As sunrise filtered through the broken cloudy remains of our first fall rain, I sat on the bed, looking out the window, watching the first low-lying lake fog of the season, melt away to reveal Antelope Valley, the Sweetwaters and beyond. My morning routine I consider one of my "selfish" little pleasures in life and one I seldom break as I gaze out the window at the Valley every morning, mentally sorting my thoughts and planning the list of chores needing my attention during the day.
Watching the fog disappear, the thought entered my daydreaming, it was getting to be time for the lake to "turn over." I guess rather a curious thing to daydream about but the thought was there nonetheless.
What does "turn over" mean? As the surface temperature of lake water cools, it finally gets colder than the temperature at the bottom depths, causing the surface water to sink to the bottom, forcing the warmer water to rise to the top. There is my layman's unscientific explanation of "turn over."
As thoughts continued to meander in my mind, I thought back to the first time I had heard that term. It was September 1984. I was living and working in the mountains near the Desolation Wilderness border in El Dorado County. We had been hired to take a three-man team into the wilderness, with horses and a pack mule, to test some of the back-country lakes for acid rain. In order to do the tests, the weather had to get cold enough for the lakes to turn over, which also meant working in less than desirable conditions as far as weather in the high country was concerned.
It had snowed hard the night before the scheduled lake, Grouse Lake near Wrights Lake, was to be tested. My partner and I had a young man working for us at the time. He was supposed to take the scientists in to the test lake as we took a hike up the trail to check the conditions for accessing Lois Lake at the top of Red Peak. We weren't up the trail even a half-mile when we heard our forest service radio. Our young packer, Joe, said he couldn't find the trail head leading to Grouse Lake because the snow had covered all the signs.
I had not planned on going for a hike in the snow that day but it appeared to rapidly become the plan as we joined Joe and the scientists to get them to the lake. With Acme "rough-out" western boots on, I slipped and slid as I tried to find one ounce of footing in snow that was getting deeper and up to my knees in the drift areas, with each foot I gained in elevation. Finally reaching the lake, the scientists inflated a rubber raft, slipped into insulated wet suits and rowed out in the middle of the lake to gather their samples as the three of us found a flat granite rock, stripped of wet shoes and socks, and tried to dry them in the sun as well as thaw frozen feet.
The tests were done too soon, socks didn't dry and feet hadn't thawed as I struggled back into my inappropriate footwear. The scientists were now under serious time constraints as the samples had to reach a laboratory in Carson City within 10 hours, at least an hour of which would be used up just to reach their vehicles at the trail head. I was fairly well left alone as to how to get down off the mountain and back to the trail head by means of my own resources. All I now remember of my "ill-prepared" freezing afternoon in waning sunlight, was skiing more than walking, finding my way by following the tracks of the horses and everyone who had gone ahead of me, as anger and frustration fueled my determination to get out of there on my own and to never be that stupid again.
So, do I know what it means for a lake to turn over? It's something I will be a long time in forgetting. Toward the end of this week, the first snows are predicted for the high country. As the temperatures decline, I'm finding it harder to abandon the comfort of a nice warm bed and my morning daydreams while looking out the window and watching another sunrise over Antelope Valley.
So, until next week, stay safe, stay warm and keep on keepin' on.
n Jonni Hill can be reached through The Record-Courier at jhill@recordcourier.com or by calling 782-5121, ext. 213, or after hours at JHILL47@aol.com
