Dinkey Creek

It began on a summer trip during junior high school, my love affair with Dinkey Creek. To scramble over giant granite boulders gushing water in anticipation of discovering another deep-blue-green translucent swimming hole, filled with trout one could almost grab, seemed as exciting as waiting for my first adolescent kiss. The scents from infinite colors of green intoxicated. This experience surely will be one remembered in the fleeting moments when I gasp for my last breaths of air.

Never did a visit to this magical destination disappoint. I endured the rare August thunder storm and skied cross country through virgin powder to my favorite waterfall. At 16 and no longer dependent on my older buddies to drive me, I brought friends, girlfriends and family over 48 years.

My twins were seven on their first trip. One insisted we had to return every summer, which we almost accomplished. Karen and I took Lucas 5 months after his birth. The following summer will be remembered by his crab-like crawl in the dusty reddish Sierra soil and the baths that followed in the small tubs we used to wash dishes. Three of my dogs over the years have frolicked in the creek, swam the deep pools and leaped crevices formed by ancient glaciers.

Bella, our Lab, had her first trip as a puppy and has loved her visits since. We shall return this summer, while she can still enjoy chasing tennis balls into her favorite swimming holes. I love it when we approach our destination, she perks up, points her nose out the window into the strong wind and wags her tail as if she had one.

Much has changed since the 1960s.  More campsites and more people have forced us to avoid weekends. We continue to return because we know exactly what to expect: few people, clean campsites, functioning toilets; a special light that only the Sierra Nevada can produce at any given moment; deep blue skies occasionally laced with puffy clouds by day, while stars paste the night sky; a place to read, to think in solitude by roaring waterfalls; brisk cool waters to escape from the heat; sun-soaked granite rocks waiting to warm my shivering body; strong gin and tonics with good squeeze of lime. It is a place to commune; to have fun with family and friends; to reminisce at night around the warm glow of a campfire. Dinkey Creek has indeed been my life-long mistress. 

- DD

Addendum: We had not been to Dinkey for 4 years. We were shocked by the number of trees stricken by drought and beetle bark disease that had been felled around the campsites. Too many trees continue to die while nature and humans change the land.