Did you guess correctly?

In the previous post I moaned about forests and mentioned two routes I might take to Oregon—less forested and more forested. I invited people to guess which route I's take.

Well, as I arrived in Susanville CA and was presented with the junction of 395 (less forested route) and 36 (more forested), I made the last-second choice of 36. And then 44, toward Lassen Volcanic National Park. Surprise, I actually enjoyed it.

Can’t see the scenery for the trees

The Woods

When I was a little kid, my friends and I would go play in the woods. The “woods” was really just the center of an oversized suburban block. But it was our Adventureland. Big trees, trails, hiding places—for ourselves and for our treasures. We could be free there. With a break for lunch.

Near Mount Hood

Sixty years later, being in the woods just, I don’t know, makes me a little claustrophobic. I’ve become accustomed to broad horizons, huge skies. In a forest I just see trees and small patches of sky. Only a handful of stars. And forget about glorious sunrises and sunsets. Mostly just trees. Hundreds and thousands and millions of trees. Quick, find me a clearing!

Ah, that’s better

Stuff can fall on me in the forest. Leaves and needles, cones, twigs, branches—even entire trees. Out in the open, it stops raining when it stops raining. In the forest water keeps dripping from the trees, usually onto my glasses or down my neck.

See, isn’t that even better?

Today I’m near Reno, with mountains to the west and desert to the east. I want to get to Redmond, Oregon. People usually go to the Pacific Northwest for the forests. I go there despite them. Well, an hour or so driving through the Cascades is nice, but then, you know, that’ll do me for quite a while. Unless I can get beside a good sized lake. Look! Open space! And sky!

I could get to Redmond by continuing up the east side of California and into the plains of central Oregon. There’s less forest that way. Or I could take one of several routes that’s pretty much forest all the way. Can you guess which is more likely?

Don’t plan a fuel stop in Bridgeport CA

These are the highest prices I’ve seen since I’ve been in California this year. About a dollar more than anywhere else.

Bridgeport is in the middle of nowhere and I wasn’t sure I had enough gas to get to the edge of somewhere. It turned out I would have, because even though there were a couple of moderate uphill grades ahead of me, most of it was downhill, coasting. Wheeeee!

The Eastern Sierra Tree Trout

Meanwhile, at Mammoth Mountain

Memorial Day has passed but the lifts are still open. Avid skiers and snowboarders are on the slopes even though the snow is... meh. I skied here once upon a time, back before my knees suggested I give up the sport.

In related news, the road beyond Mammoth Mountain, which leads to Minarets Overlook, Devil’s Postpile and several campgrounds, is still closed. But there are plentiful boondocking spots along Mammoth Scenic Loop, in the National Forest.

Taking the slow road

US-395 north out of Bishop, California, climbs up a long grade. It’s the type with warning signs to turn off your air conditioning to avoid engine overheating. There are stops with water barrels along the shoulder. Previous times I’ve made that schlep, the poor Rolling Steel Tent was howling away in second gear while vehicles with better power-to-weight ratios flew past.

However, I discovered an alternate route thanks to these things called “maps.” Two lane road, scarce traffic, a couple of switchbacks, and slightly more scenic. It connected back to 395 at the summit and it was easy cruising to my destination: a hot spring on public land where I could soak and camp.

I was a little apprehensive, because the flies were horrible the last time I was here. Not so this time. Just a few mosquitoes. Oh well. The full moon made up for it.

Heading out

After a week in the Lone Pine-Bishop corridor, it’s time to move on up the road. See you later, Mount Whitney.

A little rain coming

I saw no onions, and I wouldn't call it a valley

I suppose Onion Valley looks like a valley from the tops of the surrounding peaks. But having come up from the Owens Valley (a long, wide space between two mountain ranges) the place seemed more like a bowl.

Nonetheless, it’s an impressive place. Jagged ridges of bare stone, conifers, a campground and at least one waterfall.

The real drama, though, is the drive up. And down. It’s a steep road with a lot of switchbacks and few guardrails. But the Rolling Steel Tent made it up without overheating, and down without going off a cliff.

Happy camper

I’ve been dreading Memorial Day Weekend and the swarm of people it brings to the outdoors. But then I realized today is Thursday, not Friday. Woo, one more day!

Short hike for a long view

Clouds had started forming along the crest of the Sierras when I turned up Glacier Lodge Road, but I pressed onward. The road ends at a campground and trailhead. The tree canopy blocked most of the view, so I headed up the trail to see what I could see. The glacier, perhaps. Or a waterfall.

The trail rose a little, a gap opened in the trees, the clouds parted some and, ah, there we go.

The weather took pity on me

Almost there

Whining about low clouds and rain must have worked. I woke up to almost cloudless skies. I embraced the gift and headed up Highway 168 to Lake Sabrina, at about 9,000 feet.

A police car zoomed past me. Hmmm, what was that about? Well, you know those falling rock signs? A boulder the size of a car had come down, burying itself near the right shoulder of the road. Cones, flares and flashing lights, but the road was open. The road narrows after the campground and continues to the dam and boat launch.

I’m glad I went

The air was crisp but not too cold and, as you can see, the water was glassy. There were a handful of anglers fishing from shore. I wished I had a canoe.

The weather said, "Not at this time"

I had been studying maps and satellite views of the Eastern Sierras. “Look at all these roads into interesting canyons and up into the mountains.” The roads were paved and led sometimes to trailheads, sometimes to campgrounds, sometimes to lakes, sometimes to all three. And some of them became unpaved roads over passes to the west side. “Why hadn’t I noticed these before?”

Somewhere like this?

I made a plan to check out Horseshoe Meadow Road from Lone Pine, Onion Valley Road from Independence, Glacier Lodge Road from Big Pine, and Highway 168 from Bishop.

Or maybe like this?

But clouds have been hanging around and hanging low—at about 9,000 feet. I’d be driving up into the clouds or at least have clouds blocking the view.

So I put the plan on hold relocated to the Volcanic Tablelands just north of Bishop instead. I’ll hang here a few days and see what the weather decides to do. As if to validate my change of plans, it rained a little this evening.

See, I'm not the only one

It bugs me when one big rig pulls out to pass one going just a hair slower, and both are going way slower than other traffic. Yes, I know there are reasons for this, but AAAAaaaaaargh!

Then I came across the photo below. It helps to know I’m not alone.

Moved a little

I love camping at Alabama Hills, but it’s almost impossible for me to get a useable cell signal. So each day I drive to where I can get a 4G Verizon signal or use wifi. For example, right now I’m by the city park. Yesterday I was at the BLM information signs between Lone Pine and Movie Road.

When I return to Alabama Hills I have the choice of returning to where I was (if someone hasn’t taken it) or finding a different spot. So yesterday I went for variety.

It was fairly secluded, on a dead end loop. And there was a great view. But it turned out to be right by a popular foot trail with people out on a nice Sunday afternoon.

“Hi, how ya doin’?”

“Hi, how ya doin’?”

“Hi, how ya doin’?”

“Hi, how ya doin’?”

“Hi, how ya doin’?”

I can take only so much neighborliness, folks.