OUR MOUNTAIN MEADOWS 



411 



i he rapid flow from upper to lower 

 levels. And when the spring melting 

 is over and the surplus from the valley 

 slopes has ceased to run, the meadow 

 still retains within itself a mass of 

 water which will slowly seep away to 

 the brooklet and keep running through 

 the summer months of drought. Nor 

 does the meadow lose much to the air. 

 The thick grass prevents rapid air cur- 

 rents close to the ground, and the layer 

 of air saturated with moisture lies like 

 a blanket over the meadow preventing 

 further evaporation. At night much of 

 this moisture is again precipitated as a 

 drenching dew. In contrast to this, the 

 breezes are constantly moving through 

 the trees, and they are always dry. 

 They pick up from the leaves whatever 

 moisture they will release. The more 

 rapid and vigorous the growth of the 

 trees, the more moisture will they carry 

 up for evaporation. It would be dim- 

 cult to estimate the difference in the 

 amount evaporated from a meadow, and 

 the amount lost from the same area 

 grown up to trees. I believe the excess 

 of the latter is easily a hundred-fold 

 greater than the former. The ideal con- 

 ditions, then, for equalizing stream flow 

 from mountain regions like the Sierra 

 is to preserve the timber on the slopes 

 and the meadows in the valley bottoms. 

 Not only are the mountain meadows 

 necesssary for the proper conservation 

 of the streams, but in the National 

 Park where the fundamental purpose 

 of the reserve is for play-ground use, 

 the value of the meadow can scarcely 

 be estimated. A man can go where his 

 horse can go, and where his horse can 

 find feed a man must camp. The fact 

 that the Yosemite Park is dotted with 

 thousands of these verdant feed patches 

 is one of the reasons why this park is 

 the most ideal region in this country 

 for the pack and the saddle-horse type 

 of camping. The climate is practically 

 rainless for the three summer months. 

 The little meadows prevent its becom- 

 ing a desert. Eliminate the meadows 

 and camping will cease absolutely. De- 

 crease the number and area of the 

 meadows and camping will correspond- 

 ingly grow less easy and attractive. The 



park will thus lose the real reason for 

 its existence as a park. 



To anyone who traversed the park a 

 decade or more ago and returns to it 

 today, the change which is taking place 

 is perfectly apparent. Meadows which 

 ten years ago were clear and open to 

 grazing, are today pine jungles devoid 

 of feed for the horses. Others which 

 have not been blotted out completely 

 have been considerably diminished. Ex- 

 cluding a few of the great meadows, 

 like the Tuolumne Meadows, which will 

 long maintain themselves, I should say 

 that the meadow area of our National 

 Park has been reduced twenty-five per 

 cent during the last ten or fifteen years. 

 Within another decade the securing of 

 feed and camping places along some of 

 the trails will become a serious prob- 

 lem, unless steps are taken to check the 

 advance of the forest. For example, a 

 favorite camping place along the Big 

 Oak Flat Road, a few miles from the 

 Valley, was Tammarak Flat. Fifteen 

 years ago the lower end of the flat was 

 a charming meadow through which ran 

 a fine trout stream and about which on 

 higher ground stood a well-grown for- 

 est. Today there is scarcely a vestige 

 of the meadow at the lower end, the 

 young trees crowding in so close that a 

 pack horse can scarcely force his way 

 through. There is no grass, where be- 

 fore was fine feed. This is one of many 

 instances of a lovely camp ground of a 

 few years ago absolutely effaced. All 

 over the Park the same forces are at 

 work, nor is it surprising that the 

 change should thus suddenly appear. 

 Presumably the lakes of about the same 

 size left as the glaciers receded, have 

 silted up in approximately the same 

 period of time. The resulting flats have 

 grown to meadows, and now a large 

 percentage of them are ready to un- 

 dergo the final transformation. Fur- 

 thermore, the early grazing of this 

 whole region by the sheep, and the fire< 

 kindled by their herders at the end of 

 each season burning off the dry gra-- 

 and brush, destroyed each season's crop 

 of seedlings. From the 'sixties, there- 

 fore, to the time when the Park wa< 

 reserved from grazing, the forest ad- 

 vance was artificially prevented. It has 



