Monday, September 25, 2017

The Sawtooths, Rainier, and the Sierras: Aug. & Sept., 2017 -- Part IV – The Eastern Sierra

(Remember that you can click on the photos to see a slideshow, and then hit "escape" to get back to the text. Also, a note on the photo credits: as always, both Felice and I took these shots, and many of my shots resulted from her suggestions. I do the photo editing using Lightroom; my goal is to reproduce just what we saw, as faithfully as possible.)

(Also, please note that the fonts on this particular post are messed up -- the blog software is acting up, and someday I will figure out how to weed out the bad code. Sorry for the inconvenience!)


Monday, September 4: The heat wave showed no signs of breaking; although the nights were pleasantly cool, the hikes were not. So we decided to leave the Desolation Wilderness area. Only one problem: which way to go when we reached the bottom of the hill at the intersection with Highway 50? We could go left and then spend some high-altitude time in the Eastern Sierra. Or we could go right, do some bike riding on the river trail in Sacramento, and hunt for ripe blackberries. It all depended on the air quality in the Eastern Sierra.

We hitched up and got to the bottom of the mountain and fired up Felice's marvelous iPhone: turn left for the Eastern Sierra! Only one more problem: there was so much Labor Day traffic streaming down Highway 50 from Tahoe that it took us a full 10 minutes to wait for a brief break in traffic so that we could make our left turn.

A few hours later, we were happily ensconced in one of our favorite high-altitude boondocking sites above Mono Lake. After getting all set up, we took a walk as a late afternoon thunderstorm gathered over Kavanaugh Ridge. Note the celebratory sweatshirts – at last, the temperature was in the low 60s, which was a huge relief:



That night, the moon was almost full, lighting up the clouds and the trailer:



Tuesday, September 5: I got up early to do some stretching and caught sunrise – that's Venus in the top center, and that's the eastern shoreline of Mono Lake in the lower right:



Unfortunately, this shot can't quite convey the smell of sagebrush and pine before dawn on a summer morning:



To beat the heat, we headed up to Virginia Lakes. Along the way, we passed my favorite road sign:



There were still quite a few wildflowers, which was surprising for September:





And there was still plenty of snow, left over from last season, in the shady areas on the north sides of the mountains. In this shot, Black Mountain is on the left and the trail's summit is in the middle, with reddish Excelsior Mountain peeking up behind the ridge:



The summit was very windy (as usual), which was delightful. We took this "wide shot" with the aid of our radio-controlled shutter trigger. The tripod was weighted down with rocks -- please do not ask how I learned this trick:



The snowmelt pond at the summit was still going strong, complete with a twenty-foot-thick snowbank -- I'm in the center of the shot, where the snowfield tapers off to a mere seven feet:



Before we headed down, Felice climbed the shoulder of Black Mountain:



Imagine this whole valley full of glacial ice – what a sight that would have been! Geologists say that Mono Lake was hundreds of feet deep and was choked with icebergs:



Even on a barren talus slope, the purple penstemon were still waving in the breeze:



Wednesday, September 6: Since the weather was cloudy and cooler, we went to Lundy Canyon, which is at a lower elevation – not great for a hot day, but just fine in the right conditions. We were delighted to see so many wildflowers so late in the season:



The cascades at the top of the canyon were booming as if it were June, not September:






We had some fun with the slow-motion features on the iPhone and the GoPro:


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The wildflowers were enjoying the spray from the falls:







Thursday, September 7: We pulled up stakes and headed south, but not very far. We stopped at Rock Creek Canyon (leaving the trailer at Tom’s Place for the day). As always, the Little Lakes area was spectacular:





By now, we were expecting late-season wildflowers, and we were not disappointed:








The spiky purple flowers in the front row of that shot are Pacific mountain onions. They smell just like garlic -- really wonderful if you like garlic, and who doesn't?  Supposedly, the bulbs are edible.

We made it to the Gem Lakes – no impassable snowbanks this time, unlike the last time we were here:



Note the stripes in the wall behind us -- we were high enough into the Sierra that we had risen above the granite and were into the older metamorphic "roof rock" that had been pushed up by the rise of the younger igneous rock.

On the way down, the stripes in the headwall above Gem Lakes were very vivid:



That rock formation always reminds me of marble halvah, a Middle Eastern sesame and chocolate dessert:



So, once we got down the hill, this was the plan: drive to Bishop, do a little marketing, gas up, grab a calzone (a rare treat!), and head up Highway 168 into the Bishop Creek area to snag an unreserved campsite. Sure, it would be dark by that time, but we knew the area well, and we could easily set up our campsite with our headlamps. Off we went. Market, check. Gas, check. Calzone, check. We drove up toward Big Trees Campground.

It was so dark that we could not see any of the campground signs, but no problem. The iHikeGPS app on Felice’s iPhone would let us know when to turn off. Sure enough, we got to the turnoff. There was a yellow highway sign showing the “T” intersection for the roadway. We turned, knowing from past experience that the road down into the campground was long and bumpy. The GPS app showed that we were on exactly the right road. No problem.

We were a little surprised when we soon came to a deep sandy patch in the road, but we instantly had it all figured out – the sand had washed down during a recent thunderstorm, and the forest service had not had time to clear it off. No problem. I shifted into “4WD low” and we powered through the sand and back onto clear pavement, still heading down.
We kept going. The bushes did not look well-maintained. OK -- the forest service is understaffed. No problem. We kept going down. The pavement came to another sandy patch. Wait -- this did not look right – it looked like the road was going to go off a cliff?! Felice got out and walked ahead. Yep. A small cliff, but a cliff.
Problem.

I got out and surveyed the situation. The road had been washed out by a flood and had dead-ended into a tiny small cul-de-sac. There was no feasible way to back the trailer up, all the way up a steep and long and narrow and sandy road. We had to turn the whole rig completely around in a space roughly as long as the truck and the trailer combined, in the pitch dark.

Problem.
So we sat in the truck and gobbled the calzone. (I must say that I did not enjoy it very much – so much for our rare treat.) Felice strapped on her headlamp, and we fired up the walkie-talkies. (Remember that it was completely black – our usual hand-signals were useless.) Very slowly, very carefully, never going over the cliff, we backed and forthed for at least a half hour (45 minutes?) in the pitch dark, gaining a few degrees of rotation each time. 

This was the RV equivalent of two people exchanging clothes in a phone booth (remember phone booths?), with one hand tied behind our backs and all four sets of shoelaces tied together. Not impossible, but not easy or quick.  In total darkness.

I am forced to admit, though, that it was kind of fun. We worked as a team. Felice talked me through each maneuver – “Three feet, two feet, one foot, stop. Now forward, wheels to the right . . . .” No problem.

What a relief to finally get pointed in the right direction! (Yes, it's an intentionally split infinitive. Where else to effectively place the adverb?) We rolled slowly back to the highway, through the deep sand, and found the real entrance to Big Trees Campground, fifty yards up the road.

We later determined that the phony road was indeed the former entrance to the campground but had washed out some time ago. The forest service (or Inyo County? Or CalTrans?) had neglected to put a “Dead End” sign on this now-useless stub of a road. And the GPS app had not been updated to show the new access road. In retrospect, our antenna should have gone up when we came to the deep sandy patch; but by that time we were already committed and could not have turned around anyway.

Getting a site at Big Trees was anticlimactic – there were plenty of vacancies, and it took us very little time to set up the trailer, headlamps and all.

We went back the next day (without the trailer, of course) to see the dead end in daylight and to take some photos.  This shot is a little out of focus, but Felice (blue shirt) is standing on a boulder mid-way down the little cliff on the right side – note the tiny pad of dirt that we had to use for maneuvering. For scale, the pavement is about ten feet wide. The truck and trailer combined are about 35 feet long:



In this shot, I am standing right on the edge of that little pad:



Friday, September 8: We slept late, after all the excitement of the night before. We headed to South Lake and made it up to Long Lake in a leisurely way:







Saturday, September 9: We posed behind the trailer on the bank of the creek, displaying our “catch” – two massive laundry bags:



2 comments:

Ski3pin said...

Thanks again at sharing your genuine joy spending time in the mountains. All these places are familiar terrain for us but made new with your perspective. Thank you for inviting us to come along with you. Fun!

Travels with Yoly said...

You're a better man than I oh Gunga Din :-) Some trailer skills ya got there brother ! Reminds me why slide in truck campers have a place in this world :-)