Travelogue

Soquel Creek flowing through Capitola BeachI was really excited about going to Capitola. Seeing a friend's Facebook post of the brightly colored houses on Capitola Beach made me think of the colorful fishermen’s homes on the island of Burano in Italy.

When researching these bright multi-colored houses, I found out that they are actually part of the Capitola Venetian Hotel, which is built right on the sand of Capitola Beach. I immediately booked a night in one with a view of the beach.

So not only were we going to see these houses, but we were going to stay in one. I was psyched!

But first, a little history of Capitola:

Herb enjoying Capitola BeachCapitola likes to bill itself as the oldest seaside resort on the West Coast. Even if this is not exactly true, it has been a destination for vacationers for over 140 years and has a rather interesting history.

The history of Capitola begins in 1865, when a German immigrant named Frederick Hihn who came to California during the Gold Rush, bought the land that is now Capitola Village from a rancho grantee named Martina Castro.

Capitola WharfA few years later, he leased a parcel of land near the wharf to S. A. Hall. He planned to settle down as a farmer, but his daughter had different ideas. Instead, she suggested that he set up a tent camp along the beach.

Like a good father, he did as his daughter suggested, and Camp Capitola welcomed its first guests in the summer of 1874 - the basis for its claim as the oldest seaside resort in the West. By 1884, Capitola had become the destination of thousands of summer visitors.

There’s one other bit of Capitola history that I can’t pass up sharing - a bird attack in Capitola was actually the inspiration for Alfred Hitchcock’s movie “The Birds.”

Lovely evening in CapitolaIn August of 1961, Capitola residents awoke to hordes of seabirds dive-bombing their homes, crashing into cars, and spewing half-digested anchovies over the town.

At the time, Alfred Hitchcock was living a few miles away. He called the local newspaper for details. He worked them into his new movie, which he set at Bodega Bay, about a hundred miles up the coast.

It took several decades for scientists to figure out the cause of these birds’ erratic behavior. They now believe the culprit was domoic acid, a neurotoxin produced by certain types of algae blooms, which causes disorientation and seizures in marine animals.

Shark Fin CoveToday, fortunately, that toxin is closely monitored for, so we had no angry birds diving-bombing us on the beach to worry about.
Okay, back to the present.

Our stay at the Capitola Venetian Hotel exceeded expectations. The room was very nicely furnished and we did have a view over the tops of the next row of colorful houses of the beach and the wharf.

The weather had much improved, so after a walk to the end of the Capitola Wharf, we grabbed our beach cheers and spent a very pleasant couple of hours on Capitola Beach. It really is a unique place.

Railroad tracks by Shark Fin CoveOur room was so nice that instead of dining outdoors on a cool evening, we got takeout food from the My Tai Beach Restaurant and ate it in our room looking over the beach.
What a wonderful stop.

On the way home the following day, we stopped once more at Shark Fin Cove in Davenport, which we had scouted out on our way south. If you are paying attention at all while driving on the Pacific Coast Highway, you can’t miss this giant rock shark fin rising from the water.

We pulled into the small dirt pullout on the west side of the road. From there we looked down at a beautiful cove. In between us and the cove was a fairly steep path down to a railroad track and then two choices - right to an even steeper path down to the beach, and left to an overlook.

Shark Fin CoveNot sure if I could maneuver myself down to either, I sent Herb ahead and told him to take photos.

I hate being left behind, so I gradually worked my way down the first steep path to the railroad tracks. Herb was kind of surprised to see me.

We went left towards the overlook which provided a stunning view of the cove and some tiny people playing on the beach. I kept urging Herb to go down to the beach, but he said we would do that on a future visit when I was more mobile.

This was definitely a place we would return to.

Travelogue

Bluff Trail - James V. Fitzgerald Marine ReserveOur drive down the Pacific Coast Highway took us over the Golden Gate Bridge and through San Francisco and the town of Pacifica before arriving at our first stop, the James V. Fitzgerald Marine Reserve in the small coastal community of Moss Beach.

The Reserve is considered to be one of the best tide pooling locations in all of California. Unfortunately, our visit wasn’t timed with low tide, when the rocky reef and its long, creviced tide pools are exposed. Tidepooling wouldn’t have been that easy for me anyway in my orthopedic boot, so it was just as well.

Cypress Trail - James V. Fitzgerald Marine ReserveHowever, we did walk a short distance on the Bluff Trail through a lovely grove of Monterey Cypress trees to a stunning overlook on top of the bluffs

The weather was quite gray and shrouded in clouds, but that actually added to the atmospherics of the grove.

From there we continued along Route 1 through Half Moon Bay to a stunning section of the coast in the town of Pescadero. There was lots to see in Pescadero, but not many places to stay. Fortunately, I had reserved a cute little cottage at the Pescadora Creek Inn.

Determined to reach the tafoni on Pebble BeachThe weather wasn’t great - damp and cool - so we decided to check in first, and wait for the weather to improve.

The cottage was lovely with a cozy gas fireplace, a claw-footed bathtub, and decorated with period antiques. It was very cozy and comfortable. So, we lit the fireplace and took a quick nap in the feather bed, before heading out to explore the area.

Our first stop was Pebble Beach, a small cove with a pebbly coarse sand beach - hence the name. The multi-colored pebbles are so pretty that the park actually has a large sign warning not to remove the pebbles. I later realized I unknowingly smuggled some in the opening in my boot.

Tide Pools at Pebble BeachI managed to hobble my way down the stairs leading to the south end of the cove where the tide pools are. It was low tide, so we were in luck. With my stupid boot, I wasn’t able to get too close, but I did manage to find a tiny little red starfish.

However, what this beach is most well known for, and the reason we wanted to come here is that it is one of the few places on the coast that has tafoni - uniquely textured sandstone with holes and honeycomb-like structures. The other place we have seen these intriguing rocks is Salt Point State Park along the Sonoma Coast.

Tafoni on Pebble BeachThe tafoni was about another 100 yards north on the beach, requiring me to hobble over wet pebbly sand and unlevel rocks. With my orthopedic boots, trekking poles, and determined face, I must have been quite a sight, but I did eventually get there and it was worth it!

There are several theories as to how these amazing rocks were formed, but the most common one is salt weathering. According to this theory, saltwater collects on the surface of the permeable sandstone from the nearby waves and mist. As the saltwater evaporates, the salt it leaves behind works its way into the rock pores, where it crystallizes and pushes the pores open further. Wind, rain, and tidal water also contribute to their weathering.

Tafoni on Pebble BeachI’m not sure if the tide or people did it, but many of the honeycomb openings were filled with the lovely multi-colored pebbles this beach is named for. It was like a curio cabinet.

After we got back up the stairs to the parking lot, we decided to walk south along the Arroyo de los Frijoles Trail along the bluff towards Bean Hollow State Beach, which is about a mile away. We decided to just walk as far as I felt able, well actually less than that as I had to get back.

Tide Pools along the Arroyo de los Frijoles TrailAt one point Herb went down a steep trail to an extensive set of tide pools. Unfortunately, I was unable to follow, but it was pretty cool photographing him from above.

The weather was still pretty lousy - mist and clouds - but we continued down the Pacific Coast Highway to Pigeon Point Lighthouse, just 4 miles further south.

We made the turn onto Pigeon Point Road and followed along the edge of the bluffs for about three quarters of a mile before stopping for a very nice view of the lighthouse, with lots and lots of wildflowers in the foreground.

Pigeon Point LighthouseFrom there we continued on to the parking lot for the lighthouse. At 115-feet tall, it is one of the tallest lighthouses in the United States. Before its construction in 1872, there were numerous shipwrecks along this rocky section of the coast. One of the ships that went down was the 175-foot clipper ship, the Carrier Pigeon, which was so close to completing its journey from Maine around Cape Horn to San Francisco before running around on some offshore rocks. I imagine that is where the lighthouse’s name came from.

Pigeon Point LighthouseThe lighthouse was first lit on November 15, 1872 using an 8,000 pound Fresnel lens, which has 1,008 prisms and stands 16 feet tall. The lighthouse was operated by the Coast Guard until 1995, when it was transferred to the California State Parks system. Today, the lighthouse is lit only once a year, usually in mid-November, and large crowds of photographers come to photograph its 24 radiating beams of light.

Today the old lighthouse staff housing buildings have been converted to a hostel run by Hosteling International. I wish we had known that when planning this trip as It would have been very fun to stay here.

From the lighthouse parking lot we took a short walk to a boardwalk that led out to the end of a point, overlooking a steep wildflower-covered ravine with the tall white lighthouse towering above. It was my favorite perspective of all.

There is one more good location to view the lighthouse favored by many photographers. It’s just a short 0.3-mile drive further down Highway 1 to a pullout on the west side of the road. A bride and groom had already beaten us to it.

It had been a very full day with many cool things to see. Now it was back to our cozy cottage at the Pescadero Creek Inn.

Travelogue

1996 ST1100Well,, it is a difficult choice to make for a person that has been riding a motorcycle since he got his license at 17, but I think I will give up riding on pavement for good.

I think the combination of being 66 years of age, the narrow twisty mountainous roads of the west, increased traffic, and a near high-side when an oblivious driver in a car cut me off has made the difficult choice clearer. Maybe I'll get a dual sport and ride with my boys in the eastern sierra around Bishop, just to keep the feel of two wheeled power between my legs.

Anyway, my baby needs to roam the country, and she has been sitting in a golf cart garage behind my desk making me feel guilty that she is not out exploring the world. She needs a new rider who will take her out for multiple 400 to 600 mile days in a row exploring the beauty of the country. Take her back east, up the Rockies, or maybe to Alaska.

I bought her new in 1996, when at age 40 and after a ten years without a bike, and with two new boys aged 4 and 2, I managed to convince Lolo that I could ride her safely and not risk certain death on the road. I bought this bike over the BMW because the power curve was so much smoother and linear. No need to shuffle gears to keep her hustling, she pulls easily in any gear you're in. With the upgraded alternator that the 1996 model had, running several heated jackets and heated grips is not a problem, and she kept us riding through the 12 months of the New Jersey weather.

She has gone down once at about 15 mph on her right side. It was winter, with temperatures in the 30's and I took her out on a downhill, decreasing radius turn about 1 mile from my garage. I had done this 1000's of times before, but this time I noticed a sheen on the turn which turned out to be spilt diesel fuel. It is true what they say about time stopping in times of stress. I remember vividly the angle of the bike increasing ever so slowly till I finally realized it was going to go down. I bruised my right butt cheek, but was able to get her back up, and continue my ride. The only evidence is a scrape on the metal tip over guard under the plastic which I replaced. Both mirror covers have slight cracks from driveway drops, but I have bought 2 new ones to replace them and they are included in the sale.

1996 ST1100At this point she has almost 46,000 highway miles, and is barely even broken in. The Honda water cooled V-4 can easily go to 200k miles with regular oil and fluid changes. As an adult driver, with testosterone fully in check, her tachometer has rarely seen much use above 4k rpm, but she will easily and smoothly power up from 1500 to the 8k redline.

She has safely and securely transported me from the tip of Maine, to the tip of Florida at Key West, and cross the country without the slightest incident.

I am an engineer of germanic descent, and have gotten intimate with her through the years in keeping all her bits and pieces in top shape. Carbs were balanced and tuned so she vibrates not a bit. Valve clearances too were fully in specification. Brake calipers were regularly lubed, pads replaced, and pistons and seals replaced as required. The radiator was flushed and brakes and clutch fluid bled regularly.

Her rear end has been lovingly lubed, erh, better make that her final drive pinion gear has been lovingly lubed with the Honda Moly 60 Grease every other year or whenever the rear wheel was removed.

She has had a steady diet of Mobil 1 10w-40, and the OEM oil filters.

To maximize safety, and comfort for long rides, I fitted her with every possible safety feature that I could find including:

• ST1100 Multi-Tour Sport Heli Bars
• BackOff-MC Rear Brake Light Modulator
• Kriss Starburst Headlight Modulator
• Throttlemeister Bar End Cruise Control
• GIVI Monokey E 460 Rear Luggage Rack and Case with backrest and brake light
• Hot Grips heated motorcycle grips with 2 High/Low Heat Positions
• Console Mounted Heat-Troller Rheostat and Socket for Gerbing Jacket Liner Medium36
• Clearview Windshield +6" high+ 2" each side
• OEM Windshield
• Alaskaleather Sheepskin seat pads, Rider and Passenger
• RKA Expandable Tank Bag
• RKA ST1100 Linerbags
• RAM Handlebar Mount for Cellphone or GPS
• Geza Gear Cover

Also included are maintenance and repair items including:

• Honda Common Service Manual
• Honda 1991-1996 ST1100 Service Manual
• Extra Plugs and Oil Filters
• Extra washers and O rings for rear end lubrication

1996 ST1100Tires were replaced at the start of my cross country trip in 2015, and except for the ride to the west coast, little extra miles were accumulated locally.

For less than the price of a modern mountain bike, you will be getting a classic Sport Touring Motorcycle, with legendary Honda reliability, that could easily take you cross the country tomorrow.

More images can be found at https://www.cross-country-trips.com/photo-albums/2015-cross-country-moto...

Cash Only Purchase. Asking $3,299 and a rider who will treat her well.

Serious inquiries should email me at herb@cross-country-trips.com

Thanks for reading this far. Let me know what you think!

Herb

Update as of 4/12/22 - after posting this ad on the local Craig's List I had two very interested parties and sold the bike to the first guy who responded. It was a difficult day for me, but I'm sure that I have made the right decision.

Travelogue

Day 1 - Saline Valley

Saline Valley Warm SpringsAfter leaving Bishop, we drove south on 395 to the town of Big Pine and made a left (east) onto State Highway 168. From there it was about 16 miles for the turnoff (on the right) onto the Saline Valley Road.

The turnoff for the Warm Springs can be easy to miss, so we reset our odometer so we could track our progress along the way. At exactly 32.7 miles (as our off-roading guide told us), we came to a big old truck tire on our left, making the turn onto Warm Springs Road.

Saline Valley rock artThe drive along Warm Springs Road was much rougher and sandier than the Saline Valley Road, as the Saline Valley Road is maintained and graded, but this one is not. Still, plenty of 2WD cars and even small motorhomes somehow make it through. Funny how motivational the thought of soaking in a beautiful palm oasis can be.

After about 4 miles into our bumpy drive to the Palm Spring Oasis, we came to a tall post with metal bats hanging from it - the infamous “Bat Pole” of Saline Valley.

At about 6.5 miles, we arrived at the first oasis, where we had camped on a previous visit. However, we decided to continue on another mile to the second oasis. This one tends to be less crowded and it has two beautiful pools - one out in the open, hot desert sun, and the other tucked under the shade of a palm tree.

Saline Valley rock artBoth oases are amazing – prettier and better maintained than most commercial hot springs. They were developed in the 60s, before Saline Valley became a part of Death Valley National Park, by a group of hippies who made a semi-permanent camp here – taming the wild springs into several concrete, rock, and tile soaking pools. The camp even had a leader named “Wizard.” When he passed away, “Lizard” took his place. You can’t make this stuff up.

Lolo participating in the rock artThere are even showers, with soap and shampoo supplied, to use before entering the pool. In addition, there is a fully stocked bathroom, with Costco size toilet paper packages, cleaning products, air fresheners, etc.

Plus, there is random artwork near the bathrooms - giant lizards, stick men, insects, spiral mazes, peace signs, and more made from the volcanic black and red rock that is scattered all about.

This place certainly felt more like a commune than part of a National Park. The only stress here is deciding whether to soak in the sunny or the shady pool.

Day 2 - Saline Valley - Cinder Cone Hike

Random car seat along the way to the Peace SignFrom the oasis, there is a very prominent red cinder cone about two miles east of the springs with a giant peace sign carved into it - also not done by the National Park Service, but rather the work of two hippies from San Francisco named Sunshine (of course) and Raymond (not as predictable) who were residents of the Valley in the 1960s.

In 1968, Sunshine decided to take a rake to the cinder cone, where she set about the herculean task of removing the surface red volcanic cinders and exposing the lighter-colored volcanic soil below to create a giant peace sign, which must be at least 100 feet in diameter.

Lolo on her way up to the Peace SignI have no idea how she could have possibly done this, as it is so huge that when you are near it, you can’t actually see that it is a peace sign. Hopefully, Raymond and some other friends helped her.

This peace sign was our hiking goal for the day. We headed to the first palm oasis, a little less than a mile away, before heading across the Valley towards the cinder cone. We didn’t get too far before we came upon a car seat, just sitting there in the middle of nowhere. Of course, we had to each sit in it to have our picture taken.

Peace and LoveFrom there we just kept walking toward the peace sign across the rocky terrain, which had dozens of washes and gullies running counter to the direction we were headed, which meant we had to constantly climb down one side and up the other of each of them. It seemed that no matter how long we walked, the cinder cone wasn’t getting any closer.

Finally, after about another 1.2 miles, we snuck up on it and began the very steep ¾-mile climb up its side to the peace sign. It was very hard, and part of the way, the peace sign disappeared behind it. When we finally got up to the peace sign, it was hard to tell it was one, because it was so huge.

Getting down the steep path was no piece of cake either as we slipped and slid on the loose scree. Then it was another mile back across the rocky washes to our palm oasis.

Final tally was 4.5 miles.

Time for a shower, soak, and bed.

Day 3 - Eureka Dunes

Eureka DunesThe next morning, we drove back north on the Saline Valley Road to the Big Pine Road. We then turned right (east) and drove for about 25 miles and then made a right onto South Eureka Road.

From there, it was another 10 miles along the 4WD South Eureka Road to the primitive campground near the base of the impressive Eureka Dunes. At 700 feet, it is the largest dune in California and the second largest in the entire U.S.

Eureka DunesThe campground was dry (no water or flush toilets) and had only four designated sites, but fortunately we were able to get one. If this campground is full, there are more dispersed campsites down the road, but it is kind of nice to have a picnic table and an outhouse.

Winter is a great time to visit the dunes, because even in the afternoon it is usually not too hot to hike them. Around 3:00 we set off towards the northern end of the dune and then started our slog up. I always find hiking in deep sand so grueling - 2 steps forward, 1 step back.

Eureka DunesHerb always sends me ahead, because he likes having a tiny person in his photo to give a sense of scale to this amazing expanse of dunes. In fact, unknown at the time, of course, he took a photo of me along one of the ridges, which went on to win best monochrome photo for 2021 in all of Northern California. That photo is now moving on to complete at the PSA (Photography Society of America) level.

There were portions of the hike that were so steep that I actually had to bend my body forward into the incline and use my hands as well. I looked like a gorilla. Meanwhile, each step on the really steep parts set off what looked like a river of sand, starting about 3 feet above us and continuing right below us for another dozen or so feet. The patterns we created were beautiful.

Eureka Dunes campsiteBesides the intriguing visual effect, we were also making the dunes “sing.” Singing sand dunes are quite rare and there are only about 40 of them in the entire world. The singing is really more of a booming sound, and it is triggered by an avalanching movement of sand.

It was actually a little tricky finding the summit, and I’m not actually sure that we ever did. as each time we climbed to the top of a ridge, we saw another one higher. We had reached the summit on a previous trip, but as we were now cutting into cocktail hour, we declared victory on the ridge below the summit and started the much more fun trek down. I felt like I was running down a hill of pudding. All in all, the hike was a very rewarding, and exhausting, 2.2 mile round-trip with some significant elevation gain.

Back at our campsite, we made dinner, sipped wine, and watched the sunset. As striking as the dunes are, an equally stunning view from our campsite was of the Last Chance Mountains, rising 700 feet from the Eureka Valley floor, brightly painted by the evening light.

Day 4 - Hidden Dunes and back to Bishop

Hidden DunesOn our way out on the South Eureka Road, we decided to take a detour and hike to the Hidden Dunes, the Eureka Dunes’ smaller and lesser-known brother. You don’t even see them when driving along the Eureka Valley Road, because they are obscured from view by a pair of small mountains.

After driving about 6 miles north from the Eureka Dunes (3.5 miles shy of getting back to the Death Valley / Big Pine Road), we turned left on a hard-to-find, unmarked side road - I think it might be named Dry Well Road - at the end of which was a small parking lot.

There was no defined trail, so we set out across a rocky, sandy flat continuously aiming ourselves towards the triangle of sand peeking out from the gap between the two dark, rocky mountains in the distance. We were able to make good time on the hard, firm surface, so it only took us about an hour to cover the 3 miles to the Gap.

Hidden DunesAs we rounded the corner, the dunes came out of hiding, seemingly out of nowhere. It was like a portal to another world.

We climbed up along the ridge on the first dune and followed its spine to the summit, probably about a 150 foot climb. It was so quiet and pristine, a whole different experience from visiting the other more popular dunes in the park. The only footprints to be found were our own.

The dune fields supposedly go on for 2.5 miles to the south, but we only had time for about ½ mile, before turning back.

Rather than go back down along a ridge, we ran playfully down its steep side, heels sinking in the sand to slow us down, all the while creating rivulets that began to “sing” as the friction of the sand grains sliding against each other sounded like the bass note of a pipe organ.

Hidden DunesOn a hike without a well-defined trail, you not only have to think about finding your destination, but also about finding your way back to your car. The old-fashioned way is to take note of a landmark before heading out too far, to which you will navigate back towards later. In the case of this hike, there was a white wellhead mound in the parking lot.

However, we usually rely on the Strava app (or Gaia), which records our hikes as they are happening (distance, speed, etc.) and marks our progress on a map - a more techy version of Hansel and Gretal’s breadcrumbs.

We easily found our way back to the car. The entire hike was 7.2 miles with 100-feet of elevation gain. Very worthwhile and highly recommended.

Now it was back to Bishop and another cozy night with Andrew and Celeste in their new home before heading back to Sonoma.

Travelogue

Home sweet homeAndrew and Celeste had made the decision last year to move from San Francisco to Bishop to try out a less-urban lifestyle in what is a world-class rock climbing destination. They are very dedicated rock climbers and were getting a bit tired of the trek from San Francisco to Yosemite every other weekend to climb, so they figured, why not move to a place where there was premier rock climbing practically in their backyard.

So, they found a great apartment in town, packed up their belongings, and headed over the mountains. They even were fortunate enough to be able to take their San Francisco jobs with them - and this was before Covid.

Now, a year later, they purchased a home, making that “temporary” lifestyle change more permanent. I had such mixed emotions about this - so happy for them that they were moving into their first home, and a bit sad that it was so far away.

Bishop and all of the Eastern Sierra is stunningly beautiful, so even though they are 6 ½ hours away from us now, it is not a hardship to go over the mountains to visit them. Their home is often the last stop on one of our road trips.

Not a bad neighborhoodSo, we spent days, along with Celeste’s parents and Tommy and Erin, moving Andrew and Celeste from their apartment to their new home, which was only two blocks away. We could literally carry some of their smaller things by foot.

Us and Celeste’s parents were getting so efficient at these moves that we considered going into business and calling ourselves Kapuna Movers. “Kapuna” is an Hawaiian word for elder or grandparent. Unfortunately, we weren’t grandparents yet, but we had the elder part down pat.

We did, however, have quite a scary incident, when Celeste’s dad had some chest pains. The Bishop hospital is not equipped with a team of cardiologists (or even “a” cardiologist) to handle possibly serious heart issues, so they did what they do for cases they are not equipped to handle - flew him to a hospital in Reno in a small plane with three paramedics on board. Fortunately, he was okay.

Once they were fully set up in their new home, Herb and I felt comfortable leaving to spend a few days in Death Valley.

Travelogue

Day 1 - Drive back to Bishop with a drive through the Alabama Hills and a stop at Copper Top BBQ for lunch

Mt. Whitney from Movie Flat RoadWe left Death Valley via State Highway 190 and 136, which brought us to US 395 in the town of Lone Pine. Our destination was Andrew and Celeste’s house in Bishop, but since they were working until 5:00, we had some time to kill.

So, rather than driving through Lone Pine on 395, we took a detour to Movie Flat Road, a 5.7-mile unpaved road through the Alabama Hills. For people our age, some of the scenery in the Hills might even be familiar from watching old Westerns. Hollywood filmmakers discovered this dramatic scenery back in the 1920s and filmed hundreds of movies (particularly westerns), TV shows, and commercials here, such as “How the West was Won,” “Rawhide,” and “Gunga Din.” And, it’s not just about old westerns. Plenty of current day movies, such as “Gladiator,” “Django Unchained,” and the new Lone Ranger have used the surrounding hills as a set as well.

Mobius Arch Loop TrailThe Alabama Hills is one of our favorite places in the Eastern Sierra. They are both unique and stunningly beautiful, with hundreds of oddly-shaped boulders and towers set against the backdrop of Mount Whitney (the tallest mountain in the continental U.S.).

We stopped to take the short 0.6-mile loop hike to the iconic Mobius Arch, where photographers love to photograph Mount Whitney framed by the arch. So do Instagram influencers, so we had to wait our turn while a girl in pink spandex mugged it up for the camera. Wasn’t much of a photo today because it was so cloudy that Mt. Whitney wasn’t even visible.

Continuing up 395, we stopped for lunch in Big Pine at the Copper Top BBQ, an extremely popular place ever since it somewhat inexplicably won the title on Yelp of “America’s Best Restaurant.”

Lolo in Mobius ArchWe have passed right by it so many times in the past, but this time we finally succumbed to the tempting smells emanating from its smoker and grill.

It’s a small roadside place with outdoor tables and nice views of the Sierra. Their specialties are tri-tip and pulled pork, so Herb and I ordered one of each and shared. It was really good, but I think America’s Best Restaurant is a bit of a stretch.

We made our traditional last stop before arriving at Andrew’s at the Bishop self-serve car wash, where we washed an incredible amount of dirt, sand, and splattered bugs off the 4Runner. At this point, the truck was cleaner than us.

Andrew and Celeste are great hosts. We had a nice home-cooked meal and a cozy evening telling them about our adventures in Death Valley.

Day 2 - Volcanic Tablelands

Andrew and Herb atop the Volcanic TablelandsThe next morning was a Saturday, their day for rock climbing. It was extremely windy out, so they decided to go to the Volcanic Tablelands rather than the Buttermilks because it would be more protected from the wind.

The Volcanic Tablelands is another one of Bishop’s popular bouldering areas. It’s located just north of Bishop in a stunning area where the floor of the Owens Valley rises abruptly, forming a 300 foot-high volcanic plateau. It’s quite beautiful and only 20 minutes from Andrew and Celeste’s house. Bishop truly is a climber’s paradise.

Andrew bouldering at the Happies in the Volcanic TablelandsIt was pretty cold out, so we told them to go ahead and we might meet them there later. Andrew called us and told us that it wasn’t too cold and that we should come. He incentivized us to come by telling us about a new way to get there that we would like.

Instead of driving to Chalk Hill Road and hiking from the climbers’ parking lot up a steep path to the top of the plateau (“tableland”), where they were climbing, he said there is actually a dirt road that would take us along the top of the plateau from which we could hike down to the climbing area. He said he would climb up to the road to greet us.

Celeste bouldering at the Happies in the Volcanic TablelandsTrue to his word, there he was a few miles out along this very infrequently traveled road. As we bounced along this terrific road. From there, he showed us the way down to the climbing area, where we hung out and watched them climb for awhile.

The rock in the Volcanic Tablelands is volcanic Bishop tuff, which is a solidified volcanic ash. It has a lot of sharp edges, pockets, and cracks, so after a few climbs their fingertips were pretty done.

After Herb and I climbed back to the top of the plateau, we continued along the road to see where it ended and why it was even there. After another mile or so, we came to a gate with a Beware of Dog sign and off in the distance was a beautiful home set against the snow-capped Sierra. What an incredible location for a home.

It was our last night in Bishop. I can definitely understand why Andrew and Celeste have made it their home.

Travelogue

Day 1 - Saline Valley

Saline Valley Warm Springs "bat pole"What makes the Eastern Sierra so special to us is the variety in topography and weather. You can pretty much dial in to whatever temperature you want just by driving 40 miles or so. After all, Badwater Basin, which claims some of the highest temperatures in the U.S. is only 80 miles as the crow flies from Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the Continental United States, with the cold temperatures that go with that elevation.

That’s what made the ability to ski one day, as we did yesterday at the beautiful June Lake Ski Area, and to be in Saline Valley Warm Springs of Death Valley the next, so intriguing.

Warm Springs soaking poolAfter leaving Bishop, we drove south on 395 to the town of Big Pine and made a left (east) onto State Highway 168. From there it was about 16 miles for the turnoff (on the right) onto the Saline Valley Road.

The turnoff for the Warm Springs can be easy to miss, so we reset our odometer so we could track our progress along the way. At exactly 32.7 miles (as our off-roading guide told us), we came to a big old truck tire on our left, making the turn onto Warm Springs Road.

The drive along Warm Springs Road was much rougher and sandier than the Saline Valley Road, as the Saline Valley Road is maintained and graded, but this one is not. Still, plenty of 2WD cars and even small motorhomes somehow make it through. Funny how motivational the thought of soaking in a beautiful palm oasis can be.

After about 4 miles into our bumpy drive to the Palm Spring Oasis, we came to a tall post with metal bats hanging from it - the infamous “Bat Pole” of Saline Valley.

The wild burros of Saline ValleyAt about 6.5 miles, we arrived at the first oasis, where we had camped on a previous visit. However, we decided to continue on another mile to the second oasis, which we had also been to before. This one tends to be less crowded and it has two beautiful pools - one out in the open, hot desert sun, and the other tucked under the shade of a palm tree.
Both oases are amazing – prettier and better maintained than most commercial hot springs. They were developed in the 60s, before Saline Valley became a part of Death Valley National Park, by a group of hippies who made a semi-permanent camp here – taming the wild springs into several concrete, rock, and tile soaking pools. The camp even had a leader named “Wizard.” When he passed away, “Lizard” took his place. You can’t make this stuff up.

Lolo enjoying a soak before the hikeThere are even showers, with soap and shampoo supplied, to use before entering the pool. In addition, there is a fully stocked bathroom, with Costco size toilet paper packages, cleaning products, air fresheners, etc.

This place certainly felt more like a commune than part of a National Park. The only stress here is deciding whether to soak in the sunny or the shady pool.

From the oasis, there is a very prominent red cinder cone about two miles east of the springs with a giant peace sign carved into it - also not done by the National Park Service, but rather the work of two hippies from San Francisco named Sunshine (of course) and Raymond (not as predictable) who were residents of the Valley in the 1960s.

In 1968, Sunshine decided to take a rake to the cinder cone, where she set about the herculean task of removing the surface red volcanic cinders and exposing the lighter-colored volcanic soil below to create a giant peace sign, which must be at least 100 feet in diameter.

Random car set; Peace sign mountain in distanceI have no idea how she could have possibly done this, as it is so huge that when you are near it, you can’t actually see that it is a peace sign. Hopefully, Raymond and some other friends helped her.

This peace sign was our hiking goal for the day, but first a quick soak in the sunny pool. That way we could have the cooling effects of evaporation on our hike, even though the temperature was a very comfortable 75 degrees.

We headed to the first palm oasis, a little less than a mile away, before heading across the Valley towards the cinder cone. We didn’t get too far before we came upon a car seat, just sitting there in the middle of nowhere. Of course, we had to each sit in it to have our picture taken.

Peace and Love is the theme hereFrom there we just kept walking toward the peace sign across the rocky terrain, which had dozens of washes and gullies running counter to the direction we were headed, which meant we had to constantly climb down one side and up the other of each of them. It seemed that no matter how long we walked, the cinder cone wasn’t getting any closer.
Finally, after about another 1.2 miles, we snuck up on it and began the very steep ¾-mile climb up its side to the peace sign. It was very hard, and part of the way, the peace sign disappeared behind it.

We did find a giant heart along the way, made in the same fashion of scraping off the surface red cinders to expose the lighter color below. When we finally got up to the peace sign, it was hard to tell it was one, because it was so huge.

Huge peace sign carved into the cinder coneGetting down the steep path was no piece of cake either as we slipped and slid on the loose scree. Then it was another mile back across the rocky washes to our palm oasis. Final tally was 4.5 miles.

My foot was aching quite a bit on the last mile. I’ve had a metatarsalgia (inflammation in the ball of the foot and bottom of the toes) in my left foot for the last couple of months, which means I am supposed to be resting it. I have trouble sitting still though, so it really hasn’t gotten any better, as I’ve pretty much continued going about my active life.

The steep climb and the volcanic rocks we had to walk over didn’t particularly help, but a soak in the hot spring and a glass of wine did a bit.

I promise I will rest it as soon as I get back home.

Day 2 - Saline Valley Sand Dunes, Salt Lake, and 4WD-drive to Hidden Valley

Saline Valley Sand DunesWe got up early to watch the sunrise before heading out for another day of off-road exploration.

When we got to the junction of Warm Springs and Saline Valley Roads, a man in purple-patterned long johns standing next to a fairly beat up camper on the side of the road called us over to see if we had jumper cables. He introduced himself as Miguelito and said that was his desert name. Hmm.. “Herb” seemed kind of nerdy in comparison.

Although we didn’t have jumper cables, Herbelito (which I now call him) did have a portable car jump starter. However, when Herb looked under the hood, he noticed stray wires sticking out of this guy's battery, which no longer seemed to be attached to anything. Miguelito had a grande problem. To satisfy him anyway, Herb tried to charge what was now as functional as a paper weight in terms of powering a vehicle.

Saline Valley Sand DunesMiguelito seemed quite unperturbed about the situation, making me think that this was not the first time he had landed himself in such a position. Eventually, a ranger came along so Miguelito sent us off with a big thank you for our efforts. We should be so relaxed under adversity.

A few miles south of the Warm Springs are the Saline Valley Sand Dunes, a pristine and rarely visited set of dunes with the 10,000-foot Inyo Mountains as a backdrop.

Herb loves photographing sand dunes and I often serve as his sense of scale by running way ahead of him along the ridge towards the top. I have served this role on four other dune complexes in Death Valley - Eureka (my biggest challenge as it rises almost 700 feet from the valley floor), Hidden Dunes, Mesquite Dunes, and the remote Ibex Dunes.

Saline Valley Sand DunesAfter this one, there is only one more in Death Valley to conquer - the even more remote Panamint Sand Dunes, which requires a 3.7-mile hike to just get to its base. We’ll have to see about that one.

The Saline Valley Dunes were an easy one for me - thankfully, because of my bad foot. They are much smaller and intimate than the other dunes in the park - the tallest being only about 40 feet, making them much easier to climb.

They are also very infrequently visited, so we were treated to pristine, virgin sand without another footprint in sight.

Salt LakeThe brown, tan, and black striated Inyo Mountains provided a wonderful backdrop and contrast to the lighter colored dunes.

No matter how many times we come to Death Valley, and I think this is our 10th visit, we always find something new to explore. It is afterall the largest National Park in the continental U.S. - almost as large as the state of Connecticut.

And the variety of landscape is amazing - from sand dunes, to palm oases, to hot springs, to colorful canyons, to volcanic craters, to waterfalls, and even a lake with a shore lined with salt crystals.

Remnants of salt mining on Salt LakeThat lake with the salt crystals, appropriately named Salt Lake, was next on our list, and located just a few miles south of the dunes on the Saline Valley Road.

While this lake is usually completely dry in summer, we were fortunate to be here in late Winter when it is large enough to reflect the mountains beyond it. We spent an enjoyable half hour wandering along the Shoreline Trail admiring the salt crystal patterns on its shoreline.

As in many places in Death Valley, no matter how remote they are, there is often the presence of man, mostly in the form of mining of some sort.

Sunrise in Hidden ValleyIn the early 1900s, salt was mined here, and transported by a Tramway over the Inyo Mountains to the Owens Valley. Some tramway towers and the structure across the lake are all that remain of what was once an active mining site.

After the Salt Lake we continued south on the Saline Valley Road. When we got to South Pass, rather than continuing on the Saline Valley Road to the asphalt of Stage Highway 190 in Panamint Springs, we made a hard left onto Hunter Mountain Road and continued north through the park towards Hidden Valley.

A sign at South Pass warned that travel on Hunter Mountain Road might be difficult because of snow, but since it was dated over 2 weeks ago, we decided to take a chance, assuming that whatever snow that had fallen had melted. We were right, and the drive up and over the 7,270-foot high Hunter Mountain, despite a few patches of snow and ice, went fine

Morning in Hidden ValleyIt was getting late and we wanted to find a place to camp for the night, so we skipped the side trip to the Goldbelt mining camp, which fortunately we had seen on a previous trip.

It gets dark so early this time of year, so we wanted to camp out in the openness of Hidden Valley rather than in the narrows of Lost Burro Gap, where we would buy ourselves at least an extra hour of light.

Hidden Valley is at an elevation of about 5,000 feet, which means two things: lots of Joshua trees and much cooler temperatures than in Saline Valley. When we woke up the next morning it was 28 degrees, something most people would be surprised at in Death Valley.

Day 3 Drive from Hidden Valley to Ubehebe Crater, Fall Canyon Hike, and Panamint Springs Resort

Teakettle JunctionIt was so so cold in the morning, which is the one thing I hate about camping in the 4Runner in winter. The other thing is that it gets dark so early, but that I can deal with by reading my Kindle
while tucked into my cozy bed. The cold is much worse.

We didn’t even make coffee, but rather turned the heat on and started driving. As it always does in the desert, we knew it would warm up in a few hours.

In about 5 miles we came to another one of Death Valley’s man-made attractions at Teakettle Junction, where the sign marking the junction of Racetrack and Hunter Mountain is strung with dozens of old teakettles.

Teakettle JunctionNo one quite knows how this tradition began, but rumor has it that kettles were hung to show early settlers that there was water nearby. Another theory is that it was considered good luck to leave a kettle with a message on or in it for fellow travelers to read. When the number of teakettles get to be too much, Rangers remove them, and the process begins all over again. This must have just happened, because all the kettles were dated 2022.

I thought it was quite clever how one traveler hung a single boot from the sign, which said, “Forgot the kettle, but left a boot.” Hope he has another pair.
All those teakettles got us thinking, so we pulled over and made ourselves some well-needed coffee.

We had the choice of continuing on to Ubehebe Crater and asphalt again, or a detour to the famous Death Valley Racetrack, where rocks mysteriously move across the dry lakebed on their own accord. We had watched those rocks sit still like rocks on the playa in past visits, so we continued on to Ubehebe Crater.

Ubehebe CraterAfter 160 miles of off-roading on bumpy roads, we were finally back on the pavement and saw other people for the first time in two days. We stopped at the rim of the Ubehebe Crater, a large volcanic crater 600 feet deep and half a mile across. We had hiked down to the bottom of it twice before, so we decided to pass on it this time. Besides, my foot wasn’t great so I had to ration my hiking miles - no repeats, just new stuff.

We really wanted to stay in a motel tonight, but Death Valley is very busy this time of year, so we weren’t sure if we would find anything. Of course, there’s no cell coverage in the Park, so we would just have to try our luck.

Fall Canyon hikeAs I mentioned, we were trying to do new things and see new places, so we decided to do the Fall Canyon hike off the Titus Canyon Road - the part before it becomes a one-way in the other direction.

From the parking lot, you can either hike into the mouth of Titus Canyon, or take the trail behind the restroom left (north) towards Fall Canyon. We had driven through Titus Canyon from Beatty on our last trip and it was phenomenal.

We followed the path from the restroom which runs northwest across alluvial fan deposits along the base of the Grapevine Mountains.

Fall Canyon hikeIn about a mile, we followed a steep rocky path down into a large wash and began heading right (east) up the drainage.

It wasn’t long before we entered the mouth of Fall Canyon, with its colorful striated walls of orange and black dolomite and limestone. As we progressed, the passage up the canyon got narrower and narrower.

Fall Canyon hikeAfter 3.4 miles, we came to a dead end, where a dryfall blocked any further progress up the canyon. We later learned that we had passed right by a possible bypass, about 50 feet short of the dryfall. However, the climb up the southern wall was recommended for expert climbers only. I was a little disappointed we had missed it, but my aching foot was thankful. So instead of scrambling up rocks, we hiked back from whence we came.

It was a very nice hike, often compared to the also spectacular Mosaic Canyon hike near Stovepipe Wells, which we had done last time. I think if I had to pick one it would be Mosaic Canyon in that you get to the good stuff much earlier in the hike, and the rocks were more colorful, although that might just have been a function of the lighting when we were there. In either case, you can’t go wrong with either.

Panamint Springs ResortTime to think about where to stay. The choices were Furnace Creek and Stovepipe Wells, which we had been to on our last visit, or something totally different - the Panamint Springs Resort, which would place us in an area of the park that we were less familiar with.

When we got a tiny bit of cell coverage near Stovepipe Well, we called and found out that they had a few cabins available, but we lost coverage before we could reserve one. We decided to head there anyway.

Our fellow resort guestsThroughout our travels, we have learned to not take the inclusion of the word “resort” in a motel’s name literally. However, all we needed was a clean room, a hot shower, and a place to eat in walking distance, which they did. An extra bonus was the wonderful views of the distant Panamint Sand Dunes and 11,000-foot-high Panamint Mountains. Plus, it put us in close proximity to two stellar hikes - Darwin Falls and the Panamint Dunes.

After a very welcome and highly needed shower, we took a glass of wine and sat at a little table in front of the cabins where the views of the dunes and the mountains were unobstructed.

We followed that with dinner on the outdoor patio of the Panamint Grill, which turned out to be very good.

I enjoyed our experience there. Its unpretentious, western-style atmosphere was very fitting for the location. You know what they say: When in Rome….

Day 4 - Darwin Falls hike, Panamint Sand Dunes Hike, and Camp at Dunes trailhead

Lower Darwin FallsThere are two great hikes from Panamint Springs - Darwin Falls and the Panamint Sand Dunes. We had a tough time deciding, so we chose to do both.

First, Darwin Falls. As I mentioned earlier, Death Valley is full of surprises, including an idyllic waterfall fed by a perennial creek, in the deep, lush narrows of Darwin Canyon. Sounded good to me.

We drove west on Highway 190 to a turnoff on the left (I think it was marked) for Darwin Falls. From the turnoff, it was a 2-mile drive on a gravel, bumpy road to the trailhead parking lot, where there were only two other cars.

Upper Darwin FallsFrom the parking lot, we set off on a well-traveled path along an open wash. After passing through two iron fences, the canyon began to narrow. At 0.8 miles, the rabbitbrush and indigo bush gave way to willows, cattails, and cottonwoods, and we began to hear the sound of flowing water. It was hard to believe we were in a desert.

In fact, the vegetation is so dense that we didn’t see the first waterfall (Lower Darwin Falls) until the last moment. It was lovely, plunging 20 feet onto a boulder where it splits into two channels, which flow into a shallow pool beneath. There was moss and maidenhair clinging to its wet walls, making it even prettier. This is the photo you usually see when googling Darwin Falls.

Most people turn around at this point, but the best was yet to come - Upper Darwin Falls. This part of the hike is not for everyone though, because it requires some rock climbing and route finding skills.

Darwin CanyonTo circumvent Lower Darwin Falls, we had to go back about 100 yards downstream and climb / scramble (Class 3 and 4) up a steep trail to ascend the side of the canyon. There were some areas with exposure that would not be fun for people afraid of heights. After climbing about 100 vertical feet in about a quarter of a mile, we reached a ledge with excellent views of the 60-foot unbroken cascade of Upper Darwin Falls, easily the most beautiful waterfall in the park.

This is an out-and-back hike, so we had to scramble back down to the Lower Falls - climbing down is always worse than up. It was only on the way down that we noticed how thick the vegetation is in the canyon. So much more lush and green than you would expect in Death Valley.

View of remote Panamint Sand Dunes from the Panamint Springs ResortVery worthwhile hike. Next stop, the Panamint Sand Dunes! But first, a big lunch at the Panamint Grill at the “resort” we stayed at last night. That way we could just make sandwiches after our hike tonight.

To get to the trailhead for the Dunes, we drove down a rough gravel road for 6 miles, passing dilapidated, rusted-out vehicles of past travelers that braved this road without the benefit of 4WD. We see rusted out old cars like this all over the desert. I give them credit for trying.

The trailhead parking area had only one car in it. Hopefully, it belonged to a day visitor, because we were planning to camp here tonight, because it would be dark by the time we returned.

Along the bumpy dirt road to the Panamint Sand Dunes trailheadJust to get to the dunes is a 3.7-mile hike and if you account for some time climbing up and playing on them, it would bring the total length of the hike (on sand) to more like 8 miles.

Herb had serious doubts whether this hike was wise or even doable with the foot issue I was having (metatarsalgia), but I was determined to go for it. It was our final planned hike in Death Valley, as well as the last of the 6 sand dunes complexes in the park to conquer. Is there such a thing as dune bagging?

I convinced him that I would be fine and that my foot would have plenty of time to rest on our way back to Bishop and then home.

The start of the trail to the distant Panamint dunesIt was already 1:15 and since sunset was 5:45 (actually earlier because of the surrounding mountains), we got ready to start. In the meantime, the owner of the one sole car in the parking lot returned. When I asked him if he made it to the dunes, he said, “No, no matter how long I walked, they didn’t seem to get any closer” - and that was after one hour out and one hour back.

We always use Strava to track our hikes, serving two very important purposes for me: 1) By constantly looking at the distance traveled, I can actually believe the dunes are getting closer, even if they don’t appear to, and 2) it shows the track we are taking on a map, so we can just follow our breadcrumbs back to the car. Also, it helps us look back later and remember what hikes we did. As we age, that becomes more and more important.

Finally there!Undaunted we set out across a rocky, sandy flat, populated mostly with creosote bushes. We’ve learned in past encounters with this bush that if you break a stem, it actually smells like creosote. Another fun fact is that it has the ability to secure more water for itself by inhibiting the growth of nearby plants - even other creosotes, so that is why they are dispersed the way they are. Seems like it is a “creosote eat creosote world” out in the desert. Good for us too, as there was plenty of space between them and us to hike through.

Eventually the rockier surface gave way to deeper sand, as we reached the sand apron surrounding the dunes. My foot appreciated the softer surface, but sand makes for slower progress. Plus, occasionally our feet would break through the top layer of sand and actually sink down several inches.

Lolo heading up the steep ridge of the Panamint Sand DunesAfter this happened a few times, we noticed it always occurred in places surrounded by deep holes of about 3 inches in diameter. Then it hit us. We were walking on top of some critters' homes and their tunnel system. Yikes! I picked up the pace.

Finally, the dunes really were getting closer and we knew now that we would make it. Most people don’t, and turn around well before getting to their base. Herb was so proud of me that he started referring to my foot as “the little bunion that could.”

Tough getting down the steep sandAt about 3.5 miles we started to climb along the ridge up to the summit of the highest dune. These were really steep. Nothing like the cute Saline Valley Dunes that we scampered up two days ago.

Herb sent me ahead because he likes taking photos of “Tiny Lolo” in large expanses. I don’t mind, because it is a very flattering photo.

Right on cue, as I was already struggling up the ridge, the wind picked up with a vengeance, blowing sand in our eyes and Herb’s camera, and making our progress very slow. My foot started to hurt quite a bit, so I sent Herb ahead, so I could take photos of “Tiny Herb.”

Time to make the 4-mile trek back to the carWe didn’t make it to the top of the tallest one, but we got pretty close. A later check on Strava showed that we had climbed 1,000 feet since we left the car, 250 of which were in the last quarter mile up the dune.

We kept an eye on the time, because we wanted to get back to the car before dark. I especially didn’t want to be hiking on top of critter tunnels in the dark.

We hustled and covered the 4 miles back in an hour and a half. My foot was killing me the last mile.

Camping at the Panamint Sand Dunes TrailheadOur car was still the only one in the small parking lot, so it looked like we would have it all to ourselves for the night, which was nice.

We were at a much lower elevation than our last camping at Hidden Valley, so it was warm enough to sit in our beach chairs and gaze at the stars. Death Valley National Park is an International Dark Sky Park because it has some of the darkest night skies in the U.S.

Herb stayed out longer, while I crawled into my cozy bed in the 4Runner and read my Kindle until I fell asleep. Sleeping was easy in a place so dark and quiet and peaceful.

Nice way to spend our last night in Death Valley.

Travelogue

Day 1 - Drive to Bishop stopping at Mono Lake along the way

Mono LakeAs I mentioned in the past, our son Andrew and his wife Celeste, moved from San Francisco to Bishop in 2019 to try out a less-urban lifestyle in what is a world-class rock climbing destination. They were fortunate enough to be able to take their San Francisco jobs with them - and this was before Covid.

Bishop and all of the Eastern Sierra is stunningly beautiful, so even though they are 6 ½ hours away from us now, it is not a hardship to go over the mountains to visit them. Their home is often the first or last stop on one of our road trips.

The drive on Highway 395, also known as the Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway, is probably one of the most beautiful drives in the U.S. The 133-mile stretch from the Nevada border to Bishop is loaded with scenic vistas, each more beautiful than the next.

Mono LakeOne of our favorites along the way is Mono Lake, so we couldn’t resist just driving by without taking a detour to the County Park to visit the “tufa castles”.

These tufas, which are composed of precipitated calcium carbonate, were formed over a period of thousands of years by the interaction of freshwater springs and the highly alkaline waters of Mono Lake.

Normally they would just be hidden beneath the water, but as lake levels dropped, these extraordinary-looking knobs, spires, and minarets became exposed, some of them rising as high as 30 feet above the surface—and they do look like castles. Most of the towers visible in the lake are from 200 to 900 years old. It is such a unique and otherworldly place and definitely worth a stop.

Then it was on to Andrew and Celeste’s for a great home-cooked meal followed by a cozy night by the wood burning stove, just enjoying each other’s company.

Day 2 - Climbing at the Buttermilks and Off-Roading to Warm Springs Road

The view atop a hill in the ButtermilksWhenever we go to Bishop, we know that climbing is going to be a big part of it. Plus, Bishop is a premier climbing destination with numerous areas to do all types of climbing - trad, sport, and bouldering. That’s why they moved here.

Herb was still out photographing, so Andrew and Celeste headed out ahead of us to the Buttermilks, their favorite climbing area and one of California’s premier bouldering destinations. It was just a half hour from their house, out along the bumpy, washboardy Buttermilk Road.

Bouldering in the ButtermilksBouldering is not Herb and my thing - we’re getting too old to take the kind of falls involved, even with a pile of crash pads below. So, for this portion of the day, we would just be spectators - not a bad thing as the landscape is amazing, with hundreds of huge boulders (or more technically, glacial erratics) strewn across a vast hillside with the snow-capped Sierra in the background.

Before meeting up with them, we passed the main climbing area and drove up a short, but very steep hill, to a wonderful panoramic view of the Buttermilks. 4WD is definitely recommended. This is the hill where we camped back in July of 2020 to watch the Neowise Comet.

Burn area from the Bishop Airport FireAfterwards we found them happily climbing with their friends. I really enjoy just hanging out, watching them climb, and enjoying the scenery.

On the way back, Herb and I decided to take a drive out on Warm Springs Road toward the White Mountains to see the damage done by the recent Bishop Airport fire, which had raged through the Owens Valley, east of 395 and towards the White Mountains.

Herb usually gets up every morning to drive out into the Owens Valley to photograph the early morning light. On the few mornings he had, he had not seen any signs of the fire. However, today we drove further south to Warm Springs Road and then further east towards the White Mountains and came across an area of burn. Fortunately, this was mostly a vegetation fire with no damage to structures. Still it was sad to see the burnt Cottonwoods and reeds along the river.

Burn area from the Bishop Airport fireThat night we went out to dinner at Andrew and Celeste’s favorite place, the Owens Valley Distillery, where they serve “Intelligently crafted, artisanal spirits." I think of myself as sort of a scholar, so I like my drinks intelligent.

Seriously, they serve phenomenal cocktails. I had a delicious rum cocktail called a Painkiller. There is also a rotating food truck there, and Andrew and Celeste seem to always know the chef - the beauty of small town living. The food was delicious, the cocktails inspiring, and it was within walking distance to their house - good thing, because these cocktails were potent.

After dinner, we went to Good Earth Yogurt on Main Street for wine and cheesecake. Gee, when did Bishop get so fancy?

Day 3 - Skiing at June Lake followed by the June Lake Brewery

Awesome views of Mono Lake at June Lake Ski AreaHerb and I hadn’t skied in almost 3 years, so I was kind of anxious to try it again. I’m not a particularly great skier (Herb is much better), but I do enjoy a good intermediate trail. Andrew had been raving for some time about the June Lake Mountain Ski Area and telling me how much I would love it - plenty of wide intermediate trails, no crowds, no hassle, and great views. Sounded good to me.

Equipment failure after first runWe had our own equipment, but they were a bit of antiques. I think they were probably at least 20 years old, and before the advent of shaped skis. The straight shape of my skis and its design, which literally looked like the wood flooring of a bowling alley lane, probably dated me a bit. Let’s just say I didn't exactly look like Susie “Chapstick.” That comment definitely dates me as well.

I was a little rusty and nervous, but on the first run everything seemed to be going fine and I was really enjoying myself. For some reason, at the very end, I felt a little less in control, but I definitely was feeling more confident.

Just before getting back on the chairlift for our second run, Herb pointed down at my right boot, which seemed to have cracked by the buckle nearest to the toe, exposing the orange padding inside.

Happy skiersAt first he questioned whether it was a big deal, but when I went to open it, more of it started to crack. This was not good, so Andrew said he would take me inside to rent a pair.

I took my now defunct boot off and carried somewhat embarrassingly behind him, as more and more pieces of it dropped in the snow, leaving a trail of “breadcrumbs” behind me. Oh, and the other boot started to crack as well.

I apologized to Andrew for taking time away from his skiing, but with a big grin, he informed me that this was the highlight of his day and proceeded to text Tommy photos of Mom’s first run.
We quickly got another pair of boots, I threw my old ones in the trash, and we were back out on the slopes in less than 20 minutes.

Apres ski at June Lake BreweryThe rest of the day went much smoother and we had a blast - 15 runs without any further incident.

Now, we were ready for the real event of the day that all of us had been looking forward to - some of us even more than skiing (you know who I’m talking about Celeste).

The June Lake Brewery is Andrew and Celeste’s weekend happy place, not just in winter, but all year round. This lovely little lakeside mountain village is known fondly as the ‘Switzerland of California’, because of its spectacular glacial lakes and high jagged mountain peaks.

It was already hopping (no pun intended) when we got there. They have a great selection of craft IPAs, which I love, and pilsners and wheat beers for Herb. There is also a food truck serving tasty Hawaiian soul food. It has a great apres-ski vibe.

Then it was back to the house for one more night before going on to Death Valley for a few days

Travelogue

Home Sweet Home