Be Careful of What You Ask For

Tim Riter September 9, 2024

Driving with Dad up Highway 395, along the imposing eastern face of the Sierra Nevada mountains, seeing their peaks piercing the sky, their almost plumb plummet from the crest to the valley floor, and exposed granite, intrigued me. Yeah, “God created it all,” but the how did more than puzzle—it astounded. Some decades later a good friend, Dick Markano, a UCLA geology grad, led a group from our church into the Sierra backcountry, and an unintended geology lesson emerged with my questioning. That tantalized me, and I yearned to take a night course on basic geology. Yet that desire was too far down the priority list to punch through into action.

Then, almost by chance...

Variety and Differences

Tim Riter January 17, 2022

On Thursday, toward the end of our group’s 2021 bike ride, Mick and I rode from Grass Valley in the west side of the Sierras to his daughter and son-in-law’s house in Susanville, on the east side. Friday was a family birthday celebration, so that day I took off on a solo ride north on Hwy 139 past Eagle Lake to Alturas and then south on Hwy 395 back to Susanville. That ride provided 135 miles of joy. I left the music off to focus on enjoying the scenery: majestic mountains and lush grassy meadows and high desert, good-sized lakes and dry creek beds. Ponderosa pines and aspen and cedar and pinon pines. Deer and cattle and eagles and hawks and juncos and who knows what else. I apologize for…

Patience Pays Off

Tim Riter November 1, 2021

Our Gray Hogs 2021 ride through the Sierras had an unusual end—Jerry realized he had to get home soon (he does this a lot) so he bailed early, and Brad damaged his Goldwing when he hit the back end of a minivan, and his son came over to drive him home in Long Beach. That left just Mick and me heading to see his daughter and son-in-law in Susanville for two nights before heading home ourselves. The first morning Mick suggested…

You Gave Us

Tim Riter October 25, 2021

Frankly, our natural world is degrading. Our biker group rode through the spine of California last June, the magnificent Sierra Nevada Mountains. I cried a lot. A natural and understandable reaction to seeing thousands of beautiful forests burned in just the last year. The pic above is just one example. And since our ride, two major holocausts, the Dixie and Caldor fires, and numerous smaller ones continued the devastation Much of that we humans have caused. But is it just…

Brushy Streams

Tim Riter January 18, 2021

In streams like this, I lost countless hooks by allowing the line to drift too freely, catching a lot of branches and roots, both under and above water. Hundreds of times wild roses attracted my line like a magnet, requiring the loss of precious trout time to untangle the bird’s nest. Hundreds of wild trout darted to safety when I trod too hard, or unknowingly let my shadow cross the creek, or when I let the bait land too hard on the water. And fisherfolk face…

The Fine Art of Doing Nothing

Tim Riter December 28, 2020

Back in May of 2020, COVID provided an unexpected opportunity. I had a week carved out to ride my bike to Estes Park CO and teach at a writing conference, then COVID cancelled it. So I subbed in a trip to my beloved Sierras to pull out some trout. I rediscovered why we call it fishing, not catching, because the catching was below mediocre. Maybe pathetic. And from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, it almost totally died. I grew sad…

Safe from Bears

Tim Riter December 14, 2020

Mom claimed I had been conceived in the Sierras, so I came by my love for them honestly. And in several decades of hiking and camping and fishing and driving through them, I never had any issues with bears. Until I did. Guys from our church camped in Gray’s Meadow outside Independence in 1990, and after chasing trout on other streams we came back to a campsite in chaos with missing items. The campground host came over, explaining that a bear had strolled in and…

Restoration

Tim Riter August 31, 2020

For several decades, Dad and I fished a lot of Sierra streams, and Oak Creek just north of Independence may top the list of favorites. The water flow remained consistent for spring to fall angling, and while they had developed campsites, you could camp anywhere on the stream—just be neat. I still remember landing my first big trout there as a mid-teen: 16” and a fat 1 ½ lbs. Then troubles afflicted Oak. Whirling disease hit in 1984, stopping all stocking of rainbow trout, but some good browns remained, and the trailhead continued to give good results. Then a 2007 fire incinerated all the trees and brush from the trailhead nearly to…

Unconventional

Old Faith, New Following