Lone Pine is such a charm. Many years ago, we stayed here on our way to Death Valley. It’s an original Western small town, full of character.
Here is the gateway to Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the contiguous United States. It’s also the entry way to the Alabama Hills, Hollywood’s favorite shooting place for Western (and other) movies. This is my favorite place, those huge boulders randomly piled up and spread out; it’s like an ancient battle formation. A piece of work coming from God’s view! While driving by, we saw a historical marker for the 1872 earthquake victim’s gravesites. Can you imagine, Lone Pine was hit at 2:30 am by 7.9 earthquake 150 years ago? Most of the town was wiped out. This little marker proves there were people here once, and this is all that is left.
Those high Alpine lakes are like gems hidden in the deep Sierra. Many years ago on our first trip here we bought bread from Erick Schat’s Bakery, then discovered June Lake Loop and enjoyed the best bread at a lakeside picnic table. Maybe it’s the view that makes the taste so unforgettable. Now it’s prime summer, the sun hits the water, a glittering turquoise color circled by lush green summer mountains, it’s the treasure of the Sierra.
Standing halfway towards Mt. Whitney I am enjoying a birds-eye view of the vast Owens Valley, just wind whistling by my ear. Wind is like sound insulation, makes the world down below muted. The world could be this quiet?! There’s no time or agenda here: a mountain doesn’t need a watch, it grows at its own time; a river doesn’t need a map, it just finds its way. Wind travels from the valley, coming and going of its own free will, bringing the strong sage scent. This is the scent of the Sierra.
