It’s just another day; it’s just another night. Tomorrow is just another day. The big event is changing the calendar … just like 12 times before – every 30 days or so.
I guess the best times to celebrate were maybe the 10 years between 16 and 26. Seems it was fun then … but what was fun then is not so much fun now.
Maybe it’s because my peers I’d party with are not of that age anymore either. Maybe it’s because my peers of long ago have scattered to the wind. Maybe it’s because my peers of today are a different sort of person.
Maybe it’s the change in society. Maybe it’s become such an over-commercialized “have-to” event.
I miss the times but not the after-effects. I don’t see the “fun” anymore.
I’m going to bed at the normal time; I’ll wake up tomorrow at the normal time.
And the best thing I can say for January 1, 2026 is I won’t receive bills in the mail. And I have things to do.
The winter of 81/82 set a few records in the Donner Pass region (and elsewhere as well). Nothing like being out in the middle of a record.
In the Tahoe Sierra, that coastal downpour translated into a major blizzard in the higher elevations where more than 10 feet of snow incapacitated New Year’s holiday travelers around Lake Tahoe and set new snowfall records. It is still considered one of the most intense weather systems to ever strike the San Francisco Bay Area in terms of damage and casualties.
The unprecedented squall quickly surged into the Sierra where arctic air infiltrated the storm track and snow levels plummeted below 1,500 feet. In the mountains, temperatures first fell into the single digits and then plunged to well below zero. Blizzard conditions plagued Lake Tahoe where gusty winds whipped the crystalline snowflakes into near zero visibility. It was a stark contrast from the year before when Donner Pass had only 8 inches of snow on the same date.
Snow accumulations increased into the 10- to 13-foot range. More than 100 avalanches were set intentionally at resorts and along mountain highways that weekend by ski patrollers using control guns and hand-thrown dynamite charges. Westbound Interstate-80 was shut down due to whiteout conditions and an 18-car pileup near Donner Summit. Highway 50 closed due to avalanche hazards, as did Mount Rose Highway. Snow slides also blocked the main road into Olympic Valley and on Highway 89 north of Tahoe City at Big Chief and Alpine Meadows Road.
As I recall, Norden had over 800″ of snow that season
Once upon a time when I was young(er) and still indestructible, a group of us from Reno – 2 couples and three single guys (well, 5 guys but two brought their girlfriends along) – decided to spend New Years snowshoeing up into the back country up above Donner Pass. New Years was on a weekend that year. We parked somewhere near Norden, then still an active railroad town (on the original Transcontinental Route); it’s not like we left the vehicles in the boonies.
Norden sits at 6900 feet. We were going higher; we were getting higher.
I forget where we were headed; a rescue shed someplace. Looking at a modern map, I still can’t be sure but somewhere around what’s now labeled “Lola’s Lookout” seems about right. A bit over two miles as the crow flies.
Seems easy enough. So let’s do it on snowshoes in heavy snow and along a semi-marked trail … when many of the markers are buried in snow. And a storm coming in. No one does this in winter …
We equipped ourselves and put on snowshoes before we hit the snow. It was only going to be a couple of miles to the cabin where we would spend the night.
putting snowshoes on is easier when not in deep snow
The day started sunny. We headed across Summit Valley and across the Yuba River following a road. The road was under that snow someplace but the bridge across the river was easily detected.
Then it’s off we go, trudging across the tundra, mile after mile, into the high Sierra.
A pleasant little hike through the woods …
Up the hill, down the dale
snowshoes. deep snow. on a slope
headed up to those trees mid-photo
And the skies darkened. And a few were getting tired.
easier going in this open meadow
We needed to follow that stretch between the hillside and trees.
Avalanche? What avalanche? But we did spread out.
Almost there
circle around to the ridge on the right, then along the ridgeline to the left
At the top. Taking a break. Not too far from our destination. Something around 8000 feet.
I can’t find the photo but of the two story rescue shed with loft, we had to dig down to what would be the escape hatch on the 3rd story. Likely close to 20 foot of snow here.
We all got crawled in and settled in for a fine dinner.
It snowed some more that night. It got a might chilly. All right – it was friggin cold out.
Our overnight journey turned into 3 days but there was no problem getting back and it was a weekend. Except it was on snowshoes in fresh deeper snow.
And I had run out of film.
Another day might have been a problem.
But all in all, a good time. Plenty of firewood, a good time to be a couple, even if only for the night. For the two couples that were with us.
As I’ve said before and undoubtedly will say again:
“An adventure is something you don’t want to be doing at the time you’re doing it – but makes for great memories.“
Even bad photos are better than no photos for stirring up memories. And memories are sometimes enough; never did anything like that again.
what the hell were we doing cutting across an avalanche slope during extreme avalanche weather???
I suppose I’ve let you all know that one of my primary outdoor activities is checking out old mining camps (to say nothing of searching for minerals. I’m an expert on leaverite ore … I have quite a collection).
Red Mountain Town is one of many old mining camps in the area roughly defined within a region bounded by Telluride, Ouray, Silverton, and Lake City. The town sits at just shy of 11,000 feet but not too far off modern US550 roughly midway between Silverton and Ouray on the north side of Red Mountain Pass.
This is the tailings pile of National Belle Mine circa 2010.
Tailings of the National Belle mine. The railroad ran both along the base of the pile and along the top My photo
Gold miners settled in the area in the 1870s but it was the silver discoveries in the 1880s that led to the formation of the significant town of Red Mountain Town. There was also a “Red Mountain City” close by but it faded away as Red Mountain Town grew, being closer to the mines and situated on better land.
Otto Mears opened “The Million Dollar” toll road between Red Mountain Pass and Ouray in 1883, the same year the RMT post office opened. Otto Mears also brought the railroad into town in 1888, taking ore to the smelters in Silverton. By 1890, the town reportedly had a peak population of 10,000 and over 100 buildings including a telephone office, a couple of newspapers, a schoolhouse, saloons, more saloons, cathouses, and an escape-proof jail. The town did not have a church until later in the town’s life.
When working the National Belle mine in the late ’80s, a huge cavern was discovered filled with large pockets of gold and silver. The rush was on.
1891
1890
1891
One of three major towns (also Guston and Ironton) served by the Otto Mears’ toll road and the Silverton Railroad to carry ore to the smelters in Silverton, the town burned down in 1892, the day after the church which had been rejected by Red Mountain Town opened in Guston. Starting in the hotel, all buildings along Main St were destroyed; only the RR depot and jail survived.
The town was rebuilt but the demonetization of silver in 1893 resulted in the closure of the National Belle. Another fire in 1895 pretty much finished the town – by 1896, only 40 people lived there. Only 12 by 1899.
1896
Over $30M (1890s prices) of gold, silver, copper, zinc, and lead came from the mines in the area.
National Belle Mine – 1938
The town was once the largest of the Red Mountain mining region, reaching a peak population of around 10,000 (as some claim) in the late 1800s but few buildings remain today, most significantly the jail. Ruins of the major mine, the National Belle are shown in the upper photo as they appeared when I last visited in 2010.
The townsite is relatively accessible along county roads but 4wd is generally recommended for anything more than the well-travelled routes.
US550 Information Sign
The jail ruins are at 37.90433251415818, -107.70322831935269
I’ve spent a fair amount of time wandering around these hills. God willin’ and the crik don’t rise, I’ll be blessed to spend more.
A sample of some obscure – and maybe not obscure – tunes from my strange and off-the-wall collection.
Today’s selection: Alan Parsons Project – “Gold Bug” 1980
“The Gold Bug” was off Alan Parsons Project’s album “Turn Of A Friendly Card” released in 1980. Alan Parsons himself provides the whistling.
The Alan Parsons Project consisted of Alan Parsons and Eric Woolfson. An English collaboration formed in 1975, their first album was “Tales of Mystery and Imagination“, based on Edgar Allan Poe’s work as was “Gold Bug“. “Turn Of A Friendly Card” was their 5th album (of 11 total). “I Robot” was their most successful album; “Friendly Card” was 2nd most
It’s not often I suggest an outside article but this estimated-40-minute-read article by David Stockman is worthy of your time and contemplation. I dislike live links on the main page so replace “dot” with a period to reach the article.
“The Great War Was the Great Error” brownstone dot org/articles/the-great-war-was-the-great-error/
Woodrow Wilson was likely the worst president of the 20th century; his actions led to the others.
Watching the Mourning doves in the yard walking around, their heads constantly bobbing back and forth as they are in motion only stopping when they stop moving. How can they see, plainly, while their heads are bobbing?
Triangulation. Simple geometry.
When the head is in the forward position they snap a picture, then a microsecond later when the head is in the rear position they take another pik. Instantly, their brain compares the 2 images and gives them the info they need.
Distance, height, color, etc. And much more. Their eyebals do not rotate in the sockets, the position of each is fixed, and from different sides of their heads. It can get complicated. To you. To them it is the only life they ever knew. From the day they are born.
To you it may seem a handicap, to them it just is. Imagine flying, through the branches and trees of a forest with eyes like that. They do it well. You, though, would crash and burn instantly.
You think your eyes see continuously while moving them around in their sockets but they do not. They are like a movie camera in that they take many pictures per second and stitch them together in your brain and make you think it is one continuous movie. Movie cameras take pictures rated at number of frames per second. Old skool TV was about 60 frames per second, and if, while viewing, you turned your head quickly from side to side you could catch a glimpse of this reality. Newer TV have a much higher frame rate.
While reading this, if you stop and focus on each letter in each word you will notice that in each position your eye is focused on you will only be able to see a few letters and the rest will sort of blur out. Then, seemingly fluidly, you will move your eyes to the next “group” of letters, that were formerly blurred and they will now be in focus and the previous letters will be blurred. There is no continuous focus. You can see this more clearly at night, with clear night vision.**
With each advancement of your seeing eyes they are doing what the doves eyes do. Sending a signal to your brain that then stitches all of the stops into a seemingly continuous movement. What your eyeball does while rotating in the socket is what takes the Mourning Dove an entire head movement to do.
Fascinating, no?
**If, in darkness, you look directly at something at a distance, it will seem to be in an unfocused cloud. This is because of a blind spot on the rear of the eye where the retina cord connects. (there is a technical term for this but it eludes me at the moment) Therefore, if you want to look at a thing in the dark you need to avert your focus a little to one side or the other. In a way, your peripheral vision is better than your direct vision.
She’s not friendly and you’d best be advised to keep your distance. Those horns are not for looks … and that udder is not for you.
Someplace in the deserts near Bluff, Utah.
This is all “open range”. Many, many square miles of open range. The owner may only see his cattle twice a year.
Closed range is fenced in; open range is not.
The important difference for us’ens? If you hit livestock on the road in closed range territory, it’s the rancher’s fault; if you hit livestock on the road in open range, it’s your fault.
Back east, our family farm raised cattle. Other farms nearby raised cattle. Out this way, ranchers raise cattle. Rough definition: A farm is cows per acre; a ranch is acres per cow.
Not for sure but I’d guess the boundary between “farm” and “ranch” is the “dry line” at roughly the 100th Meridian – roughly a N-S line passing through Cozad, NE, Dodge City, KS, and Abilene, TX; close to following US283.
Both my grandfathers were raised on farms. Both got out of that business as soon as they were old enough. Granted, they were raised before tractors were in use and staring at the south end of a north-bound mule all day tends to give you time to think of alternative lifestyles.
