Launching the Birthday Kayak

Art gave me an inflatable kayak for my birthday and we'd not had a chance to try it. Can you imagine a more perfect spot? But first, breakfast: fried onions and garlic with hash browns and a big old bowl of buttered beets.

Alan from Santa Cruz walks past and I ask him if he wants to have some. Buttered beets for breakfast, he snarks? And off he goes to the little resort we visited yesterday to have his own version of breaking the fast.

The kayak, in its bag.

Art puts finger-gun to head when he discovers he's forgotten the directions, but we figure it out.

 There's a nifty hand pump for inflating. It doesn't take much effort--we're aiming for 2 psi.

 Ready to launch.

 No, you go first, I say to Art (ain't nobody's fool). So off he goes.

While I walk the shore pretending to make photos, but actually engaging the cute fisherman Stefan in conversation. Are there cougars in these hills? (Nah--he actually reminded me of my fish-crazy brother.)

Fishermen tend to be good folk and Stefan was no exception. He'd barbed this rainbow good and was speaking soothingly to the fish as he tried to disengage it. Look at the clarity of that water.

Like most fishermen, Stefan was eager to tell me about his special lure that reliably hooked rainbow and brook trout. A lifelong grocery store worker from San Diego, he was counting the years until retirement, when he could do this full-time. 

Oh, yeah--back to Art. See the tiny dot of him out there?

He landed infused with the beauty of the shoreline and the comfort of the kayak. But wait. That's me after my tour of the lake. Just as he said: eye-opening and like sitting in a Barcalounger.

 Loving the boat.

 Strange snacks: sesame sticks and hard-boiled eggs.

True to form, the smoke drifted in late afternoon. Is that Yosemite fire still burning? A chill came over me so I wrapped up in a wool blanket before the fire.

A bit later, Alan joined us and we talked into the night over bourbon hot teas. He's been coming to this spot his entire life. His grandparents even spent time here. He hikes every day and wets a line too, and he will for his week's holiday. His PhD endocrinologist wife was back in Santa Cruz teaching. Thanks, Alan, for the good stories and good times!

Yosemite Hike Day

When we awaken, the sun is just coming over the eastern range and our interior thermometer reads 40 degrees F. I dress under the covers before stepping out into a glorious day on my way to the loo. Just then, the sun breaches the ridge and almost instantly warms the world.

We're hiking today--who knows how far. Time to load up on java, fruit, yogurt...

 ...and pancakes.

We begin our hike up across the road from Tioga.

Making our way steadily upward into the forest. Here's a hidden lake along the way.

This enormous fallen monster made me feel like a tree frog.

Alan the fisherman from Santa Cruz pointed us in this direction, toward an old mine.

And here it is. Below I'm including some more info on this astonishing effort to find silver.

 The mine itself has been blocked off.

 Testing (but not drinking) the water from a small stream. Cold!

Check out this rock.

The mining community of Bennettville.

  

There were lots of old odds and ends people had picked up and laid in a stack.

 Imagine the disappointment...and exhaustion.

The one item I always carry. We're heading down from the mine on a path whose outcome we're uncertain of (maybe I should carry a map too).

Tired and thirsty, we're back on the main road and make a brief stop at this tiny resort.

 They rent cabins you can stay in (the loo is at right rear).

 Lots of choices for thirsty hikers.

 These historic photos were set on the mantle of a huge fireplace. Talk about history.

A convivial spot for reading writing, and browsing. There's a restaurant too.

But we're walking the main road back to camp and our own provisions.

Still enjoying the Whole Foods goodies we got back in LA.

 The smoke drifts in around 4 pm.

Tioga Lake Camp at Yosemite's Doorstep

You should go to Yosemite, she said. So we did...almost. And she was right.

View out the back door of the camper

The woman seemed to appear out of nowhere, but it soon became apparent she’d been lurking in the shrubbery while we were speaking to her husband back at Serrano camp in Big Bear Lake, as we were telling him how we wanted to avoid the heat and wondering aloud where we'd head next.

She was a messenger, and she discarded our concerns about the fire. Perfect time to go, said she.

It was.

We spent 2.5 days at Tioga Lake, on the doorstep to Yosemite, entering on the eastern road out of Lee Vining. You can savor Yosemite in so many ways, but not in full this trip--the main road through the park is closed a scant three miles from our location. So we nibbled around the edge, staying in place for two full days, hiking 7 rugged miles, having campfires, cocktails, cooking and eating, and watching people catch rainbow trout in this little paradise.

But first, we loaded up our on-board water tank from the pump. The tank holds 20 gallons and we've been camping for four nights.

We're sparing with water, but still the thirsty tank requires five pump fill-ups from our portable blue 5-gallon jug. (There's a hose that makes this easier, but the pump is too far away to connect it.)

Time for bacon and eggs. All this camping works body and soul. Then we stash all our food in the bear safe at our site.

 You'd be fined for leaving it out.

By late afternoon, a scrim of smoke from the big Yosemite fire miles away fills the sky, and while nothing daunting, turns our clear view into this. The wind patterns would continue this way for each of our three days there--clear as a bell in the morning and early afternoon and then the smoke.

A cool breeze blows as the sun sets. It could fall into the 40s tonight. Let's build a fire.

A fellow camper from Santa Cruz catches a rainbow trout. They're biting like crazy, he says.

Two German lads arrive in camp near sunset, on a 23-day holiday that started with their landing in Las Vegas and includes seeing the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, and finally San Fran before the flight home. We all know the main road across Yosemite is closed just a few miles into the park. Undaunted, they ask if we thought they could still drive in and hike the glacier trail they had their hearts set on.

I'm so tired I am this/close to saying...

JUST GO. IT'S AN ADVENTURE!