Tag Archives: Dry Creek Road





                     Not the least hurt by this ribbon of road carved on their sea-foot.

                                          – Robinson Jeffers (“The Coast-Road”)


Fridays bring the caravans of Christians,

SUVs freeway-spaced and paced at sixty

up this snaky road to the pines and cedars

                                                                                    to pray


and low-snow weekends, the growl of mud grips

on decomposing asphalt, armies of colored jeeps

and shiny four-wheel drives drone up-canyon

                                                                                    to play


do not see these hills leaking with pleasure,

every wrinkle running with crystal streams

of rain, three weeks of storms rushing to


a rising, chocolate creek with foam, nor

the naked sycamores, leaves undressed,

white limbs dancing, rosy fingers reaching


for steamy clouds afloat upon the green

oak-studded slopes, black dots of cattle

scattered with all the legends gone before me.





An ever-play movie,

road in the distance

following the creek

            wet or dry

            up or down


a stream of SUVs

at 60 spaced militarily

from So Cal

to Christian camps

above Eshom


                      remembering Loren

                      on an ox cart load

                      of carp to dry

                      for the summer


CalFire trucks

twice a day


cattle neighbors,


loads of hay


Badger locals

on shoulders parked

for first or last

cell phone service


sprinkled with tentative tourists

and strings of Harleys

roaring for or from

a burger at the Mountain House.


We believe we can read

everybody’s business

long distance.






We hold our breath
just before
Memorial Day weekend

winds up, hear
the gears whine,
feel the speed

at ninety-plus,
barbed wire either side—
listening for the abrupt,

the certain screech
as you fade up the canyon.
We pray for your mother.



This post begins the new category of ‘DECK POEMS’: John & Robbin’s evening collaborations.


December 8, 2010

December 8, 2010


The green struggles in the clay.
Sycamores stand half-dressed
beside an empty bed exposing
white limbs as the sun sets.
The shadow of the ridge behind us
becomes a long, dark stage
for a chorus line of dancing girls,
arms entwined, kicking high
at the gate as we leave home
for a fire upstream—turkey
trimmed with camaraderie.
No traffic on the road to see
these celebrations along the creek
as the canyon waits for rain.


WPC – Signs of Street Life Non-sense


Not a good sign for us that our asphalt connection to the outside world has received more attention during this past year with more non-sense emanating from town, reflective reminders, spaced every tenth of a mile, that nothing ever stays the same.


Shortly thereafter, Dry Creek Road got its first double-yellow line for its initial eight miles to where the pavement becomes too narrow to accommodate a vehicle either side of it, false hope for tourists taking the backway to Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park towing fifth-wheels with no place to turn around. The most recent signage also suggests sharing the road with bicyclists. Tricky business when the latest fine for crossing over the double-yellow line was $350.


Then a white fog line painted on and off the dirt. Thank you Tulare County government, dollars well spent!



Weekly Photo Challenge