Leaving the Crowds Behind for a Magical World Along the Lake

Saturday morning is cloudy and cool, the smell of rain in the air - lovely. Needing to access email, and check in with family, we opt for breakfast at the general store. The staff and locals are friendly, and my homemade spinach and feta croissant is delicious. Something about hanging your purse on the gumball machine, and sitting in front of the soda cooler that gives everything a "tiny town" taste :-)

We head to Convict Lake where we hear the fish are biting. Apparently this information has been broadcast widely as the place is crazy-crowded. Not only are there dozens of people fishing along the shoreline, but several fishing boats dot the small lake. 

A peek of Convict Lake 

In addition to all the fishermen, tourists taking photos of the fall color fill the walkways, parking lot, and benches. The combination of bearded, camo-wearing sportsmen and non-English-speaking women in heels and skirts (really!) is bizarre. We belatedly realize it's Saturday, and although it is a beautiful spot, we have no desire to hang around with a couple hundred other folks.

A short distance from the lake we find a dirt road to a creek in the trees. The growth is too thick to access the water, but it's so wonderfully peaceful, we hang out a bit just to enjoy the quiet beauty.

Color along the creek

Just look up

Natural still-life

When we return to Hwy 395 dark clouds sit on the mountains surrounding us, but we're not ready to stop exploring. The skies above us are blue with pretty puffy clouds.

Bill has an "idea" so we head south of Crowley Lake and turn east at Tom's Place. After a couple miles through log cabins we take a wide dirt road that runs alongside a deep gorge in another valley that seems to go forever. Eventually we cross the dam that created Crowley Lake decades ago.

Another dirt road taking us to interesting locations

Crossing the dam with no signage, dirt road to dirt road

On Friday, Pam had sent us a link for access to the Crowley Columns that bypasses the climb down (and back up) the steeper route they had taken a few days before. Bill connected the dirt road we were on to Benton Crossing that would take us to those directions.

The very narrow dirt road is a kick to drive except for the jolting bumps that are a bit rough with the trikes on the back of the Jeep. 15 minutes after we leave the pavement, we land on the north beach of Crowley Lake. 

The Columns are absolutely amazing and completely isolated. Another Jeep Cherokee arrives ahead of us, but there are no other vehicles or people anywhere nearby. After a short hike across the white sand beach with brown scrub brush to our left, the landscape makes an extreme change.

Large, round rock covers the beach and steep cliffs replace the brush. In the distance, strange caves and columns come into view.

We knew what we were looking for, but seeing this unique landscape still takes us by surprise. The skies are overcast, and rain is threatening, but we continue until we find another sandy beach with columns of white ropes along the cliffs. It is absolutely magical here.

Finding our way through the rocks on the way back to the Jeep, a few rain drops remind us that we are surrounded by storms. 

Back on pavement we find the clouds have dumped a good amount of much needed water. Excellent.

A celebration of water

Overnight the rain at our elevation turns to snow on the mountains, and we awake to white mountains all around us.

Sunday morning delight

With less than thirty miles to our next stop, we sleep in and watch the first quarter of the Steelers game before heading south.

Life is Good, Even When Plans Change

Catching up after a few days with no Internet access.

Wednesday morning we load up the Jeep for a day trip to Yosemite. Although I have lived in California my whole life, I've never been there! I know that sounds impossible, but something always caused a change in plans. It's a beautiful day, Tioga Pass is open, we have plenty of time, and...

......we have a flat tire.

Seriously?

The dash light came on Tuesday while we were out, we added some air in Lee Vining (no air in Bridgeport), and the light never came on again. Apparently a VERY slow leak.  One of our neighbors stops to chat while Bill uses the compressor to fill the tire and says Gardnerville is the closest place to get it fixed.  It's only 65 miles north, we were there the other day.

So the Yosemite curse continues, and we instead return north for the tire repair. Oh well, we need some things from a big grocery store, it's still a beautiful day......we enjoy the vibrant fall colors, stop along the West Walker River on the way back. Yosemite isn't going anywhere.  I will see it!

Thunder storms are forecast for Friday, and with a couple 8000 ft passes to cross I prefer to travel on Thursday instead.
  
Rains the whole 65 miles to Crowley Lake. The wind blows. Every mile from north of Lee Vining. Still, it's such a short trip, and the blowing clouds and muted landscape give us a whole new, and still spectacular, view of this amazing area. 30 minutes after we arrive, the sun comes out :-)

Crowley Lake RV Park is 60% park models and long-terms units. It, and the combination gas station, market, pizza eatery a block away, are the only commercial places in a "town" of dozens of large, beautiful homes. The Aspens and Cottonwoods are really showing off here - the whole place is bright yellow and chartreuse.

Crowley Lake RV Park, all about the location

Although it is another park where the sewer hose runs uphill (we don't hookup), this is a great site - because our dining slide works! Doesn't even skip. Yay!

While in Bridgeport we kept hearing weird noises under the rig. We both checked a couple times - thunk, chink, thunk - we both agreed it sounded like the chassis, but no idea "what".  No sounds on our drive, and none since we set up. We're convinced both the slide and the noises were because we somehow got "tweaked" when we backed in, even though we were level. 

And I have to admit it is nice to have the extra couple feet of space :-/

It rains a little overnight, but the thunderstorms never materialize. It's much cooler, but the remaining clouds are clinging to the tops of the highest peaks, not blocking the sunny skies overhead. We're headed to Devils Post Pile near Mammoth Lake. Bill has never seen it and it's been decades for me.  We're both looking forward to the unique columnar wonder.

The entrance road is steep and narrow, but going down first seems to minimize the height "issue", and it's a lovely drive.  Even though the "pile" is smaller than we both expected, it is still an amazing sight.

The road to Devils Post Pile

There's a trail to the top which we don't do, but to see what it looks like, and learn more about the site, check out John and Pam's post here.

Geological wonder near Mammoth Lakes

Amazing natural columns 

Perfect weather to enjoy the trail 

Just as we're turning back to the parking lot I see a familiar hat on the trail. The pretty face turns toward me and smiles in recognition. I smile back and say "Hi Laurel!" 

Laurel writes Raven and Chickadee and we have been "reading each other" for awhile now.  Although I knew they were in June Lake, it is such a wonderful surprise to meet her on the trail - it's a very small world.  Eric is waiting for her up top, and we don't want to keep her so we say our good-byes for now. We're both heading south in a couple days and hopefully our paths will cross again.  Gotta love this wonderful world of bloggers!

After lunch in the Village we take the scenic loop back to the highway. Bill has been looking at the map and suggests a side road near the air strip. There's a hatchery and maybe a place to fish.  The hatchery is closed, but we see signs for a Hot Creek Geological Site and decide that sounds worth a look.

I'll let you decide from the photos if it was worth it :-)

Hot Creek Geothermal Pools

Geysers erupt here during seismic activity

Steam follows water as it leaves the pools

Surrounding canyon walls

Rather than turning back, we follow the dirt road around the corner and over the ridge and then take a track to the creek. 

Another beautiful place, completely quiet, with no one else around, we drive right to the water. It would be perfect for swimming, still heated here by the hot springs, but for the same reason, it's not a fishing spot. 

Life is definitely Good.

Return to Bodie Ghost Town - Through the Front Door This Time

"Let's see where this road goes!" says the dad, once again changing the route mid-way to the planned destination. Eyes rolling, the teen-age girl says, "Sure maybe we'll find something cool."

I think we were on the way to Virginia Lakes that July afternoon in 1970, Dad driving his '56 Ford pickup north on Hwy 395 until he saw another dirt road, this time heading east, that grabbed his sense of adventure. It was how we spent our mid-days every summer vacation, between morning fishing and evening camp fires - finding the road less traveled between Bishop and Lee Vining in the Eastern Sierras.

There were no signs (per usual) telling us where we were going or that we weren't welcome. The pickup bounced through the ruts, and up the side of a steep hill. We traveled for a very long time - especially in teen-age-girl-time. Near the crest we stopped when we came to old mine tailings, and a couple very weathered wood buildings. I remember we both thought we had found a hidden treasure! It didn't look like anyone had been there in many years. 

We continued to the top, and couldn't believe what else we had "discovered" - a ghost town of maybe fifty metal and wood structures, more tailing piles and mine equipment, and.....wait, is that a US flag and a California flag blowing in the breeze?  Just where are we?

It seemed like several minutes that the little town was all ours, but it was probably only a few seconds before Dad said "Oh Geez!  I bet this is Bodie!"

Which of course it was, and we'd just snuck in the back door :-)

I don't remember if we spent much time looking around, and I don't remember going back to the highway through the front door - but the memory of "finding" that ghost town is one of my favorites.



A well outside the morgue with the Cain residence to the left and the Boon Store and Warehouse across the steet

I couldn't wait to see it with Bill. After those last three miles when the pavement is replaced with dusty washboard (felt sorry for that white Prius behind us), we both said "Oh wow" at the same time.

45 years later, and it is still an amazing discovery!



Marked only as "Kelley" on the map, this is one of many buildings with siding made of vegetable cans, cut and rolled flat - early recycling at its best

Entrance is $5 and the walking tour brochure is $2. Get the brochure! There is no signage after the parking lot, and without it there's no way to know what you're looking at. And there's a LOT to look at here!

Since becoming a State Park in 1962, Bodie has not undergone any restoration, instead it is maintained in "arrested decay". Rust is not removed, wood is not protected, roofs are repaired but not replaced. 



Weather and age take their natural toll

Only a few structures are safe enough to enter, but with uncovered windows at street level, there is much to see inside. Dry goods on shelves, coins on dresser tops, bottles behind bars, books on desks  - covered by, and turning to, dust. As structures fall, contents are moved to the small museum and placed behind glass cabinets.



A glimpse into the past

Boone Store on the corner of Green and Main

Old globe on a desk in the school house - last students here in 1942

Toys remain in a back room of what became a boarding house in the 1920's, originally a general store in 1880

 

Geological and historical items preserved in the museum/visitors' center

Peeling wallpaper, brittle velvet chairs, and crystal bar ware show signs that Bodie was quite the civilized town in its heyday. There were several transitions before the last resident moved away - A telephone switchboard, gasoline pumps, and power poles reflect the several transitions Bodie made before the Cain family sold the whole town to the state.



Several residences had wallpaper in every visible room

Switchboard in hotel lobby

There are a couple dirt roads visible beyond Bodie, but I have no idea if one of them is our "back-door route", I doubt that road still exists. 

The preservation of the past makes Bodie a photographers' dream, and every other person had a camera. Many had tripods or unipods with big, expensive equipment. One such gentleman asked if he could photograph Tessa with a couple who are visiting from England and miss their doggie. 

Well, sure.

So now Tessa will be known in another country as she is apparently known here. See, just 15 minutes before, we were on the boardwalk outside the museum when we heard "Is that Tessa?" from the street in front. Uh, yes it is!

We quickly realized it was a neighbor from the RV park who had shared a morning doggie walk.  Of course they don't know our names, and we don't know theirs. But Tessa......

The sun was very bright, but with lots of shade it was a perfect day to enjoy a couple hours in this wonderful place. The stories of so many are captured here. Miners and businessmen, school teachers and bartenders, gun slingers and law men, morticians and doctors - and a dad and his teen-age daughter who, for just a flash, discovered all of it on a warm July afternoon.



The remaining firehouse was rebuilt by the CCC in the 1930's. Lack of adequate water systems resulted in devastating fires in 1892 and 1932

Water - Colors

The drive south on Hwy 395 from Carson Valley takes us across more pastureland; past huge, old growth cottonwood trees; through pine forests; and alongside the West Fork of the Walker River. Fall color shows up here as rivulets of yellow and orange high on the mountainside, and walls of chartreuse along the river.

As we enter Bridgeport Valley it is easy to see why it has also been known as Big Meadows. Flat miles of gold spread out from the majestic Sierras on the west, and rolling, dark hills on the east side. A patch of green and yellow trees marks the small town of Bridgeport.

Our destination is the Bridgeport Reservoir just north of town, but even as we turn on Hwy 182 there is no sign of water. By now we aren't surprised.

About the time our GPS gives us the "in a half mile" heads-up we see a bit of blue. While the Paradise Shores RV Park has water to look at, the "shores" are now 400 yards away. Still, the views from our site are incredible, and I'm glad we have a week here.

Tucked in for a week

with nice views

in all directions

at all times of the day

Less glad that the dining room slide won't open (catches on the right side, but doesn't jam so we can close it tight). Fortunately it's the one that doesn't block anything while it's in, so we'll test my theory that a smaller rig would be just fine  :-) Our appointment at Camping World is in a couple weeks so we can live with it if necessary.

Saturday we avoid the more popular spots nearby, and head 13 miles up the road to Twin Lakes. Along the way we enjoy the rugged peaks of the Sierras with small amounts of snow clinging in the shadows, and the drizzle of fall color captured in the ravines of the foothills.

Rugged beauty

Colors!

We round a corner and find - a nearly full lake! The two lakes are only separated by a small piece of land, and the road runs tight to the water until it ends at a small resort on the southwest side. 

Water!

Several folks are fishing from the road side, but the wind is blowing hard and the water has white caps, so we don't bother taking out the poles.

Instead we drive back through Bridgeport, pass by our campground, and see what we can see on the other side of the reservoir. 

We can hear the East Fork of the Walker River as we pass the small dam and follow a dirt road into the deep brush. After pushing through on foot, Bill finds access to the water while Tessa and I turn back to the Jeep. It's less than ideal so we continue up the road.

Not only do we find a few spots to return for fishing during the week (earlier in the day), but we also find another beautiful valley. We watch a pair of hawks riding the winds around a large cottonwood, their calls the only sound in this peaceful place.

A few more miles and we come across several pockets of intense colors.

It is so quiet here, there are views in every direction, there's water in the small lakes, the stars are brilliant at night, the fall colors are starting to pop - I love this area!

In every direction