Skip to main content

Sierra's - 5 Years Later | Prt. 2

In this episode (171) – 5 Years Later - Part 2 . . .


In last week's episode, we explored the reality of Wilderness camping. This week allow me to share a story that spread like wildfire during our 2022 Sierra adventure. (Photos on YouTube)


First, as an intrepid explorer, you must come to terms with today's world, which you have no control over, that mandates your experience, like it or not. You must be flexible and able to adapt to rapidly changing situations, from freeway traffic patterns to accidents, road construction, and, frankly, drivers who cannot back a truck with a grotesque, overly sized motor home attached. So, my friends, a positive frame of mind is essential as you begin your Wilderness adventure.


For Brendan and me, it began that first day. Of course, it was Labor Day weekend. And we did NOT have a reservation for our first night in a public campground at ~9,000 feet. As a last-ditch option, we were considering sleeping parked along the roadside in the back of the truck. We live at sea level in Vista/Encinitas, and starting at the trailhead at such a high elevation is rather painful: headaches, nausea, and an inability to breathe.


"Don't worry; let's see what comes up?"


In Little Lakes Valley, there are public campgrounds that are first-come-first-served. Our goal is to arrive early afternoon—the drive is estimated to take nearly six hours.
"You know what this means; we must be on the road by 6:30 a.m. at the latest."

Thankfully, the drive was without incident. We arrived at the first campground around 1:00 p.m.


"There are two public campgrounds; let's start with the East Fork Campground, 8,900-foot elevation."


As we pulled into that campground, we considered viable sites.


"Looks pretty crowded, lots of motorhomes. Let's try the one up the road."


We were only a few yards in when this guy driving a RAM Tough Monster Truck with extended mirrors and an oversized camper tried to back into his chosen (VW Van size) - Site #2 just beyond the entrance gate. If you've ever tried maneuvering a trailer into a space too small at an odd angle, you can imagine what happened next. He missed his parking spot and backed the camper off the road; his double-wide axle straddled a wooden fence constructed from railroad ties. He was stuck! Blocking the only entrance/exit to the campground.


Within minutes, the camp host pulled up in a converted golf cart.


"You guys looking for a campsite? Here's the list of available sites left. Take a photo of this list and let me know if you have any questions."

Well, that did it. We had turned our truck around, first in line to leave, to check out the next campsite. Not today! At least for another hour, possibly two.

"This guy is going to be stuck for a while. Let's camp here."

We picked a secluded site near the river near the entrance and pitched our tents.


The Ranger called in the maintenance crew to take out the fence. That dude with his oversized rig blocked the entrance for over two hours, and lines of cars backed up in both directions for a quarter of a mile.


Hah, ha - this was our FIRST-afternoon fiasco. Oh, brother, what could possibly be next?


The good news was that our first night was glorious once we settled in. We fished Rock Creek and caught our evening dinner, fresh trout. As bedtime approached, we made our way to the clean, beautiful restroom with flush toilets, running water, and a portable space heater—all for $15.50 a night with the Senior discount. What more could you ask? Serendipity, one man's dilemma, turned into our good fortune that first night!


The adventure continues . . . 


I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next episode.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

The Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...
2 comments
Read more

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...
1 comment
Read more

A Holiday Reflection–Mother's Love

In this episode,  How a Mother’s Love Built My Memories– A Holiday Reflection As this holiday season approaches and the world buzzes with shopping, planning, and busy schedules, I find myself embracing something wonderfully simple: taking a moment to pause. Not to check off a list or recharge devices, but to breathe deeply, remember fondly, and honor the person and place that have shaped my sense of home long before I had the words for it. This year, after regaining my strength from a lingering post-travel fog, my mind didn’t wander to exotic destinations or future adventures. It drifted backward—across oceans and time—to Cuba, Illinois, in the early 1960s, and to the woman whose love built the foundation of my world: Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom . We came to Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition so dramatic I only appreciate its enormity now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped off that plane and into the Midwest with a courage that s...
1 comment
Read more

Believing Is Seeing

🎄 In this episode, Believing Is Seeing . . . It's December, we bustle, we wrap, and we dash. We sort life into boxes— myths  here,  to-dos  in a stash. We whisper of Santa (adult code: “Not Real”), but hold on one minute—let’s rethink this whole deal. For the stories we cherish, the movies we stream, hold more truth in their sparkle than we grown-ups may deem. So hop in this sleigh and hold on real tight— We’re chasing down Santa by the glow of his light! Scott Calvin once landed in the North Pole’s cold air, with elves, cocoa, and snow everywhere. He squinted and frowned—“This just  cannot  be so!” (Like thinking tangled lights will detangle if we  blow .) Then Judy the Elf gave a cocoa so steaming,  and said something simple . . . yet surprisingly gleaming: Seeing’s not believing—no, that’s not the key. "Believing is seeing!"   Just trust, and  you’ll  see!” Kids don’t need a map or a satellite screen to know Santa’s workshop is her...
1 comment
Read more