Racing Snow
The maps of this route show a deceptively straight line. We left our camp overlooking Black Lake this morning expecting to drop quickly into the open plains around Mono Lake. Instead, we’ve been winding through beautifully thick pine forest and jagged mountain vistas for the last twenty miles.
Mono Lake is almost exactly as I remember it: beautiful, strange, windy, and green (the water). However, 12 years ago the USFS didn’t want $3 per person and an extra $1.75 to rent a cheap black-and-white copy of the guide. In traditional government form they’ve done little with these fees to improve, maintain, or expand the place beyond emptying the toilets.
The adjacent Navy Beach is more secluded, more natural, and still free to visit. It doesn’t feature the same rock tufas, but it does have hundreds of the far more delicate sand tufas. We explored the coastline for about an hour before the ice cold wind drove us back to the warmth of the truck.
Tioga pass was still closed as expected, so we continued north to meet up with State Route 108. On the way I spotted a sign for Virginia Lakes pointing to a fading mountain road with an antique Sno-Cat parked along side. The lakes are nestled at the top of a long, narrow valley that ends just below the treeline. A howling wind pushes cloud after cloud up over the ridge with an urgency that appears almost time-lapse, and at this altitude the clouds leave sharp, detailed shadows on the still-frozen lakes. Several feisty squirrels take turns soliciting nuts, then chasing each other away from us.
Heading down the road to the lodge we squeezed through openings barely wide enough for the Bigfoot carved out from walls of snow at least as tall. I’m beginning to see the appeal of the truck-bed camper over a trailer or larger class-C RV. The lake-front lodge has a general store, restaurant, cabins, friendly staff, and everything you’d need for a perfect fishing trip (or secluded off-course ski getaway). They also have the all-important hot coffee…
It didn’t take long to reach Bodie, and I think it was actually warmer at Virginia Lakes Lodge. The terrain around the town is all high plains, with little or no shelter from the winds (a fact made plainly obvious by the external supports braced against most of the remaining buildings). Government pan-handling continues here, this time with a $7 per person entry fee plus $2 if we want to borrow yet another xeroxed guide. I’m amused at both the price and the lack of a “sinks off, buildings closed for the winter” discount. We wandered around town for a while, but it really didn’t live up to all the hype for either of us. I very rarely say this about a place: it is better enjoyed through the many excellent photos posted online than it is in person.
A mid-summer snow storm waited for us back at US-395, which raced us northward closing pass after pass just before we could reach them. Admitting defeat, we pulled into the Bridgeport Inn to regroup and come up with a new plan over lunch. The kitchen was closed, but the innkeeper was happy to make us coffee and let us bring our own lunch into the cozy bar. She was also very helpful in finding a place to top off our propane tanks, and figuring out which passes were most likely to open in the morning. I got the feeling this would be a great place to stay in any season, and will make a point to do so next time I’m in the neighborhood.
With our propane and our bellies topped off we drove up to Walker river in search of a shore-front campsite. Just our luck, we found a practically deserted camp ground with a site at the north end on a secluded stone beach. Prices in this part of California continue to astonish me: every single campground here wants at least $20 per night, and that’s for dry camping (no hookups or dump station). We settled into our summer camp and kicked the heater on just as the snow began to fall (again).
A few hours later we realized our private beach wasn’t so private after all…
