Owens Valley California Fall Season
Text and images copyright Tom Hill, all rights reserved

Granite rocks, mountain cliffs, razor sharp peaks punching skyward, rarefied air, and color. What? Color? What’s that got to do with rocks and mountains? Those familiar with Ansel Adam’s famous landscapes and vistas showcasing the monochromatic elegance of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range are taking a break and wondering, “What’s color got to do with the ultimate study of light, rock, and sky?” About the third weekend in October, color has everything to do with it and you’re about to see why

The Owens Valley, four hours north of Los Angeles and approaching the eastern border with Nevada, in recent years is more commonly known by Southern California locals for its water rights controversies and as a path to that mega ski resort of Mammoth Mountain than for its subtler virtues like elementary studies of fall hues and chiseled granite cliffs. But it’s there waiting to be seen. Nestled between the White and Sierra Mountain Ranges, Owens Valley is reputed to be the deepest in the United States with almost a 10,000 foot difference between the floor and nearby mountain peaks. It’s also termed as a classic rift valley, meaning in geological terms the valley is widening with both mountain ranges moving away from each other. Obviously, this isn’t something we need to concentrate on in our terms except for noticing the evidence of geological activity that’s essentially dormant nowadays. It’s the kind of activity that bore the terrain we enjoy today.

The Eastern Sierra Mountains, west of Owens Valley, are pock-marked with isolated stands of Aspens. Unlike the east coast with its continuous, undulating hills of green foliage married to a fall color bonanza, the terrain here is rocky mountainous with spots of green to break the style. The peaks here are upwards of 14,000 feet above sea level. And, that’s only significant in saying it’s really high to most flat-landers. Normally this isn’t a matter to focus on but when you’re hiking among the slopes shortness of breath becomes a factor. Not so much due to physical condition but more because the lack of oxygen at that altitude. It’s the kind of thing that will affect everyone including the most fit. Still, most of the fall color experience can be enjoyed from the nearby comfort of a four-wheeled vehicle so you needn’t be worried about embarking on some sort of Olympic training routine to partake in this adventure.

The weather is essentially dry most of the year, which yields fantastic vistas unencumbered by hazy moist air. Visibility exceeds a hundred miles on good days and can cause the less experienced to underestimate ranges to distant features when stopping at those ubiquitous scenic stops. The reason is weather and all its moist air and clouds just doesn’t make it over the high peaks of the Sierra Nevada from the Pacific Ocean. Fall and winter storms that pound the west coast lose their intensity by the time they reach the Owens Valley. Only the strongest storms have enough energy to reach the valley and only then the precipitation is a relative sprinkle. The result is western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range enjoy vast tracks of green trees while on the other side of the peaks, here in the Owens Valley, trees have to concentrate in vales of free flowing glacial melt in order to survive. From the air this looks like green ribbons cascading down a mountain’s ribs with the rest of the mountain’s body exposed for viewing.

Out east, little of any mountain slopes are exposed for view. Foliage density is so great colors flow from horizon to horizon without a break. During the fall color bonanza it’s easy to forget how special the season is amongst the saturation of colored leaves. Flying out east in years past with the United States Air Force, I tried directing my training missions over especially charismatic areas like western Maine during the third week of October. They were coined as “leaf checks” because the beauty of the surroundings was such a magnet. I routinely varied my missions to hone flying skills with different terrain and typically directed my efforts to the most colorful areas on the east coast every fall. These “leaf checks” were a collateral benefit of this expanded training. Under crystal clear autumn skies, I’d travel at 500 mph, passing hundreds of square miles of pure color as far as the eye could see while hugging the terrain trying to avoid searching eyes of national enemies bent on preventing my intentions. The aesthetic experience of such intensive training taking place among such a colorful environment was wild and entirely different than here in California.

The mountains here are the tour de force while the colored leaves provide a seasonal accent. Don’t presume that since color is only an accent that the grandeur of the season is even remotely diminished. On the contrary, the sledgehammer color experience out east is replaced with that mixture of light, rock, sky, and color that can’t be duplicated anywhere else on the planet. The Eastern Sierra color season’s subtle characteristics are the attraction this time of the year, which is funny when you consider the subtlety over the rest of the year is not the draw. Visitors usually flock to see the larger than life mountains that overwhelm the virtues of anything subtle in the Eastern Sierra. I hadn’t discovered any of these until someone physically pointed them out to me a couple years ago. I lived in Southern California for years and reveled in the weekends to play at that extraordinary outdoor playground of Mammoth Mountain. Every weekend, I traveled Historic Highway 395 from Los Angeles to Mammoth Lakes to go skiing in the winter or mountain biking in the summer. Never once did I notice there was more to the path than a simple conduit to my destination; the journey was a necessary evil to reach the real attraction in Mammoth Lakes. As funny as it sounds, the “low tone” features of the Eastern Sierra Fall season are easy to overlook unless you take time to slow down and take notice. I only made this season’s acquaintance after a friend took me into the valleys and slowed me down enough to see what was right in front of me all those years.

The best place to base a weekend of “leaf checking” in the Eastern Sierra is Bishop, California, five hours north of Los Angeles along Highway 395. All the basic amenities are there from chain hotel accommodations to great little restaurants that satisfy the most discerning palette. By the time the mountain peaks are enjoying their peak colors, Bishop’s massive Cottonwoods are still suitably cloistered in green and a couple weeks away from their fall transformations. Don’t worry. A simple 15-mile drive will get you right to the heart of the matter - fall color.

From Bishop, explore the nearest valleys, Bishop Creek Canyon being the closest. The drive on Highway 168 can be quite steep and there isn’t much to see until you’re out of the foothills. Once in the mountains, scan their flanks for those ribbons of color. Stop if you wish, or just drive slowly up the road to get a feel of the fall atmosphere. Bishop Creek Canyon splits into northern and southern forks. Either fork will reveal outstanding stands of colored Aspens. One interesting aspect of the fall season is if one valley doesn’t quite measure up, simply check the other. Environmentally each fork is quite different which can cause the fall color bonanza to be distinct between the two from year to year.

Remember, there are lots of blind curves and standing out in the middle of the road is a sure way to suffer an early demise or to get nominated for a Darwin Award. It may be peace and quiet when you get out but it won’t last for long. Another traveler is sure to careen around the corner without a care and certainly won’t be looking for you, so watch out!

Here are a couple other traveler recommendations:

1) Water. You never know how long you’ll be out and the dry Eastern Sierra environment will make you thirsty before you know it.
2) A map. Obviously it’s the only sure way to keep you on track to where to go and how to get there.
3) Camera. While I won’t get into the details of how to use this, having pictures after you get home will make the benefits of the trip last longer and longer.
4) Binoculars. In many places, the valleys of color are considerable distances from easy access. At the risk of scrambling across cliffs and rocks, binoculars are sure tools to allow you to continue your studies of rock and color in the distance.
5) Finally, a jacket. Normally the Eastern Sierra doesn’t experience extreme weather until after the peak color season. Still, the mornings at high elevation are cool and are 20 to 40 degrees cooler than the valley floor. Bring a jacket to be safe.

The trip to higher altitudes is like moving forward in the leaf season. At higher elevations leaves are further along in their transformation; associated colors are therefore much brighter. If they aren’t quite peak at the lower elevations, a few miles up the road is sure to be different. So much so that when you’re late enough in the season you’ll see the backside of the transformation with leaves fallen to the ground, trees left bare.

The Bishop Creek area is the largest, most accessible location to view the fall bonanza from the town of Bishop. Further north up Highway 395 towards Mammoth Lakes you’ll find other valleys full of changing leaves. Elevations are higher although the roads aren’t quite as steep. Stop at Tom’s Place, McGee Creek, Convict Lake, or Mammoth Lakes. Each possesses unique qualities that are waiting for discovery. The northern edge of Owens Valley reveals the June Lake Loop. At higher altitudes, tree stands are much larger and cover greater portions of the surrounding terrain in this region than at the lower altitudes like those in the Bishop area. Unlike the region near Bishop Creek, the mountain slopes are distant enough to get a larger view of color and rock. Still, we aren’t talking the wide-open color extravaganza that you’d see out east. I’m saying there’s just enough color to really accent the usually stark nature of the Rocky Mountains.

The northern border of this fall expedition is the town of Lee Vining, the gateway to Yosemite National Park at the shores of Mono Lake. This little town is at the other end of the valley from Bishop. While Bishop is a thriving metropolis of 4,000 people, Lee Vining is a pittance in comparison. Counting only a couple hundred full-time residents in town, Lee Vining is at the crossroads of Highways 395 and 120. Fortunately, Lee Vining is just the right distance from a morning start in Bishop to relieve the weary leaf hunter from a day enjoying the fall spectacle. It has all the major services such as lodging, gas, sightseeing, and food.

Oh, the food. Unquestionably the finest eating establishment in Lee Vining and perhaps the entire Owens Valley is the Mobile gas station, the Tioga Gas Mart at the 395 and 120 crossroads. Sized like a huge convenience store, the station is less a fueling location than a full-featured service stop for travelers. Upon entry you’ll see all the normal tourist trappings such as maps, $3 dollar plastic gifts for five year olds. You get the picture. Further in, the wine selection materializes then finally the food counter of the Whoa Nellie Deli. Staffed by its high-energy chef, Matt “Tioga” Toomey, they’re waiting to serve you from a menu that includes everything from fish tacos to the finest meatloaf anywhere, excepting of course my deceased Grandma Essie Mae’s. I think three quarters of the appeal of the place beyond the outstanding food is the unexpected discovery of its culinary delights. It’s a must stop location worthy of adjusting an entire day’s itinerary just to ensure a visit. You won’t be disappointed.

The Owens Valley fall experience is unlike any in the United States. While the colors aren’t the most spectacular, where else will you find such a combination of super high mountain peaks, deep valleys, and colorful Aspens mixed in? It’s a study of color and granite accessible by anyone with a will.