Meet Methuselah

Yes, tonight is Halloween. You were expecting me in a costume as a 969-year-old man? Sorry, this Methuselah is much older.

It was day two hiking the Eastern Sierras. Our 27th year wedding anniversary getaway. We had decided to explore the Sierras with Bishop, CA. as our home base.

Examining our map, Lori mentioned, “Here’s something we should see. It's the four-mile Methuselah Walk of the ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest near Big Pine, CA.” So we were up early the next morning, raring to go. With directions in hand.

Make your way to Big Pine, CA. on Route 395. Turn onto Route 168. Then wind your way slowly up-down, with hairpin switchbacks, and spectacular views with elevation gains from 3,980 feet to over 10,000 feet to the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Visitors Center.

Heed this warning - the map that says, plan on at least a one hour drive once you leave Route 395 at Big Pine don’t doubt it, it’s slow going.

My suggestion, plan ahead. The intrepid hiker will outfit themselves with a day-pack, layered clothing, gloves, a hat, hiking poles, water, and some snacks. When we arrived the temperature was a chilly 36 degrees.

The trail begins at the visitor center. The hike is a four-mile loop trail. Posted travel time is between 2-3 hours, it took us over four. The elevation change is 800 feet. Not just once but two to three times.

You will know when you meet a Bristlecone Pine. It’s unlike any tree you’ve ever seen or sniffed.

“Try it. Right here,” as I touched the smooth bare russet wood of the ancient Bristlecone Pine.

“This smells like Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey Whiskey, it’s like no other tree I’ve ever smelled. It’s an aromatic blend of pine, sweet honey, and wood.”

Lori just laughed, “I doubt Jack Daniel's would advertise their Whisky with the slogan,” Try our special blend, smells like a Bristlecone Pine.

Believe me when I say it’s worth the entire day to meet Methuselah. It’s a photographers paradise.

Be prepared to climb. The trail is very well maintained. Don’t slip, most of the time you’re walking along a ridge with drops of 500-1,000 feet.

However, once you reach identification post 16, (about two miles in) described in the trail brochure, you’ve surrounded yourself with hundreds, if not thousands of Ancient Bristlecone Pines.

The Bristlecone Pine is the longest-lived life form on Earth. According to our pamphlet, In 1957 Dr. Edward Schulman, searching for climate records in tree rings, increment bored a tree from this same grove. Upon counting the rings under a microscope back at camp, he nearly shouted at his colleague, “We’ve got a 4,000-plus tree.” It was later dated to be over 4,600 years old. Schulman named this tree Methuselah.

Oh, by the way, Methuselah is not identified on the map. It is unmarked for its protection. Finding the oldest tree really didn't matter anymore - they are all unique and spectacular.

Sorry Motor Home Window Gawking Enthusiasts this is not a roadside tourist attraction.

So, photographers, hikers, and trail enthusiasts do miss this unique opportunity to breathe in (sniff) the fresh clean mountain air of the Ancient Bristlecone Pines.

Have a safe and happy Halloween.

This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening, see you in the next episode.

Comments

Father’s Moonlit Walk

In this episode, Father’s Moonlit Walk . . . by: Patrick Ball The moonlit night, a silent scene, A tranquil hour, serene and keen. I sit alone, a cup held tight, Lost in the past, a fading light. November's chill–crisp, cold air, A gentle breeze, a solemn prayer. I think of Dad, a man of grace, A loving heart, and a smiling face. We’d wander the woods, a father's pride, A loyal hound, by our side— the forest's depths, a mystic sight, A starry sky, a beacon bright. Through fields of gold, we’d make our way, A rustic path, a golden ray. The hound would bay, a mournful sound, A treetop chase, on hallowed ground. A simple joy, a treasured sight, A father's love, a guiding light. A memory's warmth, a gentle hand, A timeless bond across the land. . . . Welcome back to On the Fly. This rambling was triggered by a fleeting thought while driving home from work the other night. The sun was setting over the Pacific Ocean as we drove South on the 5 Freeway, just entering the

Dawn's Embrace

In this episode - Dawn’s Embrace . . . In the quiet hours before dawn breaks, The darkness whispers, and my spirit wakes. For in my hands, tomorrow lies— A chance to reach, to strive, to rise. With steady focus, I find my way, Turning each task into light for the day. Not every path is smooth or clear, Yet I push forward, shedding fear. Life may bring disappointments, it's true. My dreams are mine, and I'll see them through. My attitude is my own to steer, and No One else shapes the hope I hold dear. So I start each morning with a heart alight, Embracing dawn’s gentle, hopeful sight. For love, for dreams, I’ll build and grow, Sharing this warmth with all I know. In each sunrise, I find the key— The dawn of hope that lives in me. . . . Welcome to this week's episode of On The Fly . The previous poem was written the day after the election results. Yes, we’ve made it through another presidential election cycle. Everyone at work was gloomy, angry, frustrated, and could not

Gobble, Gobble, Let’s All Trot

Oh, a Turkey Trot, a funny sight, A morning stroll, a pure delight. Six forty-five is the time to start, So let’s all run (walk) with all our hearts. While others Turkey hunt today a foolish plight, We’ll run and jog with pure delight. No need for guns, no need for gear, Just happy feet and holiday cheer. New York City is a bustling place, A different trot, a different pace. With Macy’s Parade, a colorful sight, The city’s bright a morning light. But here in Vista, we’ll run our own, A festive race, a joyful tone. So lace up shoes, and let’s all go, To run and walk, row by row. A Turkey Trot, a thankful sight, A perfect way to welcome daylight. Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you have a fantastic day filled with joy and togetherness! I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening, see you in the next episode.

The Man Behind the Fence

In this episode, The Man Behind the Fence . . . The crisp morning air invigorated me as I exited the Ford dealership. At 7:00 a.m., my service representative, Jim, assured me my truck would be ready in about two hours. With the sun shining brightly and the temperature a cool 49 degrees, I decided to stroll through the quaint Vista Village downtown area. The only signs of life away from the main street intersections were the ducks playing in the park's stream, service trucks tending to the area, and litter collectors. The peacefulness of the morning was interrupted only by the gentle hum of an occasional passing car. The aroma of freshly baked goods drifted through the air, drawing me to Danny's Donuts, founded in 1973. From the walk-up window, I ordered a cup of coffee and a blueberry cake donut, a classic combination that never fails to satisfy me. As I found a cozy spot in a slightly wobbly chair on the outdoor patio, a young man with a beard and cheerful yet somber demeanor

On The Fly

Search This Blog