Confusion Hill

We do try to keep our journeys rational and high brow. Yet, every once and a while, we can't help but be pulled in by a pseudoscientific tourist trap:
We do try to keep our journeys rational and high brow. Yet, every once and a while, we can't help but be pulled in by a pseudoscientific tourist trap:
Once we had explored Glass Beach, it was time to head up the coast and inland to the redwoods. Yet, not far outside of Fort Bragg, we came across the Pacific Star Winery tasting room, perched atop the ocean bluffs. Along with its stunning views and pleasant owner, the winery sports a solid Tempranillo.
Last night, the temperatures plummeted but this morning we woke up hot. The sun beat down on our truck shell giving us the extra spur to get up and head out early. The tide tables indicated that low tide would be at 8am. I must have read them wrong because it was high tide when we arrived at the shore. All the same, we trotted out to glass beach, an accidental oddity on the California coast.
With the fire behind us but on our mind, we were extra conscientious campers today. We headed due west for Mendocino. The drive spanned the temperature gamut: from 100 degree golden rolling hills, spotted with oak, to 56 degrees in the Redwoods, overlooking Fort Bragg. Our destination was Russian Gulch campground. Apparently, it was the destination of many, because the grounds were filled by the time we arrive. Fortunately, the ranger not only advised us on where to go instead but called ahead and arranged for the last spot to be held for us. We arrived in MacKerricher State Park campground 15 minutes later and happily paid for out camp site.
Hindu Temple nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains, California
After days of camping and a pungent reminder of the warm showers we had been missing, we decided to wrap up this leg of the journey with a night's stay in a hotel. Given our trajectory, we figured Lake Tahoe was the logical stop. I was determined to not step outside of the hotel from check in to check out. It would be a lazy evening of food, wine, and meditating on our adventures thus far. Happily, we were upgraded to a room on the 12th floor. From it, we could see the lake and the mountains on the California side.
Bodie is the gold standard of ghost towns. Where other ghost towns have ten or so old buildings in varying degrees of disrepair or renovation, Bodie may only have 10% of its original structures but that still accounts for 110 structures preserved in a state of arrested decay. There is a stamp mill with it's original machinery literally falling through the floor, off kilter structures, and occasional doorways that lead to...nowhere.
It's hard to believe that just a few days ago we were sweating it out in Death Valley. Now, we are perched above June Lake, with a view that takes reservations to procure, and a smug sense of satisfaction. The only down side with the picturesque Oh! Ridge Campground, though, is the wind. It sweeps over the lake and hits us with a ferocity that I though was reserved for a response to the dozens. I haven't said anything mean about June Lake's mama, but the wind is certainly fierce.
The Bishop Tuff is one of the more unique volcanic formations in the world. It was formed over 700,000 years ago when an explosion settled tons of ash over Owens Valley and then covered the ash with molten lava. The heat from the lava converted the ash into rock. While the Tuff stretches between both Mono and Inyo counties, the point of greatest interest is where the Tuff comes up against Lake Crowley. Here, continuous wear from the lake's tides has cut away at the weaker ash-stone to form columns, pillars, and even caves.
After our hike, we were exhausted. Fortunately, I had already done the preparation work for tonight's dinner that morning. Now, with my dogs barking and my calves screaming, it was time to set up the fire and sit down to chop apples for another round of experiments in campfire cooking.