As our neighbors in the RV park were packing up and heading south before the Bomb Cyclone hit we decided on an outing to Lake Tahoe. It was just behind the mountains we had been staring at for a couple of days and the main reason for coming to this campground. The dusting of pretty snow on top just made it that much more tantalizing.
And Lake Tahoe did not disappoint. Emerald Bay in particular was spectacular and I was very taken with the notion of building a tea house on an island, which Mrs. Knight did when she’d finished her Scandi castle in 1929. That’s it mid left below. You can tour the castle if you’re willing to hike down a mile (and up again), which I totally would have been if not for the coming storm etc.
The tea house island.
Still not quite figured out the selfie stick thing.
So, I mentioned Lakes in the title. In case you’d forgotten we were camped beside Lake Washoe which was hard to see because of the ongoing drought. There was an optimistic boat ramp which was a good 300 yards short of any actual water. The lake was completely dry when our campground host arrived 15 years ago. It had crossed my mind that there was an Atmospheric River approaching. And then this:
Well, this gave me pause. Our cheerful little jaunt to the other lake ended with me being in a slight (okay major) panic about the one we were camped right beside. I drove down to the boat launch ramp after a full day of tipping down rain and was not reassured. And it was going to rain all night too.
There was nothing for it but to watch Bake Off, drink wine and keep my fingers crossed (and pre-pack up in case of a hasty departure.)
The rain never stopped. It did not make for a good night’s sleep and I wished we had followed our fellow travelers in heading south sooner. We’d already scrapped the planned scenic route along the eastern side of the Sierras to our next stop, Mammoth Lake which was expecting 2-4 FEET of snow, and road closures. We would head further inland along the non-scenic, non-lethal drive to Walker Lake where we would boondock for the night, safe from floods and wind and snow, before rejoining the scenic route south of Mammoth/Armageddon Lake.
This is what we woke to.
The expected “gusts” of 70 mph did not arrive, but snow and sleet and slush did. And God willing, the creek didn’t rise. So, when another lull appeared we saddled up. That’s one Bomb Cyclone under our belt. Onward!
Wrong on both counts this time! I was the very much unmade one - extreme weather will do that to me - and Dan was completely assured that all would be well. He was right, of course.
This is exciting! Being a former resident of Lake Tahoe, Carson City, Washoe Valley, Reno, and Sparks, I’ve come to know the air is different there—you’re a mile high above sea level … or more. It is crisp. The sky is noticeably a darker blue. The clouds are closer to the ground. The scents seem stronger even though there is less air—go figure. :) The ground “crunches” and sparkles beneath your feet—quartz and granite is everywhere as a type of very coarse sand. The weather is dramatic and has a strong freshness about it.
It is said that some in New York City have never been to some of its main attractions—I have never been to Emerald Bay. But now through Dan’s and Pippa’s photographs, I can see what I would look for: how the clear Lake Tahoe water gradates color spectrally near the beach; where the glacial granite (with its lichen and other flora) are located; and finally Emerald Bay’s pristine island. The granite masses, like in the first Emerald Bay photo’s upper left, are impressive up close being many stories high. The forests around Lake Tahoe always seemed to have a gardened, kempt look.
The ominous view of a lake and its “approaching” shore is quite striking.
By the way, where the cozy photo of the television, fireplace, and warm critters was taken exist a panorama of large, wide windows to the left and back that picture frame the great outdoors. A piece of heaven.
The morning after the snow had sprinkled the foot hills and packed the mountain tops must have been definitely brisk. There is something about altitude that takes the edge off of extremely hot or cold weather—maybe it is the thinner air that impedes heat conduction, like a vacuum flask as an extreme analogy.
Utah Bryce Canyon took my breath away. It wasn’t just the altitude. At over 9,000 ft. it’s true I was panting and giddy, but the sheer other-worldliness of the place would have done it anyway. How is it even possible this place exists? Fortunately Bob was on hand to explain once again and I have a new favorite geological term: hoodoos, so named because black magic was surely involved in their creation. Nothing as mundane as erosion. They certainly cast a spell over me and left me breathless and light-headed and somehow, shall we say, inspired? You have to hand it to the early Mormon pioneers. They were fearless and determined in their quest for farmland in this forbidding land. But their naming skills feel somehow lopsided. They had no hesitation in naming a town Virgin, or naming a modest mountain Mary’s Nipple which, unless poor Mary was differently formed, or her fella was feeling the effects of the altitude, bears little resemb...
We women need a bit of space and privacy to tend to things that men have no need (or wish) to know about. You know what I’m talking about - it involves body hair, wax, tweezers, depilatories, razors, dyes, rinses, masks, exfoliation and usually a cruel and ruthless magnifying mirror. We also need time in which to deploy these things. And space. Did I mention space already? And privacy? Somehow I neglected to pack the magnifying mirror and kept forgetting to buy a new one. But there is a mirror in our tiny bathroom and even if the light is harsh it’s good enough to put on some eyebrows and cover up the spots which is all I seem to have time for these days anyway. When I stabbed not only Dan but myself with my toenails one night I realized I’d probably let things go a bit. My legs and feet looked like a hobbit’s, (my armpits were apparently quite fashionable now), my skin was positively scaley. Enough was enough. I decided it was time to...
Washington Big Country. The U.S. of A. (Plus Canada - but let’s not pretend we really think of it as a separate country) and it will take us a year to get around it. requires Big Trailer. So we don’t kill each other. The scenery had better be good and to be clear, I don’t do laundromats. Ever. So I’ll be needing some non-negotiable basic items: washer, dryer, dishwasher, fireplace, proper stove and fridge with proper freezer, and heated, massaging Lazy Boy recliner for my ever expanding ass. ...
You look so assured. Dan a little unmade! Still such adventure. Brings out the best stories.
ReplyDeleteWrong on both counts this time! I was the very much unmade one - extreme weather will do that to me - and Dan was completely assured that all would be well. He was right, of course.
DeleteThis is exciting! Being a former resident of Lake Tahoe, Carson City, Washoe Valley, Reno, and Sparks, I’ve come to know the air is different there—you’re a mile high above sea level … or more. It is crisp. The sky is noticeably a darker blue. The clouds are closer to the ground. The scents seem stronger even though there is less air—go figure. :) The ground “crunches” and sparkles beneath your feet—quartz and granite is everywhere as a type of very coarse sand. The weather is dramatic and has a strong freshness about it.
ReplyDeleteIt is said that some in New York City have never been to some of its main attractions—I have never been to Emerald Bay. But now through Dan’s and Pippa’s photographs, I can see what I would look for: how the clear Lake Tahoe water gradates color spectrally near the beach; where the glacial granite (with its lichen and other flora) are located; and finally Emerald Bay’s pristine island. The granite masses, like in the first Emerald Bay photo’s upper left, are impressive up close being many stories high. The forests around Lake Tahoe always seemed to have a gardened, kempt look.
The ominous view of a lake and its “approaching” shore is quite striking.
By the way, where the cozy photo of the television, fireplace, and warm critters was taken exist a panorama of large, wide windows to the left and back that picture frame the great outdoors. A piece of heaven.
The morning after the snow had sprinkled the foot hills and packed the mountain tops must have been definitely brisk. There is something about altitude that takes the edge off of extremely hot or cold weather—maybe it is the thinner air that impedes heat conduction, like a vacuum flask as an extreme analogy.
I am so happy for you!
Jim, the morning after was indeed quite wonderful. So pretty and the lake behaved itself and didn’t overflow.
Delete