Colorful Death Valley

     When I was told by a group from the Laguna Woods Village that they were organizing a tour to see the autumn foliage in the Death Valley, I wasn’t convinced that such a natural wonder even took place in the desert. I had seen beautifully colored trees on Seorak Mountain in Korea, the Austrian Alps, Algonquin Park in Canada, and the Yale University golf course, but I had never known that such a famous tourist attraction existed in our nearby vicinity.

   However, I was told that the fall colors are beautiful in the desert, by a former botanical professor in the village and that the normally green leaves of the various deciduous trees and shrubs in the desert turn to vibrant red and yellows for just a few weeks in the autumn. He explained that leaves are green because of the presence of a pigment known as chlorophyll in their cells during the growing season. In late summer, as daylight hours shorten and temperatures cool, the veins that carry fluids in and out of leaves gradually close up as a layer of special cork cells begins to form at the base of each leaf. As the cork layer thickens, the intake of water and minerals is reduced, causing the leaves to change color.

       In light of that information, I decided to join the tour.

      Our tour bus left Gate #3 of the Village around 9:00 one morning during the last week of October. As soon as we pulled out, our tour guide began her introduction on what we were about to see as we headed toward the autumn foliage in Death Valley. She told us that the beautiful yellow leaves we would see would be mainly on a species of tree called a cottonwood. We’d be visiting a number of lakes with colorful names such as Convict, Topaz, Mono, June, and Silver, where cottonwoods were the dominant type of tree. According to our guide, we wouldn’t be disappointed because the cottonwoods put on a spectacular color display in the fall.

     Cottonwoods were widely grown for timber along river wetlands or lake banks, where their exceptional growth rate provided a large crop of wood in just 10–30 years. The wood, coarse and of fairly low value, was used for pallet boxes, shipping crates, and for other purposes where a cheap but strong wood was required before plastic became readily available.

     I personally started my working career as an administrative officer at Korea’s Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry right after graduation from Korea University in 1961. As part of my duties, I helped Koreans plant millions of Italian poplars along the riverbanks by special order of General Park Chung-Hee, who had just come to power following a military coup. Koreans used poplar to make chopsticks, matches, and toothpicks.

  

Manzanar 

 

     After driving five hours on Highway 395 and a number of other roads, we finally reached Manzanar, our first stop, to see the most widely known of the ten camps where some 120,000 Japanese-Americans were incarcerated during World War II.  Manzanar (which means “apple orchard” in Spanish) is the best-preserved of the former camp sites.

     Long before the first group of Japanese-Americans arrived in March 1942, Manzanar was home to Native Americans, who lived in villages near several creeks in the area but abandoned the town by 1929 after the city of Los Angeles purchased the water rights to virtually the entire area. As different as those two groups were, their histories each featured a common thread—that of forced relocation. Since the last of the detainees left in 1945, former detainees and other concerned citizens have worked to preserve Manzanar as a National Historical Site for future generations. 

     Of the 120,000 people incarcerated under armed guard at Manzanar, two-thirds were American citizens. They had committed no crimes, there were no trials, and there were no convictions. They were simply political detainees, unjustly sentenced to what amounted to an American concentration camp.

After the camp closed, the site was returned to its original state.

     All the structures were removed, with the exception of two sentry posts at the entrance, the cemetery monuments, and the former Manzanar High School auditorium, which was purchased by Inyo County. The county then leased the auditorium to the Veterans of Foreign Wars, who used it as a meeting facility and community theater until 1951. After that, the building was used as a maintenance facility by the Inyo County Road Department.

     In the visitor’s center, we watched a video that showed former President Ronald Reagan officially proclaim that the 1942 government action had been wrong and declaring that every living detainee would be paid $20,000. As I watched, I wondered why the Japanese government didn’t do such a thing after the inhumane treatment of Korean women during that same war.

     The Manzanar site also retains several building foundations, portions of the water and sewer systems, the outline of the road grid, and the remains of landscaping constructed by detainees. The site also retains evidence of the ranches and the town of Manzanar, as well as artifacts from the days of the Owens Valley Paiute settlement.

 

 

Convict Lake

 

     I was deep in recalling childhood memories thought about World War II, which I still remember vividly, as we drove another hour from Manzanar to Convict Lake in the Sherwin Range of California’s Sierra Nevada. The lake is well known for its fishing and the dramatic mountains that surround it, including Mount Morrison. Its surface lies at an elevation of 7,850 ft. It was wonderfully picturesque to see the yellow cottonwood leaves and the rugged snow-covered mountains reflected in the water.

 

 

     The lake was named after an incident that took place September 23, 1871. A group of convicts escaped from prison in Carson City and a posse from Benton, led by Deputy Sheriff George Hightower, encountered them near the headwaters of what is now called Convict Creek. Posse member Robert Morrison, a Benton merchant and Wells Fargo agent, was killed in the ensuing battle. Mt. Morrison was named after him.

  

Topaz Lake 

 

     Topaz Lake is a reservoir located on the California-Nevada border, about seventy-five miles south of Reno. The lake was formed by diverting water from the West Walker River into a nearby basin that had previously contained a smaller natural lake. The initial construction took place in 1922. The levee and reservoir have been owned and operated by the Walker River Irrigation District ever since its construction.   

     Topaz Lake is popular for boaters, water skiers, campers, and fishermen. Fishing season runs from January 1 to September 30 and the lake is stocked with trout by both Nevada and California.     The lake is easily accessible from Highway 395. On the northwest shore of the lake is the Topaz lodge and casino, where we checked in for two nights. We rated the lodge at about three stars, which was fine, since the trip was organized to be fairly inexpensive.

     On our second day, we were scheduled to visit Alpine County, known as the Californian Alps, where an annual photography contest is held. We were also set to bathe in the Glover Hot Springs and to drive through Monitor Pass before returning to the lodge. However, there was a heavy snowfall overnight on Monitor Pass, so the itinerary was changed to include a drive to Lake Tahoe, about 100 miles north of the lodge.

     Just before we reached Carson City we stopped at Hunan, a Chinese restaurant, to enjoy a buffet lunch in the well-developed town of Gardnerville on Highway 395. Then we continued on to Lake Tahoe where, as a student of the University of Oregon, I had worked for three months in summer of 1967. 

 

Taylor Creek

 

 

     Taylor Creek is located on the south shore of beautiful Lake Tahoe. The Stream Profile Chamber, located a quarter mile down the Rainbow Trail, allows visitors an opportunity to study a diverted section of Taylor Creek through a panel of aquarium-like windows. It is a major attraction for local conservation and environmental education programs.  A 180-degree curved diorama illustrates life both above and below the water. That diorama features a mural displaying all the seasons at Taylor Creek.

 

 

Mono Lake

 

     Mono Lake is a large, shallow, saline soda lake in Mono County, California, formed at least 760,000 years ago as a terminal lake in a basin that had no outlet to the ocean, according to brochures in the visitor’s center. The lack of an outlet caused a high level of salt to accumulate in the lake, making the water quite alkaline.

 

 

     The lake has an unusually productive ecosystem based on the brine shrimp that thrive in its waters. It also provides critical nesting habitat for more than two million migratory birds that feed on the shrimp.

     Mono Lake is in a geologically active area at the north end of the Mono-Inyo Craters volcanic chain and is close to Long Valley Caldera. The most recent eruption occurred a mere 350 years ago.

      In 1941, the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power began diverting Mono Lake’s tributary streams 350 miles south to meet the growing water demands of the city. Deprived of its freshwater sources, the volume of Mono Lake was cut by half and its salinity doubled. Unable to adapt to such drastically changing conditions in such a short period of time, the ecosystem began to collapse. Islands that had previously contained important nesting sites became peninsulas that were vulnerable to predation by mammals and reptiles. Photosynthetic rates of algae, the base of the food chain, were reduced and the reproductive ability of the lake’s brine shrimp was impaired.

 

 

     Air quality also decreased as the exposed lake bed became the source of airborne particulate matter, violating the Clean Air Act. If something hadn’t been done, Mono Lake would have become a lifeless chemical sump.

     Appalled by that prospect, David Gaines formed the Mono Lake Committee in 1978 and began talking to conservation clubs, schools, service organizations, legislators, lawyers, and anyone else who would listen about the lake’s value. Under Gaines’s leadership, Mono Lake Committee membership grew to 20,000 and ultimately gained legal and legislative recognition for Mono Lake. Since its establishment, the committee has gained many victories in its fight to protect Mono Lake, with the help of the public and a coalition of government agencies and non-profit groups.

 

Tufa

 

     The unusual rock formations that grace Mono Lake’s shores are known as tufa. It is essentially common limestone, but what makes tufa uncommon is the way it forms.

 

 

     Typically, underwater springs rich in calcium mix with lake water rich in carbonates. As the calcium comes in contact with the carbonates, a chemical reaction occurs, resulting in calcium carbonate—also known as limestone.

     The calcium carbonate precipitates around the spring, and over the course of centuries, a tufa tower forms. Growing exclusively under water, some tufa towers grow to heights of more than thirty feet. The reason it’s possible to see so many tufa towers around Mono Lake today is because the lake level has fallen dramatically since 1941.

 

June Lake 

 

     June Lake is located on the other side of Highway 390 from the Mono Lake, at an elevation of 7654 feet. The majority of the developed community is spread narrowly along a five-mile stretch of California State Route 158 (which is also known either as June Lake Loop Road or Boulder Drive in the populated areas.)

 

 

     June Lake’s valley, often described as a horseshoe canyon, was formed by glacial action. The Rush Creek glacier split in two when it encountered the resistant rock of what is now known as Reversed Peak. The main glacier flowed to the north, creating Rush Creek Canyon. Another glacial branch turned south and east, but its flow was impeded and eventually stopped altogether as the granitic bedrock, since the southern branch created an uphill path toward the volcanic area of the Mono Craters.

     The community of June Lake retained its commercial vitality through the 1970s with the addition of a bank, hardware and paint store, welder, auto body repair, art and pottery galleries, and other businesses. Since that time, however, there has been a steady economic decline, spurred by the growth of the nearby town of Mammoth Lakes, which has drawn most commercial activity away from the outlying communities.

 

After the Tour

 

     I was so impressed by the natural wonder of the scenery and the disastrous damage to the area by human beings that I decided I would like to see the area again in a different season, especially the summer. The most attractive site for me was the June Lake Loop, where I’d like to camp and fish for the giant rainbow trout in the lake. However, I’ve been told that the huge trout are hard to catch since they’re old and cagey and that restocking of young trout has been curtailed almost entirely by California because the program is nearly bankrupt. Just another sad story about how human politics can damage the environment.

 

 

     In summer, I may also be able to cross Monitor Pass from Kings Canyon of the Sequoia Mountains. It may take weeks to explore the natural wonders, but what a wonderful part of the Earth we live in!