California is a hard state to leave when you're on vacation!
We were still obsessed--or rather I was still obsessed--with the giant sequoia and redwood trees. Seeing them. Breathing them in. We decided to pay a visit to Kings Canyon National Park and see one more famous giant sequoia. If you remember the General Sherman tree, this next tree was second only to that tree in trunk size. This Tree #2 on the Hit Parade of BIG TREES was estimated to be 1700 years old (can you imagine?) and was named after the great Civil War general and president Ulysses S. Grant.
I know what you're thinking.
Rascal Chuck did not have a good track record with giant sequoias. But he'd learned his lesson when he'd gotten stuck on the spongy bark of General Sherman. I was convinced Chuck could look and not climb the great General Grant.
Plus, we had a ways to go before we reached General Grant and that journey involved a lot of walking. I was hoping the exercize would tire Chucky out. He would lose some of his rambunctiousness! Fingers crossed.
We first had to hike through glorious country to reach Roaring River Falls. The weather was in the low seventies. Despite the fires that were raging in parts of Yosemite National Park, up here in the Sierra Mountains the air was crisp and clear and there were no signs of smoke.
We traced the falls as they cascaded and broke along the rocks and wound along the river bed. Pure heaven. Maybe, for the first time, I understood, a cat's need to sniff. It's their way of interacting with nature. Here, near Roaring River Falls, you could taste the sweetness when you pulled that refreshing mountain air into your lungs.
The riverbed water eventually dropped forty feet to a pool below, comprised almost completely of snowmelt from the mountains that ran through the canyons.
We then passed Kings River and the surrounding granite cliffs including two of the most famous. The first was named Grand Sentinel, and it measured 8,518 feet high.
The second equally famous structure was North Dome measured 8,717 feet high.
None of what we saw in the distance was of any interest to Chucky. He was focused on the trail that we walked and on the trees that surrounded us as we headed back to see General Grant. If he couldn't sniff it, he didn't want to know about it.
Finally, we reached out destination. There General Grant stood in all its glory in a fenced-in area, of course, so visitors won't stomp too close or touch the wonderful spongy bark (which makes these sequoias so impervious to insect attack or fire, but gives them that other world appeal).
I glanced down at Chuck, who was acting like a model cat. For the moment. I pointed to the fence. "Forbidden zone. Remember what happened the last time."
But was he even listening? Chucky has this annoying habit of looking directly at you as if he's hearing every word you're saying, but he's not really listening at all.
One of my all time favorite movies is Meet the Parents. Instantly I became the Robert De Niro character Jack in my favorite scene where he tries to intimidate his future son-in-law Ben Stiller. De Niro takes his two forefingers, points them at his eyes and then points them directly at Stiller. In other words--I'm watching YOU. I imitated that gesture to Chucky. He bounced back a little.
Satisfied I'd made my point, we took the wonderful boardwalk-like trail that went around the tree to the back. It was less crowded. Our guide was telling us about General Grant--the tree.
President Eisenhower declared it to be a National Shrine in 1956. It was dedicated to the men and women of the Armed Forces who fought and died to keep America free. General Grant is also called the Nation's Christmas Tree.
That piece of information--imagining this tree being decorated with bulbs and lights and tinsel--made me think about Chuck. One of his favorite places at Christmas is under our Christmas tree at home . . . Chuck. I looked down. No Chuck.
In the background I heard Dan ask when this magnificent tree was first called General Grant.
"1867."
I tugged on Dan's sleeve. "Chuck. Do you see him anywhere?"
He shook his head.
"Not again."
Our guide and all the visitors were further ahead now. We stopped. "Chuck has to be here somewhere."
We craned our necks upwards, both anticipating and dreading the inevitable--that Chuck, once again, was making an attempt to climb a giant sequoia.
We were dead wrong.
It was only when we looked down that we spotted him--snoozing peacefully at the truck of General Grant.
Dan rescued Chuck from the forbidden zone. The poor kid, I thought. All that hiking and sightseeing had worn him plum out! Boy, could I sympathize. It was the end of a long day. As we returned to our hotel that night, I thought about the day's events and wondered what I could have done differently. One thing for sure. I had to work on my Robert DeNiro I'm watching YOU impression.
