Chazz Layne

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Mon, 11 Jul 2011 13:12:05 -0700

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Mon, 04 Jul 2011 10:00:06 -0700

Route 66

Sun, 26 Jun 2011 21:24:00 -0700

Route 66

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Sat, 25 Jun 2011 12:14:06 -0700

Colorado Belle – Laughlin, Nevada

Fri, 24 Jun 2011 22:41:06 -0700

Colorado Belle – Laughlin, Nevada

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Thu, 23 Jun 2011 18:39:06 -0700

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Mon, 20 Jun 2011 14:01:06 -0700

beer + espresso + aged in bourbon oak cask = winning

Sun, 19 Jun 2011 14:44:00 -0700

beer + espresso + aged in bourbon oak cask = winning

SFO - PHX - PRC

Fri, 03 Jun 2011 18:19:00 -0700

Christian took us out for a great breakfast at Squat & Gobble before loaning us a car for the day. Armed with a few pointers on the best options for our San-Francisco-in-an-hour tour, we managed to squeeze in a drive around downtown, a walk from the Embarcadero down to Fisherman’s Wharf, and a bike-taxi ride back to the car before our flight to Arizona.

Naturally, arriving at the airport on-time we arrived at the security checkpoint to find no lines. Fortunately, the airport has free WiFi and decent taste in wines. We discovered another tasty zinfandel, Rosenblum, while waiting in the bar next to our gate. Surprisingly, wine is cheaper by the glass here at SFO than it is by the bottle. Even more surprising, zinfandel actually tastes good with a toasted bagel and cream cheese.

A lot has changed since the last time I flew. I can’t get plain old peanuts anymore, the menu has quadrupled in size, and they have a tolerable mojito which comes in a little foil pouch that looks like it came from NASA. Our flight is running late so we’ll have about 15 minutes to get to the Prescott shuttle, plenty of time since we are flying without luggage (UPS is cheaper than paying the bag fee). I can’t help but laugh as the cute “credit stewardess” attempts to sell us on the US Airways MasterCard.

Back in Arizona

Fri, 03 Jun 2011 18:19:00 -0700

Back in Arizona

San Francisco

Fri, 03 Jun 2011 01:30:00 -0700

San Francisco

Crossing the Sierras

Thu, 02 Jun 2011 23:48:00 -0700

A late morning in the canyon, the sun finally hit us around 09:30. With clear skies and plenty of time we wandered our way north along the Walker river towards Monitor Pass in search of some fresh coffee.

We found our coffee at the Woodsford General Store, along with gigantic tablespoon-sized packets of powered brown sugar. Woodsford was once a way station of the Pony Express, and is the last little town you reach before climbing up and over Carson Pass to the west.

Just below Carson Pass the west fork of the Carson River winds across Hope Valley, a wide open (and very soggy) meadow. Creek after creek seep through the rock, grass and fire-orange brush to join the river before it roars down West Carson Canyon and into Nevada. This is quite possibly the coziest little mountain meadow I’ve been in, a tiny green world all to itself. I would love to have a small cabin right here.

The Sierras behind us, we crossed the many farms, vineyards, and marshes of the massive Central Valley. In hindsight, I should have planned for more time in this area so we could visit the many wineries in the Lodi area. Sunset was beautiful, and after a couple hours and several bridges we were looking at the San Francisco skyline.

Racing Snow

Wed, 01 Jun 2011 20:49:00 -0700

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…

Neighbors

Wed, 01 Jun 2011 18:00:00 -0700

Neighbors

Summer Camping

Wed, 01 Jun 2011 17:00:00 -0700

Summer Camping

Death Valley to Black Lake

Tue, 31 May 2011 19:54:00 -0700

Morning blasted through the open window, brighter and earlier than any civilized day ever should. At least, that was Danielle’s feeling on the matter.

Moments later she had figured out how to work the blinds and gone back to sleep. Meanwhile, I took a pre-breakfast hike to explore the abandoned RV park we pulled into not 5 hours earlier. I’m not sure what it is that makes me this way, but now I do know it isn’t the tent. Despite a very comfortable bed, we are “camping” so I am awake and ready to start the day before the sun.

After breakfast we got on the road and moved quickly through Death Valley. I know we’ll be back to cover that ground in detail on some future trip, so I didn’t want to burn the daylight there. We did make a stop in Panamint Springs to rest the truck after crossing Towne Pass, and pick up some much needed sarsaparilla.

We passed quickly through the blowing gray sands of Owens Lake, where I spotted a dirt road cut into the eastern slope of the Sierras that I simply must take some day. I have a hunch it leads to a certain pristine lake I’ve been wanting to visit. We rolled into Lone Pine on fumes where we finally began our exploration in earnest. For diesel fuel.

At first I was impressed – the GMC had hauled the Bigfoot over 460 miles on less than one tank of fuel. Then I realized this beast holds 40 gallons. Still, the Discovery couldn’t make that kind of range, and our faith was rewarded with prices a full two dollars per gallon lower. With a full tank and ahead of schedule it was time to wander.

Manzanar is a sad chapter in American history, which takes place in a breathtakingly beautiful valley bordered on either side by snow-capped mountains. This site was once an internment camp for Japanese-Americans during World War II, and much effort has been spent documenting, preserving, and in some cases, rebuilding the history. The compound is massive, and the self-tour is done by auto – a good thing given the freezing wind bearing down on us. Manzanar also has a big airport, which doesn’t seem to have been used in decades…

Arriving in the town of Bishop, we set about finding the world-famous Erick Schat’s Bakkerÿ. It didn’t take long: it’s the building in the center of town with cars everywhere and a line of people stretching out to the sidewalk. Next we began the search for parking. This took longer (tip: park in the park, across the street). Of course, by the time we parked and crossed the highway the crowd was gone and there was plenty of parking.

Beware the Bakkerÿ – the food is fantastic and the prices are surprisingly fair. If you’re not careful you’ll wind up leaving totally stuffed with a truck full of breads, cakes and pastries. For the rest of the drive the only food we would pick up was a bag of lunch meat and cheese to make sandwiches of our bread, and we still had left-overs when we reached San Francisco.

Several pounds heavier, we continued north only to be stopped at a roadblock on the edge of town. High winds had closed Highway 395 all the way to the Nevada border. The Cal-trans worker did not believe us when we told him the tons of bread on board were more than enough to anchor us against any wind the Sierras might throw at us. Our course decided for us, we took the low road north to Benton (US Highway 6).

Benton ain’t much: a few houses, an abandoned bar, and a tiny gas station / general store / café that was dwarfed by the ice cream truck parked outside. There’s even less in Benton Hot Springs, just over the hill: a bed & breakfast, several decaying ruins, a now-closed general store dated 1852, a collection of antique farming equipment, and of course - hot springs. Benton Hot Springs is clearly the “original” town, built long before the highways in the valleys below. It’s also far prettier. Trees, meadows, and farmland fill the valley, and boulder-strewn foothills lead up to snow-covered mountains. The road west climbs quickly into the mountains, and we soon found a secluded campsite for the night nestled in the pines and overlooking Black Lake.

Time for some of that famous pound cake while we watch the sun set.

Home for Tonight

Tue, 31 May 2011 18:32:00 -0700

Home for Tonight

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Tue, 31 May 2011 15:54:00 -0700

Prescott to Death Valley

Mon, 30 May 2011 22:34:00 -0700

My first “assignment” in my new position with the Journal is to move a Bigfoot up to San Francisco. A Bigfoot is a well-insulated, 3,000-pound “cabin” that sits in the back of a pickup truck, in this case a GMC 2500 Diesel. It needs to be there by the morning of June 3rd.

Dani has joined me on this 1,200-mile test drive so we can evaluate the pros and cons of an “overlander” this large, though we will be sticking to tarmac for the most part. The plan is to retrace part of a trip we did back in June of 2000, and hit a few of the little places we missed last time – like Bodie and Yosemite. For sentimental reasons (and a luggage-free return flight) we’ve left most of our gear behind, and will figure the route out as we go using a paper map and our open eyes.

We pulled out of Prescott far later than planned this ~~morning~~ afternoon, but we had already decided to skip the Route 66 part of the trip since we live right next to it. The campsites I picked out on Lake Mead and the Colorado didn’t look too appealing either so we pushed onward into the sunset.

The first “pro” we’ve noticed with the Bigfoot is that no matter where we are, all we have to do is pull off the road and open the door – the kitchen, dining room and bathroom are always ready to use. After a quick bite to eat in the foothills northwest of Las Vegas, we made for the eastern border of Death Valley and an abandoned RV park I had only read about. What it lacks in shoreline, it more than makes up for in eerie silence and desolate beauty.

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Mon, 30 May 2011 21:38:00 -0700