Cat Haven, a surprising place.

I'm sure you all know the phenomenon; you pull off the road on a whim, lured by a billboard advertising something unusual that you'd never otherwise see. Maybe you drove by it and debated making the U-turn (first stage of commitment). Then maybe you sort of decide to at least drive back and scrutinize the sign in a stalling kind of way. You pull off the road and onto a strange driveway, the second stage of commitment. You sit in the parking lot of this place and give your significant other a look that smiles and says "What the hell? Why not?". You feel so darned adventurous. And it turns out to be great. I hope you know what that's like.

In the foothills east of Fresno and about midway up the endless grade to Kings Canyon/Sequoia National Parks is a big cat sanctuary that is open to the public. I'd seen the signs a dozen times going and coming from the parks and this time by we did the U-turn thing and that's how we found Cat Haven.

Awwww. Too cute for too short a time. This 3 month old leopard cub was all over his dad, the owner,, director, and CEO of Cat Haven.

Neither Ruth nor I had any preconceived notions when walking through the doors of the main building. We've been to a raptor re-hab place a few times, but seeing big cats would be a new one. We bought a $9 tour ticket from a nice guy that we found out later was the creator and god of this place. We spent a few minutes on the patio while our guide wrapped up what she was doing. We were joined by another couple and before we wandered off to see the cats she gave us some back story on Cat Haven and its partnerships with various cat conservation organizations and agencies. These claims were corroborated by photos of the Cat Haven CEO in all corners of the world, working with biologists in big cat environments. Cat Haven itself is a non-profit organization that currently has around 30 cats of 10 species. These animals have about 5-20 times the space that most zoo cats are afforded, and they seemed relaxed and well cared for. The enclosures are spread out over a rippling hillside forested with old oak trees. These cats had plenty of shade, trees to climb and claw, natural surroundings versus concrete, and I admired how they'd used the hillside to hide the different cat pens from each other. The various species of cats can't see each other, which I'm sure is good for morale. 

Our tour started with the CEO fooling around with a pair of 3 month old leopards that had come to the center shortly after birth. Most of the cats arrived here as kittens and this is all they know. A few of the cats are educational ambassadors and in that role they have found their way into movies, advertising, late-night, and even a super-bowl. Almost all the cats are female and cats are not bred here. The only SoCal natives in the lot were a pair of bobcats whose mother had been shot by poachers. The kittens were found in a dumped washing machine and are named Whirlpool and Maytag.

I loved this place. I really did. I'm man enough to admit that I'm a cat person (Leo). These cats, so many of them of so many species all in one place blew my mind. And that you could be so close. The railing for these enclosures was only three feet from the fence. The cats were mostly lazing in the mid-morning heat and were undisturbed by our presence. The only shy cats, the ones that remained hidden, were the bobcats and most of the cats, as you wil see, were perfectly happy to just hang out in their home. These were not neurotic anti-social zoo cats. It was a great experience and I highly recommend dropping by for the tour. You'll learn a lot. Check out their site and if you're ever driving the 180 toward Kings be sure to see these cats. 

Too fun.

This cheetah just stared and stared at me.

Ivan the Siberian Lynx (and below).

A very large male leopard.

Sikia the serval. According to our guide, these north african cats are the champion jumpers of the cat world. There were two servals in this enclosure and the guide said that any animal that mistakenly passes through the fence is instantly set upon and horribly tortured to death, even rattlesnakes.

This beautiful female leopard came up to the fence for some attention (and following 2 shots).

Female leopard.

South American jaguar.

The jaguarundi looks like every rodents worst nightmare. 

Female african lion.

These are the paws of the female African lion.

Cous Cous the Barbary Lion. This cat is descended from a highly endangered line of northeast african cats that prowl the deserts and coasts of Morocco, Mauritania and the western sahara. Note the large mane which continues well past the shoulders.  

Lookout Peak, and a little R&R in Kings Canyon National Park (photo essay)

Ruth, topping out on her first Sierra summit, Lookout Peak. This 8,500' peak is a tough walk. The trail takes off right from Cedar Grove in Kings Canyon and climbs 4,000' in six miles. The top is decorated with 2 communications repeaters which are bolted to the calico granite summit. The view from the summit, looking down and east into Kings, is worth every drop of sweat it took to get there. 

By now, those of you that keep up with this page know that Ruth and I just returned from an uncommonly good weekend in Kings Canyon. I've shared a bit on our multiple bear encounters and I posted the massive sequoias of Grant Grove, now its time for the rest of it. I've decided to take the lazy route and go with photos and captions.

The Kings River, somewhere upstream of Road End.

The Kings River and Muir Rock (in the foreground). This site is usually overrun with tourists. North Dome in the distance.

Ruth and I spent some time off-trail, just enjoying the woods.

Ruth and very blue sierra skies. Somewhere upstream of Road End.

This shot was taken between Muir Rock and Zumwalt Meadow.

Ruth and I at the footbridge upstream of Zumwalt Meadow.

North Dome and the Kings River.

On the eastern edge of Zumwalt Meadow.

North Dome.

Zumwalt Meadow.

A climbing bolt and blue sky.

This area got scorched in a controlled burn back in 2007. The only reason I know that is that I remember walking through this area while the tree roots were still smoldering.

Ruth and I at the incomparably cool Roaring River Falls.

An afternoon diversion on the Kings.

View, northeast from Lookout Peak. Kings is the deep glacial canyon to the right.

A view into the western part of The Canyon. 

This is another view of the Kings River, same footbridge as in a picture above.

The summit, and marker, of Lookout Peak.

Cloudburst over Kings

Same photo as above only zoomed out. This entire weekend I was crying for a better camera.

Ruth at Sheep Creek Cascade.

We grabbed some stuff and headed up the road to Zumwalt Meadow to catch one of the best light shows on earth, the sierra sunset. In this case, we watched the shadows creep up a paste shaded Sentinel.

Grant Grove, Kings Canyon/Sequoia National Park, 09/10/12

Ruthie peeking through the base of a lightning-struck, but very much alive giant sequoia.

Lets hear it for our National Parks. How fortunate we are to have places of such majesty. Without the protections that preserve these parks we would be visiting golf courses, luxury time-shares, and four diamond resorts. How lucky we in the west are. Think of Europe and take, for example, the Chamonix Valley. That valley has had villages sprinkled through it for a thousand years, long before the idea of national sanctuaries for exquisitely beautiful natural places. The western half of our nation developed rapidly, but at a time when the cultural values of resource exploitation and consumption really took off. Those few but mighty voices, whether driven by passion (as in the case of Muir), or by a more pragmatic and recreational view (Roosevelt), thought brilliantly outside the box. I almost feel as if it's a cultural responsibility to see these places. I know that many of the best days of my life have taken place while adventuring through our National Parks.  

Which brings me to the Giant Sequoias at Grant Grove on the border of Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. I love this place. I love the feeling of insignificance I get while walking through this hall of gargantuan ancients. This is one of those rare places where the life, and its staggering size and seemingly infinite lifespan, take center stage. I really struggle to comprehend it all, and of course I fail at that. I think of all the fires and lightning-strikes, ferocious winds, frigid winters and dry summers that these trees have experienced. I try to imagine each tree as a delicate biosphere, supporting a dizzying amount of life. I love being reminded that I am but a fleeting whisper in the cosmic scheme.

Anyway, go there. Take your kids there. The true beauty of this grove is impossible to capture with a lens. Ignore the tourists and let your eyes see and your mind appreciate. And think big.

Enjoy the pictures.