Mammoth

Reflections of a Sunrise

I first visited Mammoth in my early twenties when I decided I wanted to ski...that would be in the winter of 1972. Over the next several years I became an intermediate skier at best....moguls always got the better of me, but when it was all just right the exhilaration of being the first to ski down a slope of new fallen snow is difficult to match. I forget the name of many of the runs, but the "Bowl" was my favorite. It was the back side of the main mountain, perhaps the blownout crater of the volcano. Upon first sight my companions pointed out specks at the bottom of the vast sloping field of snow. The specks were skiers, just barely discernible as human figures probably 3000' below. The one memory that most stands out was a fall that sent me tumbling, sliding and rolling for maybe two to three hundred yards down the slope. When my companions caught up with me, expecting to see a broken body, I was laughing at the fun of it all, not the least bit harmed.

Mammoth is a different place now because of commercialization and the growth of the second home sector. I remember clearly driving out to a vast windswept meadow just outside of town back in the old days. The wind literally howled and ripped the snow off of the meadow and into huge drifts along the road. I had no idea that the meadow, decades later, would be the site of a golf course and townhouse/condominium complex. We owned and sold two of those homes in the nineties. Kids grow up and lose interest in going to the mountains with Mom and Dad. I closed the last home alone, carrying away a few possessions in the SUV. Turning off of 395 at the Hot Creek turnoff I pulled the car over and gazed back at the mountain and the Minarets far beyond. Tears came to my eyes as memories and emotion swept through me. That was the end of an era in my life and that of my family's. I did not return to Mammoth for many years....perhaps ten or twelve.

The picture above is of the bluffs visible from the balcony of our second and last home.


I found Mammoth town was nearly shut down that October afternoon. The last of the tourists had headed home and the citizens were resting in anticipation of the coming November snows and holidays. The streets seemed abandoned, there were no waits at the few restaurants still open, and rooms were available at any house of lodging one selected. Mammoth was catching its breath. I had never experienced the town in such a state. It struck me how dependent the local economy was on the tourist trade. As it happened that coming winter was a bust. Snowfall was low, the economy was still strangling finances, the tourists did not come and many people were laid off......Pray for snow this coming winter.

I arose very early the next morning with two objectives in mind....to shoot the rising sun as reflected by the western ridges and bluffs, and the fall colored aspens.....and to drive into the San Joaquin River canyon before the road was closed to private cars at 7:00 a.m. It was damnably cold. My fingers were so numb that I was reduced to a fumbling fool with the camera equipment.

To be Continued

The Minarets from Hot Creek Road