San Luis Obispo hit a record low last night at 31 degrees, but this morning the flowers weren't shriveled. "I think the humidity and the short duration of the cold snap protected them," said Andy. "It probably turns coldest just before sunrise, and then warms quickly the instant the sun comes up."
Frost covered the fields as we headed east through Santa Margarita at 8:15 a.m. "They were in the low 20's here last night," said Andy. "No tempering ocean this far inland." The frost sparkled on range grass as the sun climbed a little higher. Around one bend, seven wild female turkeys darted across the road in front of us. Lucky ducks, I thought. Around another bend, children played in six inches of snow at one house. Adults in small groups of twos and three watched the "Christmas at Thanksgiving" fun. I wondered if the family had won a "let it snow" contest.
Carrizo National Monument, a 3,000 acre prehistoric lake bed, protects more rare and endangered vertebrates, like the giant kangaroo rat and the San Joaquin kit fox, than any other place in California. Dry now, the alkali lake is home to migratory birds in the spring.
With no natural outlet, the water from rain and runoff of the Temblor Mountains evaporates, leaving sodium sulfate and carbonate salts. We climbed to Soda Lake Overlook and walked out to the lake to follow the 816-foot boardwalk. A meadowlark called out, the zippers on my pouch jingled with each step, and our heels clicked on the plastic boardwalk, made of recycled milk jugs. Those were the only sounds in the place of solitude and loneliness. "This is one of the sites that Bill Clinton protected in the final day or two of his administration," said Andy. "The San Andreas Fault runs through this valley."
Bushwhacking on a dirt road took us to Wallace Creek Trail. Andy rolled Little Red along the washboard in second gear.
"I know the sign described a trail to the San Andreas Fault here," he kept insisting. "Seven Mile Road to Elkhorn Road."
"Seven Mile Road was dirt too," I reminded him. But sure enough, eleven miles later, a pullout with one interpretive sign explained how the San Andreas Fault moves the land in this area. In 3,800 years Wallace Creek has shifted about a football field. We stood on the north bank. "If you stay here for ten million years," I told Andy, "you will be within walking distance of the Golden Gate Bridge."
Frost covered the fields as we headed east through Santa Margarita at 8:15 a.m. "They were in the low 20's here last night," said Andy. "No tempering ocean this far inland." The frost sparkled on range grass as the sun climbed a little higher. Around one bend, seven wild female turkeys darted across the road in front of us. Lucky ducks, I thought. Around another bend, children played in six inches of snow at one house. Adults in small groups of twos and three watched the "Christmas at Thanksgiving" fun. I wondered if the family had won a "let it snow" contest.
Carrizo National Monument, a 3,000 acre prehistoric lake bed, protects more rare and endangered vertebrates, like the giant kangaroo rat and the San Joaquin kit fox, than any other place in California. Dry now, the alkali lake is home to migratory birds in the spring.With no natural outlet, the water from rain and runoff of the Temblor Mountains evaporates, leaving sodium sulfate and carbonate salts. We climbed to Soda Lake Overlook and walked out to the lake to follow the 816-foot boardwalk. A meadowlark called out, the zippers on my pouch jingled with each step, and our heels clicked on the plastic boardwalk, made of recycled milk jugs. Those were the only sounds in the place of solitude and loneliness. "This is one of the sites that Bill Clinton protected in the final day or two of his administration," said Andy. "The San Andreas Fault runs through this valley."
Bushwhacking on a dirt road took us to Wallace Creek Trail. Andy rolled Little Red along the washboard in second gear.
"I know the sign described a trail to the San Andreas Fault here," he kept insisting. "Seven Mile Road to Elkhorn Road."
"Seven Mile Road was dirt too," I reminded him. But sure enough, eleven miles later, a pullout with one interpretive sign explained how the San Andreas Fault moves the land in this area. In 3,800 years Wallace Creek has shifted about a football field. We stood on the north bank. "If you stay here for ten million years," I told Andy, "you will be within walking distance of the Golden Gate Bridge."
"Thanks," he said. We climbed up the ridge and followed the trail to where the Fault disappeared onto the hill.
"Look!" yelled Andy, "I'm going north and south at the same time." Thank goodness he wasn't. But what God forsaken country! The shifting of the San Andreas certainly won't do any damage here.
Oil pumps stood silent around McKittrich. A brown haze clung to the mountains and filled the valley. Then over one hill we spotted a helicopter with a large black object suspended. "It looks like a cow," said Andy, "but who would spend that on one cow? It's probably something to do with oil production." Over another hill we saw pilings from a mine. Desolate, bleak, treeless plain opened before us. "My gut feeling is that the brown cloud is an inversion," said Andy. "If not, the air pollution is terrible."
Oil pumps stood silent around McKittrich. A brown haze clung to the mountains and filled the valley. Then over one hill we spotted a helicopter with a large black object suspended. "It looks like a cow," said Andy, "but who would spend that on one cow? It's probably something to do with oil production." Over another hill we saw pilings from a mine. Desolate, bleak, treeless plain opened before us. "My gut feeling is that the brown cloud is an inversion," said Andy. "If not, the air pollution is terrible."
We crossed a California aqueduct and the desolation immediately disappeared. Field after field of fruit trees and plowed earth lined both sides of the road. "This is Central Valley," said Andy, "probably the most productive in the country, and it's those mountains we just went over that protect it." Route #58 passed orange groves, the bright fruit still on a few trees by the road, and cotton fields; white residue clung to the weeds and littered the ground.
At the Bakersfield holiday lots, decorated with red, green and white flags, Hispanic workers unloaded evergreen trees.
Kern River Parkway Park in Bakersfield featured the last bronze sculpture of world renowned artist Victor Salmones, Cancer--There's Hope. It has been said that Salmones, born in Mexico City, 1937-1989, "captured emotion in motion." The positive vibes felt good.
Kern River Parkway Park in Bakersfield featured the last bronze sculpture of world renowned artist Victor Salmones, Cancer--There's Hope. It has been said that Salmones, born in Mexico City, 1937-1989, "captured emotion in motion." The positive vibes felt good.
Brown haze hid the mountains in the distance. "It could be a lot of stuff," said Andy, "There's a refinery over there, plowed fields outside of town, fertilizer, lots of cars in a city of more than 330,000 people, oil wells and industry, a weather inversion, any and all of the above."
"But it's the first we have seen of such overriding air pollution," I told him.
No comments:
Post a Comment