Whew! We got home on Thursday, July 22, from our camping trip to Huntington Lake. We go every year over my husband's birthday (July 18). It is also the time when they hold the High Sierra Regatta Sail Boat Races. Colorful, fun, exciting, and festive!
Huntington Lake is at 7,000 ft. Its pristine, clear blue waters are inviting, but maybe a little cool for some. Nonetheless, the days are very, very warm, so the water feels good on the tootsies!
Over the years, the most exciting thing we've encountered (or should I say "encountered us") was Cubby, the two year old black bear cub who literally destroyed our camp, while his mother, "the Old Sow," terrorized the Boy Scout Camp. He ate all of hubby's 3-pound package of double-stuffed Oreos and all of our variety pack of Svenhard's Danish Pastries. He ate the apple danish, the cheese danish, the raspberry danish--all of them, except one. Ironically, he left one bearclaw! Was it his signature? We'd like to think so, but I don't think bears are that smart, even if they can smell out a peanut butter sandwich at 500 yards.
Every year we do a lot of the same things. We visit the Indian Pools, the Rancheria Falls, climb the long road up to Kaiser Pass, fish, explore, and finally, rent a fishing boat for the afternoon and cruise up and down this beautiful lake, peering at the osprey and golden eagle. Sometimes we rent horses and go into the back country--although we have not done that for the last couple of years.
And we always take Gus, our dog with us.
We've been fortunate to have seen some breathtaking sights: The osprey as they fish, soaring high up, in ever-tighter circles over the lake until finally dropping into a steep dive to catch a trout. Or watching them teach their fledglings to fly. Or the eagle as it swooshes overhead when you least expect it. Even watching them steal the osprey's catch in a somsersault attack (the scoundrels!) snatching the fish (upside down) right out of their talons.
I've seen deer, too, running alongside the road just within the tree line, watching us watch them. Squirrels, chipmunks, stellar jays, robins, and junkos visit the camp regularly. And then there are the marmots. We saw one this time who, I swear, acted like a contestant on America's Next Top Model, sashaying all over, swishing her big, sexy brown tail and striking a pose.
This year, my son and daughter-in-law came for the weekend. We had a great time, despite the Pavarotti wanna-be that camped next door. Can you believe this guy singing at the top of his lungs at 4:30 a.m.? I don't know what his trip was, but it was not only rude, it was comical at the same time. Especially when I heard my son's voice blurt out "SERIOUSLY?" from his tent. Voices carry at that altitude.
On Monday, the 19th, we decided to drive up to Kaiser Pass (9,000 ft) as per usual. It was a weekday and we thought that maybe the traffic would be light. It was and it wasn't. Just before we hit the Pass, we had to pull over so a full sized pickup truck could get by. These roads are paved and narrow, but still wide enough to accommodate two vehicles in most places.
"There's a guy coming with a bigger load than mine," the guy said into my husband's open window from the big green truck .
"There's plenty of room," said hubby. And there was. However, we noticed that the fellow approaching us was not just driving a pickup. He was pulling a 20-ft. travel trailer and behind it, pulling a 16-ft. boat. He obviously didn't think there was enough room. He was a little nervous about the 2,000 ft. drop on the other side. I would be, too, however in these instances one has to keep a cool head. Logic usually prevails.
Not with this guy. He kept coming, inching his vehicle(s) ever closer alongside us. His passenger mirror was an inch or two away from our SUV.
"Stop!" hubby and I yelled. Hubby slapped the trailer side through his open window.
"He's gonna hit us!" I yelled.
Screeeeeetch! Metal on metal. I cringed.
"Stop!! Stop!!"
He stopped. Thank God.
"You've got another 2-3 feet on the other side," said hubby with an edge in his voice. You really, really don't want to make my 6-foot, 250 pound, ex-football player husband mad.
I got out carefully (since we were lodged against the mountain side). I could barely open my door.
When I positioned myself in front of him, I told him he would have to back up several feet in order to disengage the vehicles and to move over. I realized this is NOT an easy thing to do when you are pulling two other vehicles, which incidentally is illegal.
He got out of the truck and came to the front to see just how much room he did have. It was then that I noticed (I couldn't help it) he was an Asian-American, very short, and well into his 70's. I was surprised he could even see over his steering wheel! He had this funny little brimmed hat on, like one might wear in a garden.
Anyway, with me in the front giving hand signals, he backed up carefully, put his rig in gear and edged forward. I am sure it was scary to him, but he was able to get by us.
The Durango will go into the shop tomorrow for an estimate. It most likely will need a rear panel and a new rear fender. Fortunately the guy's insurance accepted full responsibility and we don't have to come up with the $500 deductible. Yay!
After exchanging critical insurance information, we continued up the road to Kaiser Pass, stopped for some fishing at Portal Lake, and then headed further to Florence Lake. About 5 miles from Florence Lake, we saw two men walking briskly up the road. They were hikers stranded by the heavy, rain-swelled streams. Father (an airline pilot) and son (wearing his ROTC fatigues) chatted with us all the way to Florence Lake.
We picnicked there along he edges of a beautiful granite lake, eating our cold-cut sandwiches and chips. On the way out, however, we happened upon another father-son hiking team looking to get back to Huntington Lake in the fastest way possible. That's 25 miles of narrow road full of switchbacks. On a hot day. They, too, had been stranded by the higher than average waterways. Well, hubby and I said "Sure. Hop in" and made room for their overloaded backpacks in the rear of the Durango.
I had to assure our aging and cranky Shih-tsu, Gus, that it was okay for these strangers to come along and to make room for them in the back seat. Fortunately, he complied.
Everyone got back to Huntington Lake safe and sound and happy.
In the meantime, hubby caught a couple of fish, I had the camp stove blow up in my face (I still have my eyebrows, although my forearms got singed), and we rescued two Boy Scouts (one about 7 along with his 'buddy'--a 16-year old) on the lake. Their sailboat (a small sunfish) had overturned and they'd lost their rudder. Both were struggling to right the boat and regain control when hubby and I happened along in our fishing boat. Fortunately, after a lot of maneuvering, I fished the rudder out of the water (along with the 16-year-old) just as the younger boy managed to make it back on the sailboat. However, the wind picked up and the panicked look on the kid's face was one I'll never forget as the boat took off across the lake at high speed--without a rudder. We chased it and finally caught up. The older boy, rudder in hand, got aboard the sailboat. We left when a camp counselor motored up to tow them back to shore.
All in all it was a good trip. We went a full 7 nights this time, which I think is a bit much. I was a little bored and I didn't bring enough reading and writing material with me.
Still, camping makes you really appreciate the little things, like hot showers, air conditioning, and all the conveniences one takes for granted. I didn't miss the TV, but I did miss my computer, although even I need a break from it now and then.
Big Question: Is there a wireless laptop that will operate at 9,000 feet?
Huntington Lake is at 7,000 ft. Its pristine, clear blue waters are inviting, but maybe a little cool for some. Nonetheless, the days are very, very warm, so the water feels good on the tootsies!
Over the years, the most exciting thing we've encountered (or should I say "encountered us") was Cubby, the two year old black bear cub who literally destroyed our camp, while his mother, "the Old Sow," terrorized the Boy Scout Camp. He ate all of hubby's 3-pound package of double-stuffed Oreos and all of our variety pack of Svenhard's Danish Pastries. He ate the apple danish, the cheese danish, the raspberry danish--all of them, except one. Ironically, he left one bearclaw! Was it his signature? We'd like to think so, but I don't think bears are that smart, even if they can smell out a peanut butter sandwich at 500 yards.
Every year we do a lot of the same things. We visit the Indian Pools, the Rancheria Falls, climb the long road up to Kaiser Pass, fish, explore, and finally, rent a fishing boat for the afternoon and cruise up and down this beautiful lake, peering at the osprey and golden eagle. Sometimes we rent horses and go into the back country--although we have not done that for the last couple of years.
And we always take Gus, our dog with us.
We've been fortunate to have seen some breathtaking sights: The osprey as they fish, soaring high up, in ever-tighter circles over the lake until finally dropping into a steep dive to catch a trout. Or watching them teach their fledglings to fly. Or the eagle as it swooshes overhead when you least expect it. Even watching them steal the osprey's catch in a somsersault attack (the scoundrels!) snatching the fish (upside down) right out of their talons.
I've seen deer, too, running alongside the road just within the tree line, watching us watch them. Squirrels, chipmunks, stellar jays, robins, and junkos visit the camp regularly. And then there are the marmots. We saw one this time who, I swear, acted like a contestant on America's Next Top Model, sashaying all over, swishing her big, sexy brown tail and striking a pose.
This year, my son and daughter-in-law came for the weekend. We had a great time, despite the Pavarotti wanna-be that camped next door. Can you believe this guy singing at the top of his lungs at 4:30 a.m.? I don't know what his trip was, but it was not only rude, it was comical at the same time. Especially when I heard my son's voice blurt out "SERIOUSLY?" from his tent. Voices carry at that altitude.
On Monday, the 19th, we decided to drive up to Kaiser Pass (9,000 ft) as per usual. It was a weekday and we thought that maybe the traffic would be light. It was and it wasn't. Just before we hit the Pass, we had to pull over so a full sized pickup truck could get by. These roads are paved and narrow, but still wide enough to accommodate two vehicles in most places.
"There's a guy coming with a bigger load than mine," the guy said into my husband's open window from the big green truck .
"There's plenty of room," said hubby. And there was. However, we noticed that the fellow approaching us was not just driving a pickup. He was pulling a 20-ft. travel trailer and behind it, pulling a 16-ft. boat. He obviously didn't think there was enough room. He was a little nervous about the 2,000 ft. drop on the other side. I would be, too, however in these instances one has to keep a cool head. Logic usually prevails.
Not with this guy. He kept coming, inching his vehicle(s) ever closer alongside us. His passenger mirror was an inch or two away from our SUV.
"Stop!" hubby and I yelled. Hubby slapped the trailer side through his open window.
"He's gonna hit us!" I yelled.
Screeeeeetch! Metal on metal. I cringed.
"Stop!! Stop!!"
He stopped. Thank God.
"You've got another 2-3 feet on the other side," said hubby with an edge in his voice. You really, really don't want to make my 6-foot, 250 pound, ex-football player husband mad.
I got out carefully (since we were lodged against the mountain side). I could barely open my door.
When I positioned myself in front of him, I told him he would have to back up several feet in order to disengage the vehicles and to move over. I realized this is NOT an easy thing to do when you are pulling two other vehicles, which incidentally is illegal.
He got out of the truck and came to the front to see just how much room he did have. It was then that I noticed (I couldn't help it) he was an Asian-American, very short, and well into his 70's. I was surprised he could even see over his steering wheel! He had this funny little brimmed hat on, like one might wear in a garden.
Anyway, with me in the front giving hand signals, he backed up carefully, put his rig in gear and edged forward. I am sure it was scary to him, but he was able to get by us.
The Durango will go into the shop tomorrow for an estimate. It most likely will need a rear panel and a new rear fender. Fortunately the guy's insurance accepted full responsibility and we don't have to come up with the $500 deductible. Yay!
After exchanging critical insurance information, we continued up the road to Kaiser Pass, stopped for some fishing at Portal Lake, and then headed further to Florence Lake. About 5 miles from Florence Lake, we saw two men walking briskly up the road. They were hikers stranded by the heavy, rain-swelled streams. Father (an airline pilot) and son (wearing his ROTC fatigues) chatted with us all the way to Florence Lake.
We picnicked there along he edges of a beautiful granite lake, eating our cold-cut sandwiches and chips. On the way out, however, we happened upon another father-son hiking team looking to get back to Huntington Lake in the fastest way possible. That's 25 miles of narrow road full of switchbacks. On a hot day. They, too, had been stranded by the higher than average waterways. Well, hubby and I said "Sure. Hop in" and made room for their overloaded backpacks in the rear of the Durango.
I had to assure our aging and cranky Shih-tsu, Gus, that it was okay for these strangers to come along and to make room for them in the back seat. Fortunately, he complied.
Everyone got back to Huntington Lake safe and sound and happy.
In the meantime, hubby caught a couple of fish, I had the camp stove blow up in my face (I still have my eyebrows, although my forearms got singed), and we rescued two Boy Scouts (one about 7 along with his 'buddy'--a 16-year old) on the lake. Their sailboat (a small sunfish) had overturned and they'd lost their rudder. Both were struggling to right the boat and regain control when hubby and I happened along in our fishing boat. Fortunately, after a lot of maneuvering, I fished the rudder out of the water (along with the 16-year-old) just as the younger boy managed to make it back on the sailboat. However, the wind picked up and the panicked look on the kid's face was one I'll never forget as the boat took off across the lake at high speed--without a rudder. We chased it and finally caught up. The older boy, rudder in hand, got aboard the sailboat. We left when a camp counselor motored up to tow them back to shore.
All in all it was a good trip. We went a full 7 nights this time, which I think is a bit much. I was a little bored and I didn't bring enough reading and writing material with me.
Still, camping makes you really appreciate the little things, like hot showers, air conditioning, and all the conveniences one takes for granted. I didn't miss the TV, but I did miss my computer, although even I need a break from it now and then.
Big Question: Is there a wireless laptop that will operate at 9,000 feet?
