Trip to Mary Austin's 'Land of Little Rain'

  “If ever you come beyond the borders as far as the town that lies in a hill dimple at the foot of Kearsarge, never leave it until you have knocked at the door of the brown house under the willow tree at the end of the village street, and there you shall have such news of the land, of its trails and what is astir in them, as one lover of it can give to another.”— Mary Austin, The Land of Little Rain

  It’s easy to see how the Owens Valley area inspired writer Mary Austin. Bordered to the west by the craggy peaks of the Sierra Nevada range and majestic Mount Whitney, it is a land of great beauty.

  When Austin lived in the area at the end of the 19th century, Owens Lake hadn’t yet been drained to provide water to the city of Los Angeles and the area hadn’t become as dry and dusty as it is today.

  Austin spent 18 years in the small town of Independence, which is a pleasant, tree-lined community that is also the seat of Inyo County. It was during her time in Independence that she became interested in the western landscape and began writing about it.

  She arrived in the Owens Valley after her husband, Stafford Wallace Austin, was hired by the U.S. General Land Office in the 1890s. Austin soon became fascinated by Eastern California’s people and environment, and began spending considerable time listening and observing.

  Filling notebooks with stories, Austin practiced her art, eventually crafting stories that she was able to sell to national magazines. In 1903, she published “The Land of Little Rain,” a collection of short stories about the connection between the land, animals and people in the West.

  After gaining a measure of fame, Austin departed Independence but her experiences continued to flavor her work for the rest of her life. She died in New Mexico in 1934.

  Today, Austin’s presence can still be felt in Independence. The brown house under the willow tree (at 253 Market Street), which she and her husband built, remains standing. While it is a California Historical Landmark, it is also a private residence, so don’t disturb the inhabitants.

  Additionally, the nearby Eastern California Museum (155 N. Grant, about two blocks from the Mary Austin home) is an excellent place to learn more about Austin and the rich history of the region.

  The museum, founded in 1928, contains fine displays of Paiute and Shoshone basketry as well as an exhibit on Manzanar, the World War II Japanese-American internment center located five miles south of Independence.

  The five-acre grounds of the museum are covered with artifacts that help tell the region’s story.

  For instance, an extensive collection of agricultural machines and equipment remind you about the large farms that could once be found in the valley while the giant digging tools remind you about the construction of the Los Angeles Aqueduct (1908-1913), which eventually dried out the valley.

  Additionally, more than a dozen historic buildings can be found in the museum yard in a recreated pioneer village. The structures are authentic 19th century buildings relocated to the museum because they would have been destroyed if they had remained in their original settings.

  The collection of buildings includes an old general store, a blacksmith shop, an assay office, miner’s shacks, a livery stable, a barbershop and a three-hole outhouse.

  Adjacent to the pioneer village is a recreated Shoshone settlement with grass shelters and lean-tos.

  The museum gift shop offers a wide selection of books about Inyo County, including the works of Mary Austin. The museum is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday. There is no admission charge but donations are welcome.

  Independence is located about 200 miles south of Carson City via U.S. 395.

  For more information, contact the Eastern California Museum, www.inyocounty.us/residents/things-to-do/eastern-california-museum.

The Complicated Nature of Beautiful Mono Lake

 

  Mono Lake is a true wonder. With its stark, otherworldly appearance and other attributes, it is by far one of the most complex and unique ecosystems in the American West.

  It is, at the same time, a desolate high desert lake and a vibrant, living, special environment teeming with unusual lifeforms and formations.

  Located about three hours southwest of Fallon via U.S. 50 and U.S. 395, Mono Lake traces its beginning to more than 700,000 years ago, making it one of the oldest bodies of water in North America.

  Fed by melting glaciers, the lake once measured five times its present size of about 60 square miles (geologists believe the lake covered about 338 square miles and reached a depth of 900 feet).

  In addition to having direct ties to the Ice Age, the lake also has been the site of extensive volcanic activity, starting about 13,000 years ago, which helped shape its current state.

  For example, the rounded black hills to the south are remnants of giant, uplifted volcanic craters. At one, Panum Crater, easily accessible from Highway 120, you can hike to the dome and rim of a long-dead volcano.

  The area's volcanic heritage is also evident at Black Point, at the lake's north end, which features large fissures you can walk through, and at various hot springs and steam vents found in the basin.

  The lake's trademark tufa formations, however, are its most impressive and unusual landmarks. At various places around the lake, you can find clusters of these towering calcium spires and plugs 

  Tufa is the stone formed when calcium-bearing freshwater springs bubble up through alkaline lake water that is rich with carbonates. When the two combine, limestone deposits develop, which can, over years, grow into large towers.

  Tufa formations, however, can only grow beneath the lake’s waters. When the lake level falls and the tufa is exposed to air, it ceases to grow.

  A number of interpretive trails lead to patches of tufa formations located around the lake, including a large selection near the Mono Lake County Park, at the northwest end, the Scenic Area Visitor Center in Lee Vining, and the South Tufa Area at Navy Beach (accessible from Highway 120).

  The latter contains some of the largest and most impressive tufa. Dozens of the gnarled, knobbed, and rippled tufa towers line the southern lake shore.

  Visitors can wander along the beach, wandering through the maze of formations, which, depending upon the light and your mood, can assume exotic and mysterious shapes.

  While the lake appears dead, it is actually an alkali soup of strange but fascinating lifeforms. Both the brine shrimp and brine flies flourish on its algae-laden waters.

  Additionally, the lake is popular with many species of birds (who eat the shrimp and flies), including the California gull, the eared grebe and snowy plovers. In fact, 90 percent of the state of California's population of California gulls is born at Mono Lake.

  Swimming is permitted in the lake and, because it is more than 1,000-times as salty as the Pacific Ocean, an interesting experience because you float much easier. However, rangers warn that you should keep the water out of your eyes or any cuts because it will sting.

  When you feel the lake's water you find it thicker than normal lake water. Mark Twain once wrote: "Its sluggish waters are so strong with alkali that if you only dip the most hopelessly soiled garment into them once or twice, and wring it out, it will be found as clean as if it had been through the ablest of washer woman's hands."

  Despite its unique qualities, it's a small miracle that Mono Lake continues to exist. In 1941, the City of Los Angeles began diverting water from four of the five streams that feed the lake.

  During the next few decades, the lake level dropped 40 feet and doubled in salinity. Fortunately, using legal tools, environmentalists and local community groups were able to work with the city to start the process of restoring the flow of water to the lake.

  For more information about these ongoing efforts, go to: www.monolake.org.

How Owens Valley Became a Desert Wasteland

   Driving on U.S. 395, just south of Lone Pine, California, you’ll encounter a big, open largely-alkali valley just east of the highway. The vacant white patch spreads out for miles until reaching the rising Sierra Nevada range. On many days, parts of the valley are so dry, you can see dust devils forming on the flats.

   But it wasn’t always that way out here. In fact, until the early 20th century, this area, known as Owens Valley, was the home of Owens Lake, a prosperous and verdant farming and ranching region.

   What happened to Owens Lake is a story that is interwoven with the development and rapid growth of Southern California in the 20th century. In order for one to grow and succeed, the other had to virtually disappear.

   By the late 19th century, the city of Los Angeles had begun to realize that it simply didn’t have sufficient water to support its future growth. Located in a dry basin that typically receives about 14 inches of rain annually, the city had traditionally relied on the Los Angeles River and wells for its water.

   After identifying the Owens Valley as an ideal source of water, the city began acquiring water and land rights—often using subterfuge and political pressure—in the region. Following the approval of a local bond to pay for the project in 1905, work began on building the system of canals and storage reservoirs to transport and capture Owens Valley water north to Los Angeles.

   The first phase of the project, which encompassed some 233 miles of infrastructure, was completed in 1913.

   While considered an engineering marvel, the Los Angeles Aqueduct, as the project became known, was not without controversy. Once Owen Valley farmers and residents realized the what was happening, they used legal and, in some cases, extra-legal means to stop the water transfer.

   By the 1920s, agriculture in the Owens Valley began to suffer due to the water diversions. In 1924, a group of farmers succeeded in destroying part of the aqueduct, but it was quickly repaired. Two years later, the amount of water being drawn from the valley was so substantial that Owens Lake was completely dry.

   In 1970, a second Owens Valley Aqueduct was constructed to divert even more water to Los Angeles (from surface sources and groundwater pumping). This resulted in nearly all of the Owens Valley springs and seeps to dry up and disappear.

   In response to lawsuits and political influence, in the 1980s and 90s, Inyo County, in which Owens Valley is located, and the city of Los Angeles entered into an agreement designed to provide a reliable water source to Los Angeles while also better managing groundwater pumping in Owens Valley.

   To date, those efforts have not resulted in any substantial changes to the dry valley, which continues to see groundwater pumping at a rate higher than the water resources can be recharged.

   As a result, visitors to the Owens Valley can still see the radical changes that have occurred because of such a massive siphoning of water. Owens Lake remains a barren, alkali flatland, with occasional patches of vegetation. Large dust storms rise from the dusty white lakebed. It is a place that appears out of a dystopian Science Fiction movie. But, sadly, it’s all too real.

   For more information about the history of the Owens Valley and the impacts of the Los Angeles Aqueduct, go to: https://www.inyowater.org/documents/reports/owens-valley-water-history-chronology/.