August 7-8, 2007.

Mammoth Lakes

to Sacramento
The End of the Road

Determined to do some exploration in the Mammoth Lakes area, we began the day with an overview---literally. We climbed aboard the Mammoth Mountain gondola and were whisked to the top of the 11,000+ foot mountain in a matter of minutes. The temperature was brisk—in the 50s---and the wind about 30 mph. Nevertheless, the views were spectacular thanks to absence of recent forest fires (which haunted us elsewhere). Looking north towards Yosemite, craggy peaks reached skywards. As pretty a mountaintop view as we had seen on the whole trip. Hooray California!

We returned to the rig, picked up Carly and headed to the June Lake Loop. Gorgeous views as we checked out a few campgrounds for future reference (somehow we’ve got to find a solution to the Norcold refrigerator that won’t work on gas over 5500 feet). Finally, we hooked up again with Mexico mates Kaye and Dee, who we last saw outside of Banff Park. They were staying at Silver Lake until the end of September, so we traded them the firewood that we had hauled around the country from Oregon. In return, Kaye emptied a bottle of Chardonnay in our direction before we all headed back to June Lake for dinner.

After sitting down for dinner, the waiter (a charming chap) told us that most of the items on the menu weren’t available, since the hood fan on the stove was kaput. We opted for Mexican food, but frankly, we’ve had better. Great to spend some final moments with Kaye and Dee, however.

Up early the next morning, we were on the road by 6:30. I headed up the Mono Pass with the rig, and Janice trailed behind, stopping to pick up lattes. We hooked up the toad at the truck turnout at Conway summit. Testing the lights, there was a problem, and fuses kept blowing. I could have spent the whole morning rewiring the rig but elected to hit the road without lights on the toad, reasoning that there were plenty of lights on the rig, traffic was light, and I wanted to get home! Foolish and stupid, yes! Fortunately we made it home safely, climbing up the pass east of Silver Lake (Hwy 88) and then sliding over to Hwy 104 west of Jackson. The last 10 miles on 104 were some of the scariest on the trip, as a Mexico-width highway with no shoulders was filled with oncoming trucks enroute to some construction project. I was certain that our 4500 miles on the road would end catastrophically a few miles from home.

Arriving home about 2pm, Carly promptly flopped down in the bushes and Janice headed to the post office to pick up the mail. Home at last!
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Epilogue

After a few days’ reflection, the following thoughts remain:

1) Long trips are OK, but we need to simply stop in one place for a week or so to just relax. This trip was a bit ‘busy’ and we were a bit frayed at times and wound up 'weary' of constant travel. Looking forward to some time in the woods this fall. Just sitting.

2) The scenery in California matches anything we saw along the way, with a few exceptions: Waterton Lake in Canada and the Beartooth Highway in Montana. These are in a class by themselves.

3) Southern Colorado is a place we’d consider spending a few summers in. Beautiful country, rivers, mountains and nice people, including the many Texans summering there.

4) Oregon remains a special place for us, and there is a lot more there for us to enjoy and explore. Next year! We'll be going to Casey’s Riverside Resort for sure.

5) The Calgary Stampede was a whole lotta fun, and the grandstand show will remain a dazzling memory for a long time.

6) Watching the Ironman Triathlon in Coeur d’Alene provided us with a tremendous respect for the athletes (Julie included) who compete in such events. A real test of physical endurance and mental will.

August 3-4-5, 2007

From Flagstaff,AZ to Las Vegas, NV to Mammoth Lakes, CA

Homeward Bound

Leaving Flagstaff meant miles of sand, rocks and sagebrush, interrupted only by lunch at the Hoover Dam overlook. From there we ‘stumbled’ into the Oasis RV Park, missing the 215 on-ramp enroute. This gave us an unplanned tour of the north of the strip area, plus got us involved in a traffic jam. Arriving at the Oasis, we were prepared to pay $96 for 2 nights, even knowing that we were going to be staying at Casa Julie. Expensive parking! Fortunately, Janice was able to obtain 2 nights ‘storage’ at the park for $5 per night. That put us $86 ahead in Las Vegas, and we had just arrived.

The heat (108 high,90 low) was absolutely unbearable, so we just hung out, laying low, though we did catch a movie at the Red Rock. Nary a nickel was wagered there,though.

Leaving early this morning, we got the rig out of hock and hit the road by 7:30,heading for Bishop via Hwy 95 and Hwy 6. A more boring route does not exist in America. The high spots were Goldfield and Tonopah. Now, Goldfield is our “Trona” awardee (if you’ve seen Trona,CA this ain’t no compliment!) for this trip. What a hole! Nothing but collapsing doublewides (and single-wides), dilapidated shacks and a couple of time-worn brick structures. One was the old Goldfield Hotel, which no doubt could tell stories about its hey-day. Today, it is a home to rats and spiders. In front of the hotel, a singular young lad of about 10 stood, straddling a new bike. He loved that bike, oblivious to the squalor in his hometown, Poor kid! Pawn the bike and get outta town!

Moving on to Tonapah, we were ripped off by the first gas station in town, which featured regular at $3.14.9 per gallon. We bit, only to discover that the stations in town (known by the locals) were selling it for $2.99. Won’t be back here! (Even if they were giving gas away, we would not return to Tonopah!) Any town that features itself as the “Stargazing capital of the US” would rather have you looking up in the sky at night than looking around during the daytime. Ugh! Double ugh! If you are ever so unfortunate to be in the vicinity, consider stopping at the Miller Rest Area, 12 miles north of town. A veritable oasis for RVers. Along the route there were a couple of legal brothels, the “Shady Lady” and the “Cottontail Club”. No cars/trucks were parked in front of either. All were in church??? Nearby RV Parks were touting $7.00 and $8.00 “full hook-ups.” (Sorry, but I won’t comment further on that.)

Arriving in Bishop after more miles of nothingness surrounded by towering mountains, we stopped for provisions. Noting that it was about 98 degrees outside, and ther ain’t much to do in Bishop, we headed north 41 miles up steep grades to Mammoth Lakes, coming to rest in the Mammoth Lakes RV Park. Cool winds rock the rig. Our main slide was squeaking terribly when we attempted to deploy it, so we stopped halfway, waiting for a fresh day to give us a new perspective on this potential disaster. Once again our gas refrigerator will not function above 5500 feet, so our plans for a couple days of dry camping may be doomed. We may be home sooner than we thought, but I think that’d be OK with Carly, who is just plain ‘wore out’ with this road stuff.

July 31- Aug, 1 2007


From Durango, CO to Flagstaff, AZ

July 31, 2007

After two earlier, near-complete entries regarding our train ride were eaten by a Word error message and crash, I gave up, postponing the third try until today. I will “Save” frequently to avoid another disaster.

The Durango-Silverton Steam train lived up to advance billing. We left Carly and the rig at 6:40 a.m., picked up "two large non-fat hazelnut lattes" en route and were properly on the train at the requested 7:00 a.m. boarding time. We were in a covered ‘gondola car’, which meant we sat on a bench facing outwards, covered by a tin roof. No sides except a railing. These were cheap seats, but on a perfect weather day, they beat the coach seating by a mile. And we did have perfect weather: 60 to 75 degrees.

After a ho-hum first 8 miles as we escaped the immediate environs of Durango, we started climbing, going along the Animas River. The views from that point on were spectacular, stupendous, and then just continually beautiful. The first jaw-dropper occurred as we hung on the side of a cliff, 1000 feet above the river chasm. I could have jumped into the river, we were that close to the edge. And, if you ever do this ride, get the ‘east seats’ like we did, otherwise you will spend 2/3 of your trip looking at rock walls or hillsides next to the tracks. Not us, though. Just eyeball-popping views as the cars creaked, wheels squeaked and the engine chugagchugged up the grade, tooting whistles into the forests. It was a wonderful 3 ½ hour ride, despite a mixture of steam, soot and cinders that wafted our way occasionally. Pure ambiance. Could fill several pages with photos, but won’t.

Arriving in Silverton (11:15) , we mistakenly stumbled into the first restaurant for lunch, where we enjoyed excellent Reuben sandwiches. The restaurant bills itself as the last whorehouse in Silverton (where prostitution finally ended about 1950). One street over in this two street town were some pretty nice dineries. Whether they could beat the Reuben’s, I dunno, but we just kinda felt hornswaggled into the whore house as we initially walked down the sidewalk from the train. Then we had to dig through our pockets for cash when they advised, “no plastic.” Hey, we could still be washing dishes there.

With the rest of the couple hundred train riders, we walked the town, going from gift shop to gift shop. It was almost a mandatory shopping experience.

On the return trip (1:15), we had opted to take the bus, which turned out to be a really wise move. The temperature was falling and rain began falling as we headed up the hill. The bus driver was exceptionally informative, and managed to keep us awake for the entire 1 ½ hour trip back to Durango. As beautiful as the train trip was, doing it in reverse for another 3 ½ hours in the rain would have been torture.

We dined out at the “Serious Texas BBQ”, exposing ourselves to the culinary taste of the Texans who have completely invaded Colorado for the summer. Just cain’t believe how many of ‘em there are. Nice folks, but they do talk funny.

August 1, 2007

Hit the road early (8:10) hoping to cover the 370 miles from Durango to Flagstaff. There really isn’t anything in between except Gallup, NM, sage brush, large rocky formations protruding up out of the desert, Indian reservations and crumbling double-wides. One would only live in this part of New Mexico as a matter of personal calamity or unfortunate destiny. After noon, we were on I-40, the first 4-laner we had seen in a while. Had to cruise 65-70 to avoid being eaten up by the trucks, who passed us even at those speeds. It was nice to be driving on straight roads, though.

Arriving in Flagstaff about 3:00 (gained an hour), this will be our home for 2 nights. Carly is wishing for a significant drop in altitude as she has been at 5000-7500 feet for too long for a geezer dog. Short walks for this pooch. Fill the blue bag, Carly.