Select Page

This long-delayed post begins on Thursday, the evening of September 3rd. I haven’t posted what has been happening in my life on the mountain for nearly two weeks; the last post about Bodie chronicled my last motorcycle trip. I took that 5-day trip while waiting for key materials to arrive, and upon my return I focused on the work that was the core objective of this entire trip. That work is now essentially completed, and my time with White Mountain Research Center is drawing to a close.

I expect to focus on a few final punch list items for a couple of days later this coming week, and then the work will be finished. Last week I focused on having both PV systems, the one at the Summit Laboratory (what I have been referring to as the Summit Hut) and the other at the Observatory, ready to power new internet radios. I had also left this week open so that I’d be prepared to assist n the interconnection, but my skills weren’t needed.

So today I came down to the muggle world on the motorcycle. I’m heading up to Echo Lake, near south Lake Tahoe, to spend Labor Day weekend at a family camp run by the City of Berkeley. As best I can recall, I spent a week here as a child more than a half century ago, and remember little of it. But for the next 8 or 9 years I spent a week each summer at Berkeley’s other family camp, outside of Yosemite Park. That camp, which had operated since the 1920s, burned in the huge Rim Fire two years ago. With so many generations of families having attended, interest in maintaining the traditions and rebuilding the camp remains high. In the meantime, the Echo Lake Camp has filled the need, and this weekend is the final organized event of the season. I expect that I’ll know nobody there, and that’ll be OK.

The Sierra mountains from the Owens Valley, obscured by smoke from the Rough Fire, currently the largest wildfire in California.

The Sierra mountains from the Owens Valley, obscured by smoke from the Rough Fire, currently the largest wildfire in California.

The mountain is a different world than the valley below. While up there we watched the smoke roll over different peaks and up different valleys, we were usually above it. Bishop is in the thick of it and has been for three weeks now. It has to be psychically stressful for the residents, and likely physically unhealthy, too.

Nearly everyone on the small WRMC staff is or was a climber. Bishop is a small hub town for forays into the mountains all around. It appear to me to be a small town (of about 3,000) based on the automobile, in that people come to Bishop, whether as tourists or residents, to then head to the mountains around it, and pretty much every destination is a drive from the town.

So today I rode north through Bishop and past Mono Lake, with dinner at a roadhouse in Lee Vining, I continued north to Bridgeport, then headed out of town to Travertine Hot Springs, which I’d briefly visited last trip.

This time I soon had the set of major hot pools all to myself, as the sky grew dark and the Milky Way became so prominent in the dark sky. The evening was cool but not bone-chilling, so drying off and dressing was pleasant.

By flash at night, this is how the hot water flows into the pool.

By flash at night, this is how the hot water flows into the pool.

...and I am thoroughly enjoying the soak.

…and I am thoroughly enjoying the soak.

Now I’m camped as minimally as possible – ground sheet, air mattress, sleeping bag, iPad and music – and will continue in the morning.

___

Morning, and I have returned to the same pool. There’s a logistic reason – my air mattress loses air overnight, and I want to use the pool to find any leaks – but the pools are as delightful at dawn as under stars, and I’m still all alone here. Here’s a daylight photo of the same stream of hot water over the travertine rocks:

photo 2

The main pools area, with the tiny town of Bridgeport in the distance.

The main pools area, with the tiny town of Bridgeport in the distance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ah, the simple bliss of a natural hot pool.

Ah, the simple bliss of a natural hot pool.

Never found the leak, though. I rode on north, over several passes and ultimately to the Echo Lake Camp. I’m a pretty conservative motorcyclist. I can enjoy going fast, and I can be assertive when needed, but it doesn’t run me. So far I haven’t had even a close call in traffic. Riding alone, I can find my own pace, not affected by other riders’ styles. I find I’m very defensive, often ready to brake hard as I approach an intersection with cross traffic.