Rena Beth Moore-Smith

Life in Owens Valley! by Rena "Beth" Moore-Smith

*Our Hideaway*
By Rena Elizabeth Moore

We followed half-forgotten trails
Through summer scented hills;
And I've forgotten how we went
But can't forget the thrills.
We hiked along a rocky grade
Through ancient, gritty soil,
And marveled at the broken slopes,
Not minding hours of toil.
And then we stopped to rest beside
A willow moss-lined stream,
With a grassy sunlit hideaway
Where we could sit and dream.
We built a fireplace out of rock,
Just had to some wood ....
And planned to slip away and cook
And sit there when we could.
We've christened it the "Rena-Clar"...
And a new found joy was ours
As we hiked beneath a sky of blue
Pinned up by a million stars.



11/22

Rena Elizabeth Roop - 1905 Rena "Beth" More-Smith's mother

Man at work - circa 1939 Willis Moore	Chores all done. - circa 1941 L/R (back row): Bonnie Selander, ?, Wanda Selander, Thelma Roop L/R: (front row): Rena Beth Moore, Willis Moore, Harlow Selander
Dude Payson, Babe Logan, Rena Elizabeth Moore, Jo Caps Independence circa 1921 Babe's father was Sheriff	At Claire's camp. L/R: Claire Selander, Wanda Selander, Harlow Selander.
Dear Beloved Darling Adorable Claire, Isn't this fun! We're having hot cocoa, etc., on our oil stove - now, the question at hand is: Are you having the winnie roast tonight? I will bring the desert if you are - if not, I'll cook some corned beef stew on my little oil stove. What time is it? (please) and how are you making out? Your "Confectionate" Rena "Flame of Whitney Portals"?
Hikers with lunches ready to hit the trail. L/R: Rena Beth Moore, Wanda Selander, Frankie ?, Barbara ?, Thelma Roop, Georgie Moore, Claire Selander, Doreen Selander, Bobby Moore, Harlow Selander, Bonnie Selander	L/R (back row): Bonny, Wanda, Lynwood Moore L/R (front row): Jim Moor, Rena Beth Moore, Willis Moore

Ted Cook - circa 1941 Ted owned Mt. Whitney Pack Trains Pack Stations located at Whitney Portal and Carroll Creek	L/R: Fred Moore, Slim ? at Carroll Creek Pack Station
Packing up two strings of mules at Whitney Portal.	Jerry the packer heading out of Whitney Portal pack station.
Fred Moore and his string of mules leaving Whitney Portal.	Jerry the packer at Whitney Portal.

*The Pack Train*
Into the High Sierras
By Rena Elizabeth Moore

The sun seemed blurred and weary,
Though the day had just begun,
And the air was tense and sultry,
With a stillness over-run.
The packs were made and ballanced,
Two by two were set about ....
Then the mules were brought and loaded,
Each pack tied on good and stout.

The rider stood beside his mount,
Buckling spurs, adjusting chaps;
Looking at the gathering clouds ...
He'd need a slicker too, perhaps.
Then, horse and rider in the lead,
Five pack mules in tow,
The pack train swung onto the trail,
Sandy and steep, they took it slow.

Miles and miles of sandy climb,
Now and then a level stretch ....
Muscles straining, heaves and groans
Coming from each loaded wretch.
Leather creaking, sharp hooves clinking,
Loose rock rolling down the grade ....
Then a rest, each tired beast puffing
In a spot of shade .....

Sultry ... tense ... the sun grew dim,
And far-off thunder roared ...
Pine-birds chirped, wild with fright,
As overhead they soared.
More clouds gather in the sky,
Shutting out the sun ......
Wind came up and lightening flashed
And thunder crackled like a gun .......

The rider doned his slicker
And pulled his big hat low;
He didn't mind the weather's change,
He'd learned to face it long ago.
The heavens seemed to burst with light
As flashes ripped the sky .....
Then came the rain, in torrents,
And the wind became a sigh ......

The water filled each crevice o'er
And down the gullies rushed .....
The pack train swerved along a stream
Where swollen waters gushed .....
The rain beat down about an hour,
And then it came no more ....
With pungent smell of grateful earth,
The thunder storm was o'er .......



*Monache Tour ... 1925*
By Rena Moore

*The Cattle Drive ... 1920*
By Rena Moore

*Pack Trains ... 1930*
By Rena Moore

Johnnie the packer.	Fred Moore leading a string of mules. - circa 1928
*Mt. Whitney Outpost Camp* Located in Ibex Park on the trail to the top of Mt. Whitney, Outpost Camp offers meals and sleeping accommodations for $7.50 per person, per day, or $50.00 per week. This camp has long been a regular stopping place for those who climb Mt. Whitney, (The Highest moiuntain in the United States), and For those who enjoy a quiet place to spend a Few days during the heat of the summer. A short horseback ride from Whitney Portal brings you to Ibex Meadow and Mt. Whitney Outpost Camp. Here you can fish in nearby Lone Pine and Mirror Lakes, hike to the top of Mt. Whitney or just plain rest. You will find the beds clean and comfortable and the meals superbly cooked.	Ibex Meadow on the Mt. Whitney Trail just below Mirror Lake (Photo courtesy Josh McNair - CaliforniaThroughMyLens.com)
Fred Moore packing up in Lone Pine, CA - circa 1940	Fred Moore packing up in Lone Pine, CA - circa 1940

*The Cowboy* By Rena Elizabeth Moore He had the walk of a cowboy, He had a cowboy's drawl, He had the ways of a cowboy, That's what he was after all. He was the happiest in the saddle, On a cattle drive, or a round-up. Or leading a mountain packtrain, Hoping nothing else would interrupt. This was his life for many years, And no one else could match him, Any who tried to out-do him, Found their chances very slim. He was an expert packer, Often using the *Aparejo... When the load was a bulky one, And far I had to go. His roping was always better, Than any of the rest... He could ride the meanest broncos, And outrode the country's best. He could outride all his buddies, The champion of his kind... He wasn't too good at singing, But, the cattle did not mind. And yet, his friends were many, He had relatives galore... They all thought him the very best, This Cowboy was "Fred Moore."

Fred Moore shoeing. - circa 1920