[size=large]Our final weekend camping on the Bay of Conception started a little rough, taking multiple attempts before we settled on a beach we wanted to camp at. In the end, it all really came down to the number of people occupying the other beaches as we both just wanted a quiet place to call our own for a few days. Playa Buenaventura to the rescue![/size] [size=large]
Playa Buenaventura is… was… a hotel and restaurant on the beach. The hotel appears to have been closed for some time (though we did see people staying in a room) and the restaurant was clearly a cool spot to hang but also doesn’t appear to have be open for business very often. That recipe made for a perfect solitude-soup, as no one else was camped here , leaving the entire place to ourselves… except for the wind.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]The wind blew hard for the two days we were here, effectively bunkering us both inside the van for that time. Not that it stopped us from doing what we wanted – to just lay around and read and enjoy each other’s company of a cocktail or two. One may think that two days stuck inside a van might cause cabin fever, and for some that may be true, but not for me. I don’t mind it in the slightest, and I didn’t get the feeling Kerri was too bothered either.[/size] [size=large]
On Monday we moved on. North about an hour past Mulege was our destination. Another beach that was said to have camping where we could have a cell connection for the work week. All that proved to be true, but the place was a bust. Shabby, abandoned, and gross… so we continued driving North. San Ignacio was our new hopeful spot to spend the week, but it too did not work out; with a cell signal, but no data. Oh I would have loved to have spent a week in this tiny town. In the end, we kept driving North until we reached Guerrero Negro, where we settled into the same place we always stay (because there really are no options) in the gravel parking lot of a hotel. Bah![/size]
[size=large]Finally, the work week complete, we were able to get out of Guerroro Negro and start an adventure that we had no clue even existed in Baja until recently. Seriously, there is a mountain with a peak over 10,000 feet. On that mountain is a National Park – Sierra de San Pedro Mártir National Park – where there are a few California Condors, camping under pine trees, and even snow![/size] [size=large]
But first we had to get there, which turned out not to be the easiest feat. First, we had to navigate the massively pot-hole’d stretch of road between Guerroro Negro and San Quintín. This roughly 200 mile stretch is what is now left of the “fuel gap” (where there were no fuel stations). Fuel was not an issue for us thanks to Big Blue’s massive 35 gallon tank, but the pot holes finally got us. Even though they were much less harsh than memory was telling me, the knockout punch came right at the end with a couple stealth pot holes. Big ones too, long after we passed all the others, and sitting in the shadows at the top of a rise so they could not be seen until the very last second. Too late to respond when traveling at 50 MPH in an old Dodge van, so we hit them hard. Not once, but thrice! We hadn’t noticed it until the another hour down the road, but Big Blue was crying a whole new sound from the left-front wheel area…[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]Too late in the day to do anything about it, we had camped that night not too far off the main highway but back on the ocean beaches. The dogs loved the wide open space after the week being chained up in a gravel lot, and Kerri was all too pleased to smell real ocean air. I took this time to crawl under the van to see if anything stood out… nothing did. So we ate dinner, had a few drinks while having a great night talking with each other about anything and everything but politics.[/size] [size=large]
The following morning, after returning to the highway and pointing North, the sound returned… louder. Before leaving town I pulled over and began taking the left front wheel off to find the culprit, and even before I could loosen all the the lugs I was able to spot it; the upper ball joint on the left front was punched right out of it’s perch which allowed all the grease to ooze out and expose the joint to the sand and salty air. It was done, and it was done in by one of those final pot holes. Nothing else could have caused it, and we were extremely lucky to have not continued on as it would have eventually been a catastrophic failure. All right, I may have exaggerated the blog title a bit, but it could have been real bad if it weren’t for my trusty van…[/size]
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Once again, Big Blue has proven to be very helpful in where he chooses to have these little breakdowns. Only a mile up the road was an American chain auto parts store. I walked in with my service manual opened to the page about ball joints, pointed to the part I needed, and the guy behind the counter handed me a box with the part I needed. An hour and a half later, and $60 lighter in the wallet (parts and tools needed for the job), Big Blue had a brand new ball joint installed and we were back on the road, heading for that National Park and some pine trees. I love this van![/size]
[size=large]In our last episode Tim and Kerri have a near fatal breakdown (insert sarcasm here) but later that fateful day we drove the 100 or so miles deep into the Baja mountains (yes, there are mountains here) to visit Sierra de San Pedro Mártir National Park (yes, Mexico apparently has National Parks too). More than anything, the visit to the mountains – and it’s National Park – was all about the serious case of ‘nomadness’ that had infected us in recent weeks. We needed a change from the daily routine of beautiful beach camping and margaritas, and only pine trees and elevation would do.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]8,200 feet of elevation to be exact! It was the largest climb up (and back down) that Big Blue has ever done in a single day. From sea-level to 8000+ feet is greater than going from the Bay Area in California over the Sierras in Interstate-80 into Nevada. It was quite a shock to our bodies, but I was all over that cool-but-thin mountain air, and so were the dogs who played in their first snow in a long time – Moose totally loves snow, always has.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]When we arrived, nearly all camp sites were in use by families eating lunch. No one seemed to have a tent out, or even a vehicle capable of being slept in. So, after a quick auto tour of the park to burn a few hours of the day we returned to a campground near the entrance of the park and found no one there. Literally, everyone inside the park at 2PM was gone by 5PM. A three hour (or more) drive home will do that I guess, and locals don’t seem to camp. The campground barely met the definition of a campground in America, with no trees cut away and rough dirt roads to access any camping ‘site’. It actually made it better with the lack of asphalt and clear-cut spaces – more nature, less man made crap. Camping under some trees was one of the biggest reason we were here… did I mention that already?[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]Although the park map boasts a few hiking trails, we simply could not find any. There were dirt roads that led off into the forests (which we drove a few), but the hiking trails seemed to be non-existent. We saw a few single-track trails, but they literally mirrored the dirt roads – why bother? As much as we would have liked to do some hiking, we only really got a few hundred yards of walking on a dirt road over our one night stay.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]All in all there was not a huge amount to see in the park. The few California Condors in the park never appeared for us, and the Observatory at the top of the mountain was gated off. Still, a night in the mountains was just what we needed. I can’t wait to get into more of them in coming months.[/size]
[size=large]We spent our final week in Baja in nearly the exact same spot we spent our first week in Baja a month and a half ago – just South of Ensenada perched on top a rocky coast line. It was uneventful for the most part, though the weather really toyed with us. Nearly every day was windy, which seems to be the norm for this part of the coast, but by Thursday the sun disappeared behind clouds and never reappeared, and on Friday night the rain started. Saturday morning we rolled out of camp, and started our final 100 miles of Mexican roadway on our way back to America.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]We could have continued driving North and been back in America before the work week, but there was one final weekend planned in the wine-country along our way. The hope was to hit a nice restaurant (by American standards even) along this path and wait out the weekend traffic crossing the border. Only 18 miles outside of Ensenada we pulled over at a campground run by a school for deaf children. It happened to be only 1 mile from our first dinner reservation, and had hot showers, which we both needed. And good timing as well, as we would be sitting in a crowded restaurant in a few hours eating a dinner that neither of us really enjoyed.[/size] [size=large]
The food was Ok, which isn’t saying much considering the price tag, but it was more the atmosphere and the patrons that really blew it for us. Communal seating on large picnic tables in a single room… normally not a negative in my mind, but in this case the tables were so large it required one to shout to talk to the person across from them. Add to it that the walls were made of stone and wood, the acoustics of the room required even more shouting. Add to all the noise that the patrons in here with us were of the exact type that I go out of my way to try to avoid; the fake-well-off snobs all trying to show off how well-off and snobby they are to other fake-well-off snobs. Very L.A. and just about the worst of humanity in my opinion.[/size] [size=large]
The evening at the restaurant that night sealed the deal for us. By the time we paid for our meal, neither of us wanted to stick around another day just for another meal at a winery restaurant full of those types. Instead, we woke before the sun, packed up our things, and started the final hour drive to the town of Tecate where we would hit the border station by 7AM – just in time to beat the crowds crossing the border. Ten minutes later we were in ‘Merica (just barely, as it was California) and on our was into a big city strip mall to do laundry, restock on groceries, and eat at In-N-Out burger. It feels good to be back.[/size]
[size=large]In our final week of Baja, we changed our minds from the original plan of going to Disneyland for an adult trip to the fun-land to avoiding all that is Southern California. We have talked about revisiting Hwy 395, which we have not done together as a couple, and it seemed like a great route to take on our way up the Sierras. So, we high-tailed it up from the border, past the San Diego and Los Angeles areas, and started our Northward journey.[/size] [size=large]
Considering just how many miles I’ve driven around the West, specifically around the South West, it is weird to say the following statement, but here goes; I’ve never been there. The statement was true for the Trona Pinnacles, a National Conservation area out in the middle of the desert between Bakersfield and Death Valley, until now. Kerri had never been here either so it was an easy choice for our first week back in the states.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]The Trona Pinnacles is a surreal area taken straight from some landscape on Mars. A large area of Tufa spires in an old dry lake bed, it is miles off a main highway passing through towns of little importance to the rest of the world. It takes a determined person to trek the long washboard dirt road to get out here – which Big Blue did at breakneck speed. Initially we found a few others in vans and larger RVs out here as well, but by the start of our work week the wind started up and seemed to have scared all the other campers away. That’s all great for us, as we have the entire area to ourselves![/size] [size=large]
We are taking this time to slowly re-acclimate to life north of the border, where there is free camping, half-n-half, and turning the left knob on a sink actually does something. We got to go on a hike around the pinnacles on our first day here – our first hike since October back in Moab. The 3.3 miles we hiked felt great, not only for us but Moose, who ran all over the desert like a mad dog for 90 minutes. He slept well after that. Byron stayed back and slept well while we hiked. That’s his jam nowadays – sleep.[/size]
[size=large]We moved into the town of Ridgecrest for our final work day in the Trona area. The plan was to hit the community center for a proper shower (it had been a while) then hang out at the park for the work hours before peeling off to the local Moose Lodge for the night. Everything sounded perfect until we were told that the showers at the community center opened at 2 PM. A Denny’s breakfast substituted before settling in for the day beside the local sports complex and dog park (bonus!). The wind was still kickin’ pretty good so we all stayed inside and just got shit done until we could call it a day. Only then could we roll across town to Walmart and resupply… so we did. It’s crazy how easy it is to blow an hour or two in that place. It is like some worm hole or something.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]It was after leaving Walmart on Friday night that the sound returned. See, when we drove into Trona Pinnacles earlier in the week a familiar “eee-ooo-eeee-ooo” sound emanated from under the van. I had a good ideal what it might be but wasn’t 100% sure. The sound was not noticeable on our short drive into town, but after Walmart it had come back but more like a “wiggawiggawigga” when I accelerated from a stop. My van-repair-spider-senses were going crazy but I had not settled on what the next step was going to be. The evening at the Moose Lodge was uneventful and we pulled out early to start the weekend-proper, my van-senses still at peak perkiness.[/size] [size=large]
A half hour up our favorite highway and we were pulling into our first sight seeing stop of the day. Just a mile or so off the main ribbon of asphalt, under an ancient volcano cinder cone, we parked Big Blue among a lava field. Here all four of us set out on a hike into another out-of-this-world place, to a fossil of a waterfall. It sounds so boring, but when you add that the waterfall flowed over and down a lava field, it adds a bit of baddass to the whole thing. Only a 1/4 mile hike in each direction even Byron was able to partake in the adventure which seemed to really start his day off on the right foot.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]We moved on a short while later. First to the North, further up Highway 395, then a short jaunt East nearing the Western edge of Death Valley. Out here, in the middle of exactly no-where is the town of Darwin. Though touted as a ghost town it still has a few dozen inhabitants sprinkled around the area, mostly in pretty modern buildings and with extremely modern vehicles parked here and there. It had very much a Terlingua, Texas feel to the place – more of an intentionally ghost artist community than anything else.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]After a stroll around the town we were taking a drive up a lone dirt road that dead ended miles further out into no where. This is where Big Blue shines, the mini-adventures off the beaten path that most others do not travel. There was nothing out at the end of the road but a lone fire pit made of rocks and a small 4WD trail along side a wash. We all got out and walked for a short while and again Byron joined us with the biggest doggy-smile you can imagine.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]With that exploration done, we piled into the van and set off to meet up with another dirt that would have taken us the remainder of our day to navigate. With all of the miles in BLM land, and our day’s activities complete, we figured we would just find a nice spot to call ours somewhere along this twisted path through the desert. It was here that the noise under Big Blue returned and my inner repair-guy finally solidified what the problem is (thanks to Kerri taking the wheel while I laid beside the van). A universal joint that was on it’s last leg! If it failed, Big Blue would come to a dead halt exactly there and no way to move.[/size] [size=large]
I’ve been here before. Many times actually. A universal joint failure on a regularly traveled highway is a huge pain in the butt, but a universal joint failure a few dozen miles down an untraveled dirt road could be deadly. I mean that in a very literal way since my abilities to walk out of the desert is severely hampered by my aging body (that bastard). We opted to change our plans and go back to the main highway where it was not a life-or-death matter at least. The simple repair would have to wait for the next real town, but – once again – not only was it a simple job, the parts are cheap and easy to come by.[/size] [size=large]
So, a few miles on the other side of Darwin – at 4800 feet elevation – was a welcoming dirt road that we took a mile or so into the BLM land and settled into our own patch of desert for the remainder of the day. The distant Sierra mountains, one cold-ass breeze, and a few snow flakes were our only company for the rest of the day. The dogs and I played some serious fetch while Kerri took off on a tour of all three Joshua Trees in our view, none of where were anywhere nearby. I worried about here way the heck out there. Not only was the sun quite low in the sky, she was only wearing slippers, and she is really (REALLY) bad at knowing which direction she should be going… I mean really bad. Add to it that Big Blue is the exact same color as all of his surroundings, she could get lost in a flat desert only a few hundred yards away. Honestly, I was in full panic when I lost sight of her. I could see the headlines now, “Homeless guy who lives in a van kills girl in desert…”. Great! There was no way a jury was going to believe just how bad she is at navigating. By the simple fact that I am writing this you should know she that returned eventually.[/size] [size=large]
We slept through a 20-degree night and woke to frosty windows and the gentle purr of the Mr Buddy heater. All was good! Kerri is learning the way of a Tramp in real fashion.[/size] [size=large]
cool story. I know more then a few people who have no clue how to do back country navigation. glad she made it back. I always carry a spare U-joint. just cuz. highdesertranger
I remember younger days with road side emergency repairs. When the needed part was some how magically available. Never a ball joint. But one sticks in my mind; seized wheel bearing on a cold dark highway. one lone light down the way, "auto parts". Thanks for all these posts.
[size=large]Once again I say it, “I’ve never been there”. The Alabama Hills, right off my second favorite stretch of California road (my first being any stretch leading out of the state) and within spittin’ distance of one of my favorite little towns in the West – Lone Pine. The Alabama Hills would be our home for the coming work week (or so we thought) as we explored Hwy 395 together for the first time as a couple. Arriving on Sunday meant many of the main-street businesses (including the auto parts store) were closed so we stopped in only for a shower and some groceries and spent went into those hills to find a spot we could call our own. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds; now that all these boondocking locations are so easily found online they are all much more crowded than they used to be a few years back. I’m partially to blame for this, as I have posted all my boondocking locations publicly as well. Eventually we found our spot, leveled out, and got to our relaxing and picture taking. We even set out for a quick hike to Mobius Arch, since we did basically park the van at one of the trails leading right out to the arch.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]We broke camp on Monday morning to head back into town for the auto parts we needed for the failing universal joint issue with us. The parts not on hand (a rarity) I had to wait until the next morning to pick them up. That meant we had to break camp again on Tuesday morning for a run into town, just to pickup the parts. Knowing that, we could change our attitude on where we would stay that night – no cell signal needed. So that day, and night, we buried ourselves deep in the boulder field in the center of the Alabama Hills. for a more intimate visit of the area. Another hike lead us up top of and around the boulder field, the dogs joining in on the fun of the hike this time.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]Tuesday morning we packed up and ran back into town to the community park. I have spend some time in this park before and knew it as a safe spot to hang out for the work hours. It also happened to be directly across the street from the auto parts store. Here Kerri could continue working while I picked up the parts and completed the repairs right there in the parking lot. And that is exactly how it all happened, and without any real issues. Big Blue got two new universal joints installed and I got a Carl’s Jr lunch (also right next door) to boot.[/size] [size=large]
We thought we would head back up into the hills, but Kerri suggested we move on to roads less traveled. See, she had been doing a bit of scouting on Google Maps of the roads nearby. Not 15 minutes up the highway was a spot that she felt we had a good chance of finding a camping location to finish off the work week (more on that in the next post). She is learning how to be a van-dweller quickly, and just how enjoyable being a tramp can be. We can get up and move any time we want, with minimal effort. We can scout down roads too tight for the Airstream, and when we find a spot we can just hit the brakes, turn the key, and get right to the camping… as opposed to going back to the trailer, hitching up, towing, unhitching, then camping. Life as a Van Tramp (or ‘Van Hussy’, as she calls herself) is the best![/size]
A great tour of Southern locals. I do understand your adversity to hanging out in So Cal. Also good that a u-joint solved the problem.
Enjoying the photos too. Happy Trails.
[size=large]We only had to drive a few minutes from the Alabama Hills to find a much needed slice of adventure, solitude, and independence – Independence, California. The tiny little town, barely a dozen blocks long along Highway 395, had just enough in it to be cozy without being a tourist trap. An established campground waits for us within walking distance of town, but we decided to take it a step further.[/size] [size=large]
Kerri’s new-found Tramping skills brought us up a road that we may have completely overlooked without. A few miles outside of town is all BLM or National Forest so we pointed Big Blue’s nose down that road and went for a little scouting adventure. Big Blue has gotten quite accustomed to traveling dirt roads in recent years, and the larger All Terrain tires make it even easier. So we take just about all the dirt roads we want in search of that next spot to call home for a few days. We scouted the first place Kerri had marked, which was just fine, but out in the open. We moved on to the next, which was just fine as well and even had some trees to camp near. We almost settled for it, but decided to check one more road only a 100 yards away… and this time the porridge was just right![/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]A family of leafless trees standing beside a creek not four feet wide and four inches deep – Byron’s favorite type of steam. Here we could position Big Blue right up to the creek which overlooked the small town 1500 feet below us. Surrounded by snow capped peaks we enjoyed the simple nature away from the main highway. Kerri was seduced by a tall Jefferey Pine not far away… literally ‘pining’ about it the entire time we were camped there (Ha! See what I did there?).[/size] [size=large]
Normally we would not put the van – and all it’s solar panels – under a tree, but the next two days called for rain and no sun anyway so it really didn’t matter. We knew we would have to conserve our battery to survive until Friday morning where the sun was scheduled to make a return. That is two full work days, with laptops blazing, along with the fridge running 24 hours each of the days, all without any substantial incoming power. I could always crank up the big V8 engine on the van to give us a boost, but we wanted the challenge and this was the first time we could seriously test our ability to survive multiple days without sunlight on the new Lithium battery. I had some generic math in my head that said we could make it to Friday morning, but only just. We would have a 5% margin only. If I was wrong the battery would fall below 20% capacity – a number Kerri has researched as a “don’t go below” figure. In the end it turned out not to be a problem at all. By Thursday at noon we knew we were safe on the battery power. In fact, we could have gone a third day without the sun if we really needed, and we never cranked up the van’s motor at all.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]Friday morning we were running out of water in our tank anyway, so we coasted down the hill, into town, and refilled our water stores at the local gas station and took up camp at the campground just outside of town. The sun made an appearance as scheduled and by the end of the work day we had our highest incoming solar day ever (1.6 kilowatts). That battery just drinks in the solar at a pace I just can not comprehend. It is amazing how much easier this thing makes life. So much so that Kerri and I both agree it takes away some of the challenge and excitement of full time van-life.[/size] [size=large]
I took the time on Friday to finish up a few repairs on Big Blue; replacing a few vacuum hoses so our heater/vent ducting works properly again and rewired the driving lights back to the knob on the dash after finding the problem with those. Big Blue was back to 100% with no issues to resolve. We then strolled into town on Friday night to visit a local restaurant in celebration of a perfect week all on our own in the wild. One might think that after two full days of all four of us being trapped inside the same 90 square feet that we would have a serious case of cabin fever. Not at all as it turned out. There is ample room inside the van for each of us to have our own space. It really is amazing that two adults and two dogs can spend so much time in a space smaller than your average household bedroom and still come out alive.[/size] [size=large] [/size]
I love the Owens Valley. it used to be one of my favorite spots but has gotten overrun lately. hey look at the court house at Independence, does it look familiar? it was where they brought Charles Mason when they first arrested him and his followers at Barkers Ranch outside of Death Valley. there is old news footage of them walking him up the steps of that court house. highdesertranger
Me too, hdr. When I finally made the trip out there I liked it so much that after I made the rounds of Yosemite and Sequoia NP's I came back for a couple more days.
[size=medium]Saturday came and we moved on from our nice little adventure in Independence. In a rare case of back-tracking, we actually returned to Lone Pine to take care of the weekly chores of laundry and a shower (each, of course) before turning back to the North towards Bishop. It didn’t take long to drive from Lone Pine to Bishop but by the time we did it was well into the afternoon. We drove up to Volcanic Tablelands (sounds cool huh?) to stay a night in the public lands North of Bishop.
It has been more than three years since I’ve been to Bishop, and I miss it. Moose and I have spend a night on the Tablelands before (just weeks before meeting Kerri) but Kerri had not. I really enjoyed the time here – or so I thought, but reading my old post says otherwise – and wanted Kerri to see what the area had to offer. Unfortunately the place was crowded, as is everywhere that I can provide a web-URL for nowadays. We had to settle for a less-then-epic spot to camp for the night… not what we are accustomed too, but it will do.
The following morning we ventured further North to explore some of the sights in the area; primarily a couple spots with petroglyphs. Red Canyon Petroglyphs and Chalfant Petroglyphs areas are both up the Fish Slough road – a long, but well graded gravel ribbon cut through the wasteland of the volcanic desert. Moose was able to join us for the walks around each area while Byron got more beauty sleep in. The wind was really kicking a fit, but we had a good time anyway. For the morning anyway, it felt like old times with the desert all our own. We saw very few people during our time exploring the area.
That afternoon we stopped for lunch at the famous Bishop Burger Barn to stuff ourselves silly. The dogs did not join us, to their dismay. There wasn’t much that was going to be happening after that so we headed out to scout a few dirt roads for a place to stay the work week. We had a list of tourist-things to do the next day, so a good night’s sleep was in need. Neither of us are good in tourist environments, so fingers crossed… [/size]
[size=medium]We tried the whole tourist thing. Really, we did. It involved going into town, walking the main strip, and even trying to see what bad pastries I could shove into my face-hole from the famous Schat’s Bakery. The sheer number of people crammed into the building, all browsing baked goods, talking, moving about… whew! The end result was Kerri running from the building, screaming, and leaving me behind to fend for myself. Not the first time she has left me to fight off a bear by myself by the way.
Crowds man… just not my thing… nor Kerri’s. So, instead of the crowded town of Bishop we drove North out of town to spend some time at the Laws Railroad Museum where we took a few hours to tour all the old buildings, mining equipment, and train of the old west. This was much more out speed.
That afternoon we started the search for a place to call home for the week. As luck would have it, just a few miles outside of town is always a dirt road leading out to public land with our names on it. This one gave us a spectacular view of Bishop below us as well as miles and miles of the peaks of the Sierra Mountains and all the desert we could ever want. A half-mile or so from the nearest pavement and down a short rise kept us private from the normal folks. Just how we like it. [img=881x0]https://www.van-tramp.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/IMG_3149-1024x576.jpg[/img][img=881x0]https://www.van-tramp.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/IMG_3151-1024x576.jpg[/img]
Immediately setting out to explore the nearby area we stumbled onto an old mine shaft as well as some of it’s abandoned equipment. This one really serenaded a man to come in and explore the dark tunnel – which I did, only to find a pool of water blocking the path any further then a few yards in. Dangerous looking it was! There turned out to be a few mines in the area within hiking distance, but we only ventured out to the two nearest ones.
While Kerri and I worked away in the van, Moose and Byron had free reign of the surrounding area. Moose would take off out the door of the van at 7am and would not return until 8pm except for some snacks and water. He spent each day exploring every single bush in a 1000 foot radius of Big Blue for lizards, snakes, birds, or rabbits. He never stopped. He had the time of his life right there while Byron did more sleeping in his new fold-out dog house or gnawing on bones that he found somewhere near us.[/size]
[size=medium]When we left Bishop, we only had an hours drive North to get to our next week-long destination. Sure, we could have just driven those miles and be done with it, but where is the adventure in that? So, we took the long way to get there – by way of Nevada!
Once again we found ourselves backtracking a bit, just a few miles into Big Pine where we showered at the local gas station slash hardware store. All freshened up, we took off East, up the White Mountain Range to go visit the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Kerri had been here before, and I came close to coming all the way out way back, but did not make the full drive. This time it was my turn to experience a new place with Kerri showing me around. Since we had no need for Internet for the next few days, we knew we would be camping up top, near the Bristlecones so we scouted as we drove up to the 9000 ft high Visitor’s Center (closed).
After a short hike among these ancient trees (and snow) we started back down the road to a dirt path that was earmarked for us to explore for camping that night. We saw dozens of great places to camp, complete with fire rings and tables! We didn’t know at the time, but we basically just came in the back entrance of the established campground up there. So, we stayed a night at 8500 feet (our highest night in 2018 so far) among a grove of very buffed Juniper trees. We expected some serious cold that night being so high up, but in the end our fears were unwarranted. Overnight temps were very mild and so was the morning. Scouting Google Maps a day before, I had spotted an interesting site back on Highway 168 so we set off to find out what it is. An array of satellite dishes is all I could see on the maps. We drove out the dirt road leading us off the main highway only to come to a closed gate a short distance later. This was all public land, and there were no signs saying we could not enter, but we would have to do so on foot. A short half-mile walk later and we were at the GPS coordinates, but there was nothing around. We explored the area but found that the site must have been shut down and restored back to how nature intended it. Afterward we fond out that it was the site of the Combined Array for Research in Millimeter-wave Astronomy (CARMA) – a 23-antenna to study the origins of planets, stars and galaxies, as well as to measure the distortions in the cosmic microwave background caused by clusters of galaxies formed soon after the big bang. It was shut down back in 2015. It was nice to see how thoroughly they cleaned up the area I must admit. The only trace that anything was ever up here was the open spaces filled with this very alien-like weed.
We kept driving East, eventually crossing into Nevada where we stopped in for a quick lunch in Dyer, NV at the only dive bar in the tiny town. We had no idea where we were going to camp that night, but some green areas on the map ahead of us gave us some ideas. Worst case scenario is that we would make it all the way back into Mammoth Lakes on Highway 395 and stay there an extra day. Kerri came up with a grand idea though.
We have been trying to book us a night or two at Benton Hot Springs the past few times we have been along the 395 corridor, but every time we can not get a reservation. We tried just last week and failed too, but since we would be passing right through the town anyway we decided to pop in to see if there was a cancellation. When Kerri asked she was informed that a reservation was canceled only 5 minutes before we arrived. Only one minute later another couple showed up asking about a cancellation as well. Literally, there was a 6 minute window in which we could have grabbed up this cancellation and we stumbled right into it. Next thing we new we were tub-side of our own private hot spring which we spent hours in that night. It was a perfect way to top off the long day’s driving and exploring.
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[size=medium]We were not far out of Benton Hot Springs when we saw a dirt road leading off the asphalt and into a very cool looking canyon. Kerri and I both wanted to go see what was beyond, so we did just that and a pleasant surprise it was. It helps a lot when the road itself is not so washboard that it drives us away. It also helps that the road led off the established path and well into an area of nothing. Just my kinda place.
Miles into the hills of desert landscape adventures await. It didn’t take long to start finding old relics of times past. An abandoned cabin was explored, then another, then an old mine (Lone Star Mine, says Kerri). We even found another half-dozen or so boondocking sites, some with some major Verizon signal which we placed into our private stash for later days. We spent a few hours happily meandering about the desert hills of the Inyo National Forest before finally rejoining the highway (and civilization) in search of another set of dirt and gravel roads that Kerri had earmarked for reconnoiter.
It took a little bit of driving around to find it, but we eventually came upon our final stop of our weekend – a wild hot spring miles in the middle of no where. We arrived in the mid afternoon and set Big Blue off to a side area in the parking circle as dozens of others were coming and going throughout the day. The hot spring is known well enough to the locals that it gets it’s fair share of use. Not to worry, we had the ability to wait all day thanks to the comforts of Big Blue. Eventually, as the sun began to set, the crowds had dissipated and we both suited up for another evening in a hot spring. We had company this time, but sometimes that is exactly what is called for. Kerri and I soaked under the backdrop of the Sierra’s and socialized for hours, until the moon rose into the sky to light the way back to the van (we forgot to bring a flashlight, duh).
The following morning, well below freezing, everyone left but us. We had the place to ourselves, but chose not to take another dip in fear of how cold it would be to get back out. We set out to explore more dirt roads before starting our work-week. It didn’t take long for us to find this place (below) which checked all the boxes for an epic boondocking spot, so we settled in. The river beside us was a few miles down river from a boiling hot spring. This meant the waters were in a the ‘heated pool’ temperature range. If we had been so inclined, it would have been a nice bath if nothing else. Kerri says this spot may be her favorite of all time. Surely in the top-5 for me. [/size]
[size=medium]We have been spending more and more of our time down some random dirt road, and I have to say it suits us just fine. Just a little bit of research on the maps gives us all sorts of ideas on roads that might lead us somewhere cool, and the overnight adventure in the Mono Lake area proved to be just that.
Sure, we have both been here before, numerous times and even recently, but Mono Lake was a good stop over for us this night. However, instead of going to the same old locations where we have stayed in the past, we moved on to try unknown areas and roads. Kerri has gotten quite good at finding them on her mapping software on the phone, so much so that I do not even add my input to her ideas anymore. I just roll out in the direction she tells me and whamo! we find a kickass place every time.
So we ended up spending a night a few miles down a dirt road in the shadow of an ancient volcanic cinder cone with a view of Mono Lake. The dogs got to run around, Kerri and I got to hike around and explore before settling in for a mean game of Yahtzee over cocktails (it’s a thing with us), and all with complete and total solitude.
The following morning, on our way out of the area, we came across a historic ranch that caught our attention for a bit. We walked around and read the signage that the BLM offices provided to educate ourselves on the area. It was hard not to day dream of being the family that lives out here all by ourselves, working the ranch and being happy. Sometimes I feel I was born in the wrong century.
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[size=medium]We originally wanted to spend the week outside of Virginia City in Nevada and take the Interstate over the Sierra’s when the time came to make that jump, but Virginia City just did not suit us. Instead we decided to keep heading North on Highway 395 and go see more of an area neither of us have explored. Again, Kerri had a few places marked on her map as possible places to stay the week, and after an initial bust – only due to no Internet signal – we came across a nice little spot beside a creek and off the main highway enough to have some privacy. So we thought.
It was a nice spot but the small road we were camped only a 100 feet off actually got busy each day for a short period, and there was always the occasional car passing by. Not a huge deal except for the dogs who kept running right into the dang road. A main part we camp/live out in the middle of public land is so the dogs can run around, and that was not going to happen here. So, after two nights we left to find another spot (and a trash can since we now had way too much trash thanks to Kerri cleaning up the camping area).
That morning, before work, we moved another 30 minutes North up the highway. Here we drove up a road leading into the nearby National Forest. Once the road turned to dirt, we began exploring and easily found a spot. We moved on anyway, just to see what was further up the road, and came across a nice little campground that seems to be abandoned by the Forest Service. We decided to stay here for the sole reason that it has a vault toilet, which makes our daily life just that much easier.
The snow came for a day, which was beautiful, and we got to give a serious test to the new insulation in the van walls as well as the Mr Buddy heater. Although we stayed bundled up in a few extra layers of clothing through out those two days, the comfort level was quite high. During our three days numerous other campers came and went. Most only stayed for a single night, either as they were just passing through the area or possibly the snow scared them away. Either way, we had a nice quiet work week to finish off our drive up the Eastern Sierras.
Moose and I did get out on the final day for a five-mile hike around the area. It has been a long time since Moose and I had some bonding time, and he truly loves to hike off-leash. Those five miles (for me) was twice as many for Moose, but he was still ready for more when we got back to the van an hour and a half later. I was not… it’s been a while, did I mention that already?
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