PDA

View Full Version : Jed Smith and Mountain Joe Walker



Heyduke
04-19-2014, 11:56 AM
Jedediah Smith had brass balls, and not much else. He trekked along the known and semi-known routes from the Rocky Mountains, through the Mohave Desert, up the Central Valley of California, over to Santa Cruz and the San Francisco Bay, up the Sacramento River past Mt. Shasta into Oregon territory and back out to the Green River Rendezvous site in what is now the State of Wyoming.

On a second trip, Jed Smith blundered through the Sierra on his return, taking with him only two surviving men from his original party. He failed to adequately map the route. Over the course of three years, Jed Smith got 26 of his 33 men killed, while two others deserted. He himself had part of his scalp ripped off by a grizzly bear, and was killed at the age of 33 by Mojave Indians.

Contrastingly, Mountain Joe Walker was a geographical mystic, with a strong intuitive sense of the shape, texture and topographical details of the Western wilderness. Though he had a cool demeanor, he also had gravitas. His men trusted his leadership. His Indian wives loved and respected him. He rescued many people along the way, and diffused many gnarly situations.

Mountain Joe Walker was the first white man to set foot in Yosemite Valley, after lowering their animals and equipment by rope from granite shelf to granite shelf. He mapped a usable route through the Sierra, which eliminated the need to cross the Mojave. His favorite food was dog with acorn. He was an expert horseman, knowing exactly when to rest, feed, and harvest his horses for meat.

For 50 years, Mountain Joe Walker explored the Western wilderness, bridging the gap between the trappers, mountain men and finally the cowboys. He died in 1876 at his homestead in Walnut Creek, California.

Today, I’ll be retracing some of the steps of Smith and Walker, though I’ll be travelling by highway. I’ll go past some of the old Spanish missions where they briefly found the comforts of wine, women and song. I’ll go past Bear Buttes where a dozen of Smith’s men were eaten by grizzly bears. I’ll arrive on the banks of the Mad River, so named because Smith’s party became livid at having to cross another damn river. And, I’ll envy those old mountain men in the sense that a new discovery lay around every bend.

It's high time I got out of this zoo of traffic, pollution and humanity (Santa Cruz and San Francisco). I'm returning home, where much to my daughter's dismay, I have no television or internet access. I guess we'll actually have to talk, tell stories, and play cribbage and chess and basketball. Cya'll in a couple weeks.

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-whTLb-cSoQQ/TqFkINwcl5I/AAAAAAAAAZM/ST-P3JSTWns/s320/471px-Joseph_Walker_circa_1860_by_Mathew_Brady.jpg