Tall Tales - February, 2001

Remember, names have been changed to protect the innocent. Depictions of illegal activities are pure fiction, inserted for comic relief. Just say Yo! Dates uncertain due to loss of grey matter.

My friend, Devo, is joining me for this trip, so my first stop is his place at South Shore. There’s a lot of snow there, and my truck slips around his parking lot. Hmmm, I hope this isn’t an omen for the rest of the trip. As we’re packing, it begins to snow…. A full-blown storm hits by the time we leave, and as we pass over Kingsbury Grade I have to keep rolling down my window, reaching out, and snapping my windshield wiper, to clear the accumulated ice and snow.

We clear the Sierras but the storm continues, with chain conditions all the way to Bishop. The chain speed limit is 25mph, no matter how clear the road is. I found this out after I passed an oncoming cop going about 60mph, and Devo reminded me of the law. I hadn’t seen a chain sign in a while, and the pavement was dry, but chain conditions were still in effect, so I got lucky.

We make the requisite scenic stops, with the road bringing us us to Keough Hot Ditch at sunset. The water isn’t very hot tonight and can’t compete against the chill in the air. I recognize this ahead of time, but Devo chooses to have a soak. He ends up freezing, desperately looking for a towel in the dark. Since the water temperature sucks, we head another couple miles south to a nice campsite I know of, up high on an alluvial fan below the Sierra face. The view from here includes the radio telescope array, a rather surreal sight. Later talks with locals reveal that the landowner at the head of the spring releases the hot water into the ditch after 9:00 or 10:00pm.

We continue south on 395, turning east on highway 136. We had considered heading up to Cerro Gordo and over the other side, but there’s obviously too much snow. Instead, we continue east to highway 190, then turn north onto the road to the southern pass of Salty Valley. The usual, "Road Closed" signs are up, making Devo (who has never been here) think we should find another way in. I tell him the signs aren’t a good indicator of the road conditions ahead; that they’re kept up mainly for liability issues. So, although we can see snow on the hills we’ll have to pass over, we get back in the truck and continue.

As we climb into the hills, snow begins to fill the washboard, making the road nice and smooth, if a bit treacherous. When we hit the high point and start down towards the Grapevine Canyon/Hunter Mtn. Road junction, the amount of snow increases dramatically. We’re suddenly in a winter wonderland, and my tires are really bald. I try a test skid, and (oops!) almost slide into the embankment. There’s tracks in front of us, but they’ve iced over, and a second test skid yields the same flailing result. We had intended to drive over Hunter Mtn, but with this much snow, and this lousy traction, there’s no way we’d make it. So I chicken out and turn around, all the

way back to Hwy 136.

We detour east, stopping at the Father Crowley viewpoint. From there, it was a long drive through Stovepipe Wells, north onto Death Valley Road , a quick detour to Scotty’s Castle to get outrageously-priced gas (while hoping the rangers don’t snag us for not paying the park entry fee), then on past Ubehebe Crater, where we hit dirt again. Scattered clouds have gathered overhead now, and occasional rain drops hit the window, but nearby peaks are all frosted with snow, making for interesting views.

Our next stop is Tea Kettle Junction, where we all pile out for a quick stretch. At The Racetrack, we jog across the playa to the southern rock area. Walking just seems to take so long. The rocks are interesting, but been there, done that, and the horizon is now a solid line of black clouds. We decide to camp at the bottom of lippencott in case the clouds yield one of those rare freak storms which washes out roads. I’d rather be stranded inside Salty Valley, kinda strange logic now that I think about it. If Lippincott is washed out, then the gullies

at its base will almost certainly wash out the road where it crosses them. Plus, camp at the top is much better view-wise. Later that night I almost stepped in a pile of Devo’s poo (buried under thin layer of dirt), starting debate on proper poo ettiquette. I say, don’t poop any where near camp. Why not take a nice walk some ways from camp? This spreads out your impact, gives you a chance to appreciate your surroundings up close, removes chance of fellow camper noticing it, etc. He thinks 100’ is sufficient, then paces off 85 feet. I think 100 yards is more like the officially-recommended distance, but opine that farther is better. After returning from this trip, I spend four or five hours finding links to distance recommendations, then send them all to him. I’m hating it if Devo ever gets his own web page together….

Continuing into Salty Valley, our path crosses against the prevailing washes as we head west to connect with Salty Valley Road. From there, we race down to the salt lake, then speed along below the face of the Inyos. Once again, I’d like to stop and check out one of those mysterious side canyons, but we have other destinations today.

I show Devo the bat pole, then we continue on to a soak at Palm Springs. Nothing exciting happening there today, which I guess is as it should be. After a nice soak, we continue up the rough road towards upper warm springs. Devo is more of a drinker than me, so I join him at this point; I can’t be rude! I find that the constant shaking an ice chest goes through while driving on rough roads melts the ice faster, but also keeps beers chilled extra cold. I wonder how cold it would get if I added salt to my ice chest? We crank a new CD, Disturbed’s The Sickness, rocking our way up the canyon.

We stop at the upper warm springs for a quick, somewhat slimy soak, then continue over Steel pass because of threatening weather. It’s easy to imagine a good storm flushing out the canyons, and removing the road in the process. Any size flash flood could do some serious damage to the road between Salty Valley and Eureka Valley. Bummer, responsibilities intruding on my vacation!!! We cross the pass in a gentle snowfall. Everything is quiet, different, alien almost. But beautiful beyond words, of course. We take a nice break on the pass before continuing. The short, loose section, is tricky enough today to make Devo and I disagree on the path to take on the way down it. I opt for the narrow ridge-top path (versus the middle of the hill, in the ruts), and make it down no problemo.

We continue on, down Dedeckera Canyon (nice rocks, as always, and the steps weren’t anything to fear), stopping numerous times to take photos or check out details of the surroundings. We finally bottom out in the flats around Eureka Dunes around sunset, and camp at a site I like on desert pavement north of the dunes. The discussion on camp etiquette continues over more beers. Things get ugly when he says my dog leaves more of a trace than him.

The snow level lowered a little overnight, draping a white blanket over the top of the dunes. It doesn’t look like we would’ve been trapped in Salty Valley, but North Pass is definitely closed. Occasional snowflakes hit our windshield as I race down the roads of Eurethra Valley. Gaining altitude on our climb over the Inyos to the Owens Valley, it becomes apparent that the road has been plowed recently, because there’s a lot of snow on the sides. Even so, several inches have accumulated on the pavement by the time we crest the summit, causing several cars (judging by tire tracks) to turn around. My tires do fine. I guess that’s the difference between ice and snow.

The descent is uneventful, and we head back north on Highway 395 to South Shore. The storm is so severe that 395 is closed north of Bridgeport, so we take the long detour through Nevada. Why is every drive through that state so loooong?

I drop Devo off in South Shore, then head home via Placerville and the Gold Country.