Getting Out: The first time I ever heard of Mineral King was in
the 1960s when Walt Disney proposed developing a ski resort there.
While this has etched Mineral King in my memory, the area has
remained a mystery to me. Since then, the notion of a visit there
has always been dancing in my mind. Last weekend, I answered the
call.
The first time I ever heard of Mineral King was in the 1960s when Walt Disney proposed developing a ski resort there. While this has etched Mineral King in my memory, the area has remained a mystery to me. Since then, the notion of a visit there has always been dancing in my mind. Last weekend, I answered the call.
Mineral King is not a handy stop-off point on the way to anywhere else. When you complete the drive up Mineral King Road off Highway 198 east of Visalia, you will understand why every Tom, Dick and Harry has not told you about this area. The 25-mile road follows the East Fork of the Kaweah River on a twisty-turny drive that requires a very long hour and strong resistance to motion sickness. But don’t be deterred. When you arrive at Mineral King, the day’s hardest task is behind you, and there is ample reward.
Silver City used to support operations at the various mines that brought attention to this region during the 1870s. Now, Silver City Resort is an enclave of rustic cabins nestled in the pines several miles below the road end at Mineral King. After the long drive up Mineral King Road, we gratefully paused here for a fabulous burger and great hospitality. Refreshed and refueled, we headed up to the trailhead.
If you like bells and whistles, head for Yosemite Valley. But, if your idea of heaven is the middle of nowhere, Mineral King is for you.
This is the middle of nowhere in the very best sense. Near the end of the road, we emerged from the forest cover into the most idyllic alpine valley imaginable. On the left rose a wall of 12,000-foot peaks that are part of the Great Western Divide, a major Sierra feature second only to the Sierra Crest itself. Several miles straight ahead, the divide, in a succession of sawtooth peaks, begins a right turn that swings around and encloses the valley.
In stark contrast to the imposing peaks all around, the newly born East Fork of the Kaweah River collects contributions from side canyon creeks and twists lazily down the center of this gentle U-shaped valley. Not only could I understand what Walt Disney visualized here, so “perfect” was the setting, I wondered for a moment if he built it.
I was very fortunate to be guided on my walk by Louise Jackson, a woman whose family is an important part of the history of this valley, and who knows it like few others. Most trails out of the valley climb quickly up its walls, but Louise took us toward White Chief along a trail that edges gently up western slope. From our start at 7,800 feet, we slowly ascended the valley wall for a mile-and-a-half where we turned right up a side canyon toward White Chief.
Amid the steep canyon walls, we soon reached a soft alpine meadow at the edge of the tree line. The setting was divine. The granite slopes above were sparsely dotted with foxtail pines and sierra juniper — two trees that wear their struggle with the elements with twisted elegance.
Louise brightened our walk with stories of the many mines that dotted the valley slopes and the miners who worked them. John Crabtree, Charles Belden and George Loup, who discovered the White Chief Mine in 1872, told that the spirit of a white Indian chief appeared before them at their camp on the Little Kern. He guided them over the pass to the amphitheater above our meadow and spread his arms wide, then vanished. Here, they staked their claim and built the White Chief Mine.
Years of wrangling in the courts killed the Disney proposal and Mineral King is now part of Sequoia National Park. Thank goodness.
