Autumn In The Sierra Nevada Mountains of California

The warm light in the Sierra Nevada in autumn is unlike any other. Summer’s golden grass has burnished and the slant of the sun tells the trees to ready for winter. Liquid Ambers burn to crimson and Aspen’s round leaves shimmer in the breeze-a trove of coins glinting in the sun.

Placerville or ‘Old Hangtown” hosts the annual harvest festival as the area apple farms open their doors to the public. Crafters show their wares from beneath white awnings, the smell of buttery cinnamon sweet mingles with resinous pine and families from the cities of Sacramento and San Francisco Bay make their way to this idyllic setting. Reminiscent of days gone by, the narrow winding roads lead explorers from farm to farm. Around each bend is a new delight—tall redwood groves, split wood fences lining the way separating road from green grass or neat lines of apple laden trees. Vineyards neat rows comb the rich earth undulating over foothill topography in European fashion; proud vintner’s residence and tasting rooms atop rounded hill nestled in the cool of shade trees.







Chrysanthemum and roses splash color, picnic tables beckon travelers pause and the bounty of the growing season is displayed in wooden vats-- squash, gourds, Indian corn, and apples of every imaginable shade of red, yellow and green.

A further fifty miles up the mountain the air cools, pines dominate and granite juts from the earth echoing some long ago violent past. Lake Tahoe, the gem of the Sierras reflects crystal clear skies in cerulean blue brilliance and amethyst depth. The deepest lake on the continent, it rivals the great lochs of Scotland and Alpine lakes of the European continent for grandeur and beauty.





Adjunct to the grand summer home of Scandinavian design is Vikingsholm Castle on Fannette Island in the middle of South shore’s Emerald Bay.





Frigid falls tumble down sheer cypress dotted cliffs. Shaded streams gurgle, pausing across leveled flats before resuming their course toward the lake.

Driving south along the eastern spine of the Sierras, one arrives at the Gold rush ghost town of Bodie.





Preserved in a state of “arrested decay” the wood buildings dot the high desert terrain, all but five percent having succumbed to the ravages of time, this remote and infamous town echoes the boom time’s, mining zest, stagecoach holdups, street fights and a ‘sea of sin, lashed by the tempests of lust and passion’.



The ‘bad men of Bodie’ are silent, the remains of lives suspended in time beneath wide skies and tin covered roofs. Furniture and the implements of everyday need rest behind wavy glass windows, blanketed under a thick layer of dust.







The extraordinarily warm autumn day cast this historical locale against a backdrop of chaparral and silence.

One final saunter around the June Lake loop in the shadow of Mammoth Mountain before dropping south through Mohave dessert into the L.A. basin; the lakes of the loop reflect the mountains above in a shimmering mirror of calm water. Trout fishermen cast from the shore, one lone boat taking advantage of the last weekend of the season. The sun dips behind the mountains, deep shadows spread across the aspens and the colors of the day fade.

Five days in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California comes to an end under the chill of a star spattered sky.