it was all good. Much better sleepin' there in that hotel on a mattress than in the woods. 

The next day there was a freak lightning storm. Forecast didn't pick it up.  High winds, lots of rain, lots of lightning. There was a good amount of snow way up in the mountains, the mountains that we were supposed to be hiking through. Good thing we didn't keep going. That would've been very interesting. Always trust the gut you know? Always trust the gut!

Good Trip