Trip Date: July 5, 2022
Find this SpotWe got this trip on the calendar some months ago and we spread the word far and wide. The boys being the popular active lot that we are, some of the gang we off elsewhere and/or otherwise occupied. Nonetheless, the 6 of us were excited to get off together and revisit Hart Hill. Steve came to my place about 7:00 am Tuesday morning, and with such a small load and almost no tools or materials, packing and loading my truck was quick and easy. We were on the road by about 7:30 and made great time up and over the Sierra’s.
A quick gas stop in Standish for a $92 fill up at $6.69 a gallon, and we were unlocking the gate at 11:30. The wild flowers were still strong and almost covered the road with yellow. The sage was still green and soft and the temps were hi 70’s/low 80’s. Steve was happy to be able to sleep in the trailer as we got to unpacking. I showed Steve the new hot water set up as we got the kitchen in order. He helped me set up the dual lines from the larger propane tank in the kitchen that would now feed both the hot water and the stove. He attached the lines and I drilled the holes through the cabinets and we had it set up in no time.
We were out checking out Bob’s cabin when Kevin and Daisy pulled up top. We would be it for the night as Ken, Vince, and Bob would arrive tomorrow. By the time Kevin got unloaded and had decided to sleep out in Bob’s cabin, it was close enough to cocktail hour. Steve had made his seafood sauce and was working on cooking the pasta. It was great to see him doing his thing in the kitchen again. He had some great tunes going and we were sipping away at our new Barbera. Kevin had a salad and a huge bag of shrimp to add to the pasta. It was a feast for the 3 of us. The evening passed into night and I was ready for bed bed. Steve and Kevin took a walk with the nighthawks before retiring.
That morning sun burned brightly through my East-facing glass door far too early for me, but Kevin and Steve were already up and adam. We had a good breakfast and lounged around for a while be3fore they started talking about getting prepared for their hike in the Warners. Kevin had thought about hiking into Patterson Lake, but decided not to push the entire way to the lake, but instead, enjoy a more leisurely pace. As it turned out, there was a ton of water along the trail and several small lakes for Daisy to paddle around in and cool/Rinse off. The wildflowers were spectacular and they had a great hike. I was happy that they got up into the high country a little bit and enjoyed some of the spectacular scenery and unspoiled places around here.
I on the other hand, was more than pleased top have a walk-about on the property. As much time as we have spent up here and as many times as we have traipsed up and down the road, there are plenty of areas of the property we have not even set foot on yet. Like last time when Mike and I walked along the Eastern fence line and met half way. This time, I was interested in the western slope of the hill, so I headed out past Bob’s cabin and set out to find the property center marker.
I hadn’t gone too far off the top of the hill before I made a wonderful discovery. I saw my first red wildflowers. We have tome of yellow, some white, purple, but I had yet to see any red.
This plant was taller and thinner than an Indian Paint brush, but the flower looked the same. Maybe it is a cousin or some type of variety. I called Kristen to tell her about it and as I was on the phone a cool Hawk floated above me and circled, perhaps a stone’s throw above my head. It may have only been the 2nd or 3rd time I have seen a sweet hawky really working the Hill. My trek was off to a great start. I spent some time among a really cool rock formation that is just above the center post. I left a bone and a beer can I had collected at the post for the next adventurer to reach this place.
From the midpoint marker, I dropped down the slope to the top of the diagonal fencing we had Dale run up the Hill for us. We didn’t want to put up/pay for new fencing all the way along the road, but we needed to enclose/tie off the gate, so we just had him run the fence diagonally up the hill into the rocks. It would be pretty far for a stupid cow to go and hard for them to cross over the rocks, and it would be impossible for a rig to get around, so we figured it was a good alternative to another quarter mile of fence up to the northern boundary. From the fence I side hilled north, covering lots of new ground for me. Once near the NW corner, I knew there was another rock formation I wanted to check out, so I headed up to see it. It was a great resting/hiding spot and I imagined ambushing passersby from this advantageous position.
A little higher up was a huge flat, and a tremendous rock pile. These were still the same black volcanic rock that was up top, but they were huge uplifted plates, collars, and walls like above. These seemed more like bubbling blisters that made it to the surface and then cooled and dried. They were individual boulders like you see in the Sierra’s, Alabama Hills, Joshua Tree, of the canyons of San Diego, but they were individual mounds nonetheless. Between the masses was a bush or small tree that II had not seen before. It looked like a fruit tree and even had the leaf curl that is common with fruits. I was fascinated by how much of this shrub there was and intrigued at the thought of having some sort of feed/animal feed on the property.
Around the front/North side, along Termo/Grasshopper road, I crossed over the pavement and headed out West Side Rd. I was intrigued to see the road that the surveyors went out as the first bearing they took for the survey. This road was just past the cattle guard and I stopped to look and see if I could spot Bob’s cabin. I could not with my shitty eyes, but I could clearly see the roof in the binocs. I headed further out the road to the big curve and as I was walking, a car came up behind me. For the first time since I have been up here, I was not friendly and made no effort to make contact. Maybe because I was walking and more vulnerable, but I didn’t turn around or slow, simply moved to the shoulder to let them pass with as little dust as possible.
Nonetheless, the car slowed and stopped. I looked in the open window to see an old large lady breathing oxygen through her cannula. I had seen her before getting mail at the boxes on Termo-Grasshopper road and 395. She asked if I was lost and I responded “not yet”, and with that she was off. I sort of regretted not introducing myself and chatting her up, but with Cowboy Dale gone, and nothing established with Tim and Cindy, I didn’t feel it would come to much anyway. So off she went. Maybe another time.
Down at the curve, I stopped again to look back at the cabin. Nothing visible by eyeball, but now the binocs picked out the entire cabin. I assume the glare off the giant glass window will make it visible at certain times of the day, but I was satisfied at how we positioned and oriented the cabin to minimize exposure. I headed back down West Side Rd. to cross back over the pavement and get back on the property. There is a small strand of land between Termo-Grasshopper Rd. and our property line, which contains perhaps the wettest spot near us. It was bone dry now, but had real nice tall grass growing thick on it. I walked through it and started gaining elevation side slope again towards the Eastern boundary.
I passed through more of the taller Indian Paint and continued to gain elevation crossing over onto our property. The flagging from the survey no longer exists, but I remember walking the line with Mike with compass and tape. Now I was trying to line up the NE corner post with the end of the Eastern fencing which ends at the half way point, leaving a quarter mile gap in the fence line. I don’t imagine ever having to fence this in as the cows have not advanced on the Hill via this gap in the past. In fact, this year, there aren’t many cows around at all.
As Mike was leaving from his last trip, we drove to the NE corner post and tried to imagine where the line was. Without fence or flagging in either direction from the corner, it was difficult to establish a ballpark line. He guessed an old random wooden fence post and I was estimating much higher on the slope, a much further Westerly line. I wanted to get a better idea now, so I headed on up the slope, basically splitting the difference between the 2 guesses. Because of the topography, I soon lost sight of the corner post, and basically set off to find the Eastern midpoint marker. It was way below, East of my estimate. I walked a line extending out from the fencing from the SE corner to the Eastern midpoint, and kept on it until I could again approximate the NE corner marker.
Fortunately, there is a small hill across the road from our NE corner marker that has a few trees on it, making it easy to mark the approximate location of the corner. Now with the binoculars, I could make out the corner post, and the old wooden post in between. It does not line up exactly, but it is pretty darn close. I remember when I walked the Eastern boundary and met Mike out along the line that I was amazed at how far East the property went, so I should not have been surprised again, but I was. We own much more of the hill than I thought. It was cool to connect the dots and also to have a sense of basically having the entire hill on our property.
Heading up the East side, I noticed another wildflower I had not seen before. It was a single stock, not leaves, about a foot tall with a Trillium like flower. I think it may be a Lilly, all in 3’s; 3 flower petals, 3 small leaflets, purple with some yellow interior. It was another great gift from the Hill. It wasn’t much further up the slope before I made out the outhouse roof, and I was back. I felt like I was in an entirely different space this whole walk. It is so cool the property is big enough to really feel in a different place when you are on opposite sides of it. I barely got a beverage and a sammich when I heard a rig pulling up top. Bob had arrived
I was tuckered out from my exploring so I let Bob come up to the kitchen to greet him. We caught up a bit and had a celebratory beverage before he headed out to his cabin. I finished lunch and went out to give him a hand unloading. Before long, we were patching in the last sections of the shear wall and marveling at our progress. We had all but one sliver along the West wall to cover, when Kevin and Steve returned from their adventure. We had already done more than he expected so we knocked off and met the boys at the kitchen to hear of their exploits. It was not long before Ken and Vince pulled up as well, and the crew was complete.
Vince had asked me about sleeping in the trailer because his back was still sore from his Fall over a year ago. I could only offer him the couch as Steve was in the bedroom. He happily accepted and moved his gear into the trailer with Steve. Ken set his tent up under the tree Mike L. first settled I believe. Kevin moved his stuff from Bob’s cabin and set up under his Juniper tree along the road. It was nearly cocktail hour and the boys gathered in the kitchen, not specifically to watch the shower show, but to observe it nonetheless. I still have not gotten over what a huge treat it is to have hot running water in the kitchen and to eb able to enjoy a hot shower at the end of a good day.
It wasn’t long before Vinny had his tunes going (not as mellow as Steve’s) and was heating up the corned beef and fixins he had prepared at home. It was an enormous quantity of food, plenty to feed all of us. I had almost finished my bottle of our Barbera last night and I soon needed to find and acquiesce (or was it appropriate) Steve’s bottle. It was flowing. I gathered the boys out on the tip top of the Hill, beyond the cocktail lounge and we set up shop for a drink. I announced Haley’s pregnancy and there was much rejoicing. The clouds, sky, shadows, lighting was all magical and we wallowed in the late afternoon glow. Before long, Vinny announced grub was ready.
At some point the wine was gone, and we were drinking a lovely bottle of Rombauer Zin that Vinny brought up. We started a great fire as it finally became night time, cooled down to chilly, and became dark. After that, it was Wild Turkey 101 for the sledgehammer that eventually sent me to bed. Fortunately, I drank a lot of water during the night (and pretty much all the time now) and didn’t carry on for the all too commonly too long, and I awoke in pretty darn good shape. It was again preposterously early, but other than Vinny, I was the last one up. These guys are nuts! The boys were soaking in coffee and breakfast bits, and soaking in the fresh clean air. Steve and Kevin were heading home.
We had initially hoped to come up for 3 nights, but stuff happens. Bob went with his mom to a Dr’s appointment, Ken had to put one of his stray cats down, and Steve and Kevin had to get back, otherwise I had hoped we could all get up to Blue Lake for a day. It was fine though, as it really wasn’t warm enough to desire a swim, it was just perfect in the4 shade with some periodic direct sunshine mixed in. I was trying not to wish it was hotter to alter our destiny and head to the lake, because I was also really looking forward to the days excursion. As today was barn deconstruction day.
On a previous trip up the Hill, Bob unexpectedly went a different route, and as if guided by someone, decided to drive down the road through the open gate to 2 massive barns. He had no idea, but perhaps a premonition that this massive piece of property had just sold, the new ranch manager just happened to be at the property and the barns just happened to be scheduled for demolition, and the guy was totally open to Bob gathering some of the siding for his cabin build up on the Hill. Bob must sleep on a bed of 4 leaf clovers. Bob is often the guy to spot the wildlife off in the distance, find the perfect arrowhead, stumble upon the Big Horn sheep head, or find the cool fossil. His luck struck big time again.
Bob had been in touch with Ritchie on an doff and had set this day up as the time for us to go a gatherin. These were probably the closest old wooden barns to the property and they just happened to have about 120’ of 1x10x8 pine boards inside protected from the elements that was exactly what Bob had wanted. We met Ritchie at the barns. He was in full cowpoke regalia, with hat, plaid short, furry vest, jeans, chaps, boots, and a big wide leather belt and buckle. He had his horse in the trailer and was going to be riding across 139 up in the hills all day. He turned us loose in the barn and went on about his business. I did take the occasion to ask him about Fence Dale and after a bit he said he knew of him, which I was glad to make the contact.
As we pulled up to the barn, we were greeted by the hundreds of swallows Ritchie had warned us about. I was glad to have my hat. After surveying our booty, it was better than expected, and Bob was super excited to get it into his possession. He quickly realized he forgot a ladder so we had to improvise by pulling the rigs up alongside the siding so he could pull the top nails while I pulled the middle nails. We gave thanks many times that whoever put these up, used a minimum amount of nails, although they were easily the biggest “nails” I had ever seen and bordered on the spike size. Once the top and middle nails were pulled, I would pry them from the framing and work the bottom nails out and bring them to the tailgate where Bob would pull any remaining nails from the boards and stack them in the bed. We raged.
Bob guessed the barn was about 100 years old. All the lumber was true dimension, meaning these 1x10x8’s were exactly that, and a 2×4 was actually 2’x4’, not the 1.5’ x 3.5” “2×4” you buy now. There were dozens of 20’ 2×6 and massive 20+’ 6×6 all clear, tight grain straight as an arrow pine. It was incredible just to be in the barn let alone all alone/without a bunch of other people, and to just pick at these boards and admire the swallows and the history and the setting. It was too much.
At one point, Bob noticed an antelope about 100’ away by a gate. As he stepped away from the gate, we saw it was a coyote. We watched each other for a bit and got back to work. The next time we looked up, he was only about 50’ away, out in the open, and seemingly wanting to come closer. He looked good, small, perhaps young, but not at all scared and very interested in what we were up to (or maybe it was Bob’s sammich). We took a little break after we had one side done, and then hit our groove and had the other side down in no time. The quality of the wood, the ease at which they came off, the lush green grass all around, the copious amount of water in the meadow, and all this history; it was extraordinary.
On one of the dozens of treks back and forth inside and out of the barn, a huge thud and cloud of dust rose up right in front of me. I immediately stopped walking and stood still trying to figure out what had just happened. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts and for the dust to settle, when I realized one of the swallow nests had let go of the roof and come down at my feet. The impact was substantial, and although nothing but dust remained, I realized that the mud nests are probably more substantial than they appear from down below. It was a trip to be here when that happened and also very fortunate I had not taken another step, as I was already as dusty as I cared to be.
Bob checked in with Ritchie about the availability of hardware, hinges, handles, latches, etc., and Ritchie confirmed it was all up for grabs. This put a little hitch in our giddy-up and I caught a second wind, or maybe it was after I got pooped on by a swallow. We got the sawzall out and began gathering anything that looked interesting. Bob was convinced that all these fittings and hardware had been forged on site or nearly as it was heavy duty iron, but it was quite soft and cut easily. We gathered up our treasures and drove out of the enclosure into a much larger cross-fenced pasture. Closing the gate behind us, we decided to walk the fence line in search of more treasures and just being on site a little longer.
Coming back to the rigs, we decided to take a peek at the other larger barn that Ritchie intended to use for the Fall round-up. Looking inside, I assume it is the fenced corrals and stock gates, and loading shoots that they will use rather than the actual barn. The massive doors had disconnected from the hinges and walls and a piece of heavy duty metal wire fencing was holding them at about a 70 degree angle from falling down. Inside was filthy and littered with empty feed bags and salt bags. This barn had not been used as a barn in years, but it may have been even older than the smaller one we had been working in. This barn had actual tree poles as the main upright supports, not even milled lumber. It may have just been because of the sheer size of these posts, but it gave the barn an even older feel.
We poked around and discovered a few loose boards; 2 – 20’ 2 x 16, and the top of a feed trough that had been warm smooth and round from the cows. Along with a few more pieces of hardware, we were like kids in a toy store, all giddy with our bounty of booty. We were super dusty from the fine ground cow and swallow poop we had been working in and the dirt and dust we dumped on ourselves when we gathered the boards that had probably been in place for over a century. We were sore, tired, hungry, thirsty, and filthy, and the rigs were riddled with poop, but we were happy as hell.
While we had been working in the bar, Caltrans had been working on 139 and had set up a traffic control section, in the middle of which, the property road came out onto 139. Since we were past the construction, we just drove out onto 139 and headed home. As we approached the other flagman who was holding up traffic from his end, he put up his hand as if to say hello, or perhaps asking that we stop. Not really wanting to stop, I assumed he was being friendly and didn’t slow down as one would do to stop. He waved his hand more energetically which I took to mean he actually w3anted me to stop, so I came to quite a sudden halt. I could tell he wasn’t too pleased with me so I prepared for the tongue lashing about public safety and the lead car and traffic control “101”.
Instead, he asked if we knew the owners of the ranch. I said I didn’t, but the guy behind me knew the ranch hand. That was good enough for him so I moved forward a bit, but waited to see how their conversation went. Later I learned from Bob that a calf had squeezed through the fence and onto the road and the Caltrans guys had to shoo shoo it back into the pasture. He just wanted to let someone know. With that, we were off, back to camp. Ken and Vinny greeted us warmly like a couple of sweet housewives would their hard working husbands. Bob and I showered a spectacular shower washing away layers of dust and dirt. Have I mentioned how great it is to have hot running water?
Soon it was cocktail time and with all the wine gone, I had to prepare myself mentally and spiritually for the whiskey. Bob had brought up a bottle of Bulleit, and of course, there was the 101. I was not physically prepared though as I had not brought any mix with me, but fortunately, Mike had the cupboard stocked with Cokes. I would have been very disappointed to come up here and not BBQ, so I was very happy when Ken said he brought pork chops and Vinny had a piece of Salmon to cook, so I got the old Brinkman fired up and Kenny got to work on the chops while Vince prepared the Risotto with asparagus. I sliced up a homegrown organic cucumber and marinated it in some Italian dressing Bob brought. It was good while it lasted before Vinny knocked it off the counter. Oops.
Vinny gave the Salmon a light grilling and added it to the Risotto and finished it off with some finely grated melted cheese. Other worldly. Vinny regaled us with stories of his folks’ restaurant in Woodland and their trips to Reno and Tahoe to gamble and party. The gummies made another appearance and soon the boys were floating off down the road for an evening walk. The last light of day was intensely beautiful. Back at the kitchen, Vinny dialed in the Giants game, but even though Crawford tied it with a dribbler into right in the top of the 9th, I had to retire. They lost in the 10th, miserable bastards!
I again felt better than expected in the morning and was up earlier than mankind should be. Bob and Ken were already yakking away. Ken and Vince eventually headed out and Bob did a few things on his cabin. I went down to the bone yard to inventory the pieces of metal roofing, but in so doing, cleaned up the plywood pile, and straightened up here and there. Bob brought down the few small pieces of left over OSB from his cabin and he was ready to roll. I put up the curtains in my cabin, closed and locked up the trailer, loaded up the truck, and then took a nice warm shower. I took apart the shower and loaded the last few things into the truck, and it was over. Another fantastic trip up to the Hill, made especially sweet by being able to share it with the boys. Here’s to more adventures!
Hart Hill w the Boys Photo Gallery
