Eastern Sierra Traverse -- the best way to view the Sierra Crest!

[OTG_1]

This past week, we set out on another adventure to the 395 corridor in California, with our eyes set on the Sierra Crest. More specifically, the 250 mile Eastern Sierra Traverse that features some of the best views of the Eastern Sierra Crest that are accessible by a vehicle. Including myself, we had 5 rigs on this adventure, and knowing that it would be a challenging track, I was glad that I'd hit moderately technical trails with everyone in the group at least once! Our plan was to start and finish in Bishop, and hopefully complete the entire loop over the course of four days. But I have to admit, I was a bit concerned we might not make it, as I had been talking to an acquantence who'd done the track just a few weeks before, and he said it was a bit of a slog to complete it over 5 days on the trail-- and he drives a Tacoma versus my 5 ton Ram 3500, which definitely requires slow going on rockier tracks.

I had to take my kid to an orthodontist appoint late Tuesday morning, then I'd push off from the SF Bay Area around noon. The drive was fantastic as traffic was minimal, and I took the scenic route through Yosemite via Tioga Pass. I'd stayed at Tuolumne Meadows with an old friend back in high school, so it's been damn near 30 years since I visited! I faintly remember my visit, but Tuolumne was rather empty and uncrowded compared to Yosemite Valley back then. Not so anymore! I pushed on through taking in the views and it was my first time visiting Tanaya Lake and Tioga Pass. I'll be back-- but probably during the week and during the off season!

Ron and I had been texting over the course of our drive, and I was about 30-45 minutes ahead of him by the time I pulled into Bishop. I hadn't eaten all day, so rather then wait and look at my cell phone, I decided to hit one of the better known burger joints in town, and it certainly delivered. Perhaps too much, because I prefer not to eat 1/2 patties, but I just couldn't help myself! After dinner, I hit the Paiute Palace fuel station for some extremely cheap diesel. I alerted Ron to the cheap fuel and he pulled up a few minutes later.

We topped off our rigs and headed to Buttermilk Country, more specifically the Buttermilk boulders. I'd marked a few potential campsites on Gaia, and it being a Tuesday, I was confident we'd be able to snag one of the prime spots. Five minutes later the pavement turned to dirt and our fulled inflated tires bounced along the washboard road as the sun sank behind the Sierra, and an orange and pink glow began to illuminate the horizon. We made our way around the dirt lot, and were surprised to see nearly a dozen cars still parked as the daylight began to fade into night. I was a bit concerned that with all of these visitors, surely other folks were camped up in the hills just above us.

Rounding the dirt lot, we crossed a cattle gate and then swung a hard right. The hill that stood in front of us WAS STEEP, to the point I wasn't sure Big Blue would make it up the hill. So I through it in 4-low, and like most situations, once I began climbing the hill, it didn't seem as steep as my eyes had led me to believe, but I still need 1st gear in 4low to make it up the hill. The site atop the hill was perfect, relatively flat, surrounded by boulders on one side with fantastic views of the Sierra Crest to our west. We settled in for the night enjoying the pinking hue of the soon to be night sky, and enjoyed a cerveza or two. The following morning we'd meet the rest of our group in town, and begin embarking on our adventure.

Stay tuned because this is gonna be a good one!

Watch the Adventure on the Youtoobz






Pulling into camp. No ones here, score!


I really want to go back and explore the Buttermilk boulders.




The sun illuminating the Sierra Crest the following morning.

 

[the deputy]

Those pictures are absolutely stunning. Looking forward to following along.

 

[OTG_1]

Day 1
The weather was perfect that morning. A slight breeze pushed through the Buttermilk boulders, and watching the morning light illimuninate the Eastern Sierra was pretty spectacular. But we needed to pack up and head into town to meet the group in Bishop.
Shortly after 9, we arrived at our meetup spot where Roberto, Ron, and Sean were eagerly awaiting our arrival. As I'd noted in my previous post, I'd been out at least once with everyone in the group, and some around half a dozen times, so the chat was rather brief.

We climbed back up the familiar stretch of pavement turning back onto dirt. Our first stop ironically would be a quick tour through the Buttermilk Boulders. I used the opportunity to capture some nice drone shots of the group making the steep ascent to our camp from the previous night. After the boulders, we pushed through Buttermilk country aiming to complete the 20-something mile loop and then start working our way to Coyote Flat.
I was wrongly under the impression that the majority of Buttermilk Country loop was a wide, well graded dirt road. Not so! The smoothly graded dirt surface soon gave way to a narrow dirt trail with plenty of rocks. Not that Buttermilk County isn't technical per se, but when you're in a 5 ton full size, you definitely feel all those rocks, even if you have 37" tires! A couple of hours later, we'd completed the loop, all the while taking in the views of the Sierra Crest towering above us. The giant fault that runs beneath the Owen's Valley is the dividing line between two geological provinces. The Sierra Nevada-Cascada to the west, and the Basin Ranges to the east. I could see the White Mountains towering over the valley to our east, and wondered what the Sierra Crest would look like from that vantage point. We'd find out in a few short days!

The final descent down Buttermilk Country is a real doozy! The track follows the spine of a narrow ridgeline, with precipitous dropoffs on either side. If you're not a fan of exposure, this certainly isn't the trail for you because no matter where you look, there it is a few short away. But it made for some nice videos and photos. Soon enough we dropped back onto the pavement and begin making our way to Coyote Flat. I'd mapped out a shortcut to the normal road that most folks take, and it definitely had a few spicey sections, including one incredible steep hill climb at the beginning that was probably around 25 degrees. I was worried my Ram, Big Blue wouldn't make it up, but in 4low, the 5 ton behemoth chugged up the hill just fine. After navigating the .5 miles of moderately technical, yet fun shortcut, we were back on another wide and graded dirt road, which immediately began climbing up the mountain.

Soon we were hitting the switchbacks, which I'm sure some of your are familiar with, and eventually found ourselves traveling through the juniper and pine forest. The heat down in the valley was quickly approaching the high 90s, so our plan was to climb in elevation to escape the furnace int he lowlands. We came upon a camp just big enough for our 5 rigs and stopped to break bread. Even above 7,000', the temps were still well into the 80s, and we used the limited cover of the trees to keep the sun's beating rays at bay.

Pushing on, I watched the elevation in my mapping app steadily climb higher-- 8,000, 9,0000, 10,000! Most of my exploring in the Sierra is typically done along the western slope of the central and northern Sierra. There are certainly opportunities to get above 9,000, but I'm not sure the last time I'd crested 10k feet on the western slope. And while the views of the eastern Sierra are certainly much more impressive than the majority of stuff you'll find along the western slope, I do miss all of the streams, rivers, and lakes you'll find on the other side of the Sierra. It's clear, the high peaks of the Sierra Crest act as a rain shadow, effectively wringing out as much precipitation as possible before storms pass eastward over the Owens Valley and into Nevada.

In the distance, we could see the gently sloping valley of Coyote Flat, which would be on the agenda for the following today. Today, we were headed for the Green Lake viewpoint. When visiting the Coyote Flat area, many folks head for funnel lake, but if you head up towards the Green Lake viewpoint area, you'll be blessed with incredible views of the eastern Sierra Crest. The trail become rougher in many sections, and the final few miles to the viewpoint were filled with plenty of rocky, steep and loose pitches, but we all made it in one piece without any issue.

From the viewpoint one can see several 13ers, and dozens of peaks above 12,000'. South Lakes sits in a massive granite canyon several thousand feet below, and even though a paved road leads to a developed campground (usually not my thing), I figured I'd need to make a visit down there one day. To spot Green Lake, one must walk to the edge of the flat, and the clear snow-melt fed lake comes into view. The viewpoint sits atop a sizable flat, perhaps 3 football fields in size, but we were concerned that with little shelter, we'd be fighting the wind all night (which wasn't bad, but there were a few small gusts here and there that had us worried).

We decided out best bet would be to backtrack and find a site in the trees, which would act as our windbreak. So that's what we did, and after a bit of exploring one of the flatter areas, we found a series of trees that would help muffle any big gusts. With the sun quickly sinking towards the Sierra Crest, we hurriedly rushed to setup camp and make our dinners. With camp above 11,000', I didn't want to tempt fate and wake up with a splitting headache, so I capped myself at 2 cervezas for the night, and made sure I stayed away from anything with an ABV above 5%. There was a palpable energy among the group, and I knew this was going to be a memorable trip for all of us. The sunset was inspiring, but the sunrise the following morning really stole the show.


Buttermilk boulders-- Descending down the steep hill where camp the previous night.


Climbing higher into Buttermilk Country


The majestic Sierra Crest at our backs.


The shortcut towards the road to Coyote Flat. Ron ended up getting his Jeep Rubicon stock in the ditch, but with his triple-locked rubicon, was he quickly self-extracted the Jeep.


The two Rubicons handled the track like champs-- no surprise there!








Made it to the viewpoint!


The alpenglow quickly fading behind the High Sierra.

 

[RealTruck]

Day 1
The weather was perfect that morning. A slight breeze pushed through the Buttermilk boulders, and watching the morning light illimuninate the Eastern Sierra was pretty spectacular. But we needed to pack up and head into town to meet the group in Bishop.
Shortly after 9, we arrived at our meetup spot where Roberto, Ron, and Sean were eagerly awaiting our arrival. As I'd noted in my previous post, I'd been out at least once with everyone in the group, and some around half a dozen times, so the chat was rather brief.

We climbed back up the familiar stretch of pavement turning back onto dirt. Our first stop ironically would be a quick tour through the Buttermilk Boulders. I used the opportunity to capture some nice drone shots of the group making the steep ascent to our camp from the previous night. After the boulders, we pushed through Buttermilk country aiming to complete the 20-something mile loop and then start working our way to Coyote Flat.
I was wrongly under the impression that the majority of Buttermilk Country loop was a wide, well graded dirt road. Not so! The smoothly graded dirt surface soon gave way to a narrow dirt trail with plenty of rocks. Not that Buttermilk County isn't technical per se, but when you're in a 5 ton full size, you definitely feel all those rocks, even if you have 37" tires! A couple of hours later, we'd completed the loop, all the while taking in the views of the Sierra Crest towering above us. The giant fault that runs beneath the Owen's Valley is the dividing line between two geological provinces. The Sierra Nevada-Cascada to the west, and the Basin Ranges to the east. I could see the White Mountains towering over the valley to our east, and wondered what the Sierra Crest would look like from that vantage point. We'd find out in a few short days!

The final descent down Buttermilk Country is a real doozy! The track follows the spine of a narrow ridgeline, with precipitous dropoffs on either side. If you're not a fan of exposure, this certainly isn't the trail for you because no matter where you look, there it is a few short away. But it made for some nice videos and photos. Soon enough we dropped back onto the pavement and begin making our way to Coyote Flat. I'd mapped out a shortcut to the normal road that most folks take, and it definitely had a few spicey sections, including one incredible steep hill climb at the beginning that was probably around 25 degrees. I was worried my Ram, Big Blue wouldn't make it up, but in 4low, the 5 ton behemoth chugged up the hill just fine. After navigating the .5 miles of moderately technical, yet fun shortcut, we were back on another wide and graded dirt road, which immediately began climbing up the mountain.

Soon we were hitting the switchbacks, which I'm sure some of your are familiar with, and eventually found ourselves traveling through the juniper and pine forest. The heat down in the valley was quickly approaching the high 90s, so our plan was to climb in elevation to escape the furnace int he lowlands. We came upon a camp just big enough for our 5 rigs and stopped to break bread. Even above 7,000', the temps were still well into the 80s, and we used the limited cover of the trees to keep the sun's beating rays at bay.

Pushing on, I watched the elevation in my mapping app steadily climb higher-- 8,000, 9,0000, 10,000! Most of my exploring in the Sierra is typically done along the western slope of the central and northern Sierra. There are certainly opportunities to get above 9,000, but I'm not sure the last time I'd crested 10k feet on the western slope. And while the views of the eastern Sierra are certainly much more impressive than the majority of stuff you'll find along the western slope, I do miss all of the streams, rivers, and lakes you'll find on the other side of the Sierra. It's clear, the high peaks of the Sierra Crest act as a rain shadow, effectively wringing out as much precipitation as possible before storms pass eastward over the Owens Valley and into Nevada.

In the distance, we could see the gently sloping valley of Coyote Flat, which would be on the agenda for the following today. Today, we were headed for the Green Lake viewpoint. When visiting the Coyote Flat area, many folks head for funnel lake, but if you head up towards the Green Lake viewpoint area, you'll be blessed with incredible views of the eastern Sierra Crest. The trail become rougher in many sections, and the final few miles to the viewpoint were filled with plenty of rocky, steep and loose pitches, but we all made it in one piece without any issue.

From the viewpoint one can see several 13ers, and dozens of peaks above 12,000'. South Lakes sits in a massive granite canyon several thousand feet below, and even though a paved road leads to a developed campground (usually not my thing), I figured I'd need to make a visit down there one day. To spot Green Lake, one must walk to the edge of the flat, and the clear snow-melt fed lake comes into view. The viewpoint sits atop a sizable flat, perhaps 3 football fields in size, but we were concerned that with little shelter, we'd be fighting the wind all night (which wasn't bad, but there were a few small gusts here and there that had us worried).

We decided out best bet would be to backtrack and find a site in the trees, which would act as our windbreak. So that's what we did, and after a bit of exploring one of the flatter areas, we found a series of trees that would help muffle any big gusts. With the sun quickly sinking towards the Sierra Crest, we hurriedly rushed to setup camp and make our dinners. With camp above 11,000', I didn't want to tempt fate and wake up with a splitting headache, so I capped myself at 2 cervezas for the night, and made sure I stayed away from anything with an ABV above 5%. There was a palpable energy among the group, and I knew this was going to be a memorable trip for all of us. The sunset was inspiring, but the sunrise the following morning really stole the show.

View attachment 853346
Buttermilk boulders-- Descending down the steep hill where camp the previous night.

View attachment 853339
Climbing higher into Buttermilk Country

View attachment 853347
The majestic Sierra Crest at our backs.

View attachment 853341
The shortcut towards the road to Coyote Flat. Ron ended up getting his Jeep Rubicon stock in the ditch, but with his triple-locked rubicon, was he quickly self-extracted the Jeep.

View attachment 853343
The two Rubicons handled the track like champs-- no surprise there!

View attachment 853345

View attachment 853356

View attachment 853355

View attachment 853353
Made it to the viewpoint!

View attachment 853354
The alpenglow quickly fading behind the High Sierra.

Majestic views and so much scenery to take in! Can't wait to read more about your excursion.

 

[OTG_1]

Day 2
Camping at 11,000', we awoke to the crisp but rather brisk mountain air. The group estimated the temps had dropped into the 20s the previous night. One of the dog bowl's had a layer of ice well over 1/2" thick that confirmed our estimations, but poptop I was sleeping in remained rather cozy. I'll chalk that up to having the dog sleep down below instead of the bag of the truck cab. Shasta, being half german shepard and half husky doesn't seem to mind when the temps drop down to around 20F. During our Lassen BDT trip last fall (temps dropped into the high teens two nights), I had bought her a dog blanket, but every morning, the blanket was discarded to the side and her snout was snugly tucked beneath her tail as the way dogs and wolves sleep to retain warmth. Needless to say, unless we're approaching 10F outside (and the camper is undoubtedly warmer with two bodies in it), I don't even bother running the heater or bringing her blanket.

With the Sierra Crest to the west, it was only a matter of time before the rising sun would illuminate the spectacular crags, peaks, and palisades a mile or so across the canyon. I set up my DJI action cam to capture a timelapse of the event, but in the meantime I'd head to camp for breakfast and begin packing for another day on the trail. The plan was to drop down to Coyote Flat and begin making our way down the mountain via the trail that would spit us back out to the Owen Valley somewhere in the Big Pine vicinity. Our plans were to spend two days in the Sierra, and the next two days exploring the White Mountains that parallel this section of the Eastern Sierra, but we'd make a small detour on a descent visiting Funnel Lake.

By 9am the group was fully packed and we hit the trail once again. The trail to the Green Lake viewpoint was littered with rocks and a couple of rather steep hill climbs and descents, but taking it slow, we made it back to the pass that revealed the Sierra Crest the previous day. At somewhere around 11,600' we reached the pass once again, with Coyote Flat visible several miles in the distance. Coyote Flat is just that, a massive sloping flat around a mile wide, but stretches several miles in length, and it's filled with almost entirely knee high brush and other plans. I'm not sure if this qualifies as a high alpine prairie or a high desert prairie, but you won't find this sort of flora and ecosystems on the western slope of the Sierra. Needless to say, it's a bit of a surreal experience, especially with the glacier filled crevices of the high Sierra peaks in the distance.

The sharp rocks and boulder fields turned into smooth dirt roads and two tracks. We made the turn onto the trail that would take us to funnel lake, and those dang rocks reappeared. AdventureTaco had visited many of these same trails back in early summer. Dan had described a trail filled with bowling ball sized rocks on the way to Funnel Lake. Sure there were rocks, but it really didn't seem so bad-- til they were! When you've got a 5 ton rig, boulder strewn trails become your mortal enemy. Coming from a Land Cruiser as my previous rig, it's taken some time to adjust how to manage such trails, and it typically means traveling along in 4-low and typically in first or second gear to module the speed. With the amount of time I was spending in 4-low these first two days, I'd bet we were averaging around 6mpg. Trudging along in 4-low, I did my best to mitigate any side-to-side rocking (lateral motion), where the laws of physics become impossible to overcome. And so the side-to-side rocking commenced for the next 20-30 minutes, but when your rig and it's inhabitants are being subjected to unrelenting punishment, 20 minutes feel more like an hour. But soon enough, the bowl where Funnel Lake sits came into view. The lake couldn't be much further, and it wasn't.
A lone rig was parked at the edge of the lake. I felt a bit intrusive with our 5 rigs rolling up to this serene alpine lake, but the fellow in the rig was happy to chat with our group. He'd been up since the previous day (Wednesday) and said we were the first people to visit the lake since he arrived. I get it, not everyone has the luxury of visiting such places during the week, but from what I've heard, Funnel Lake can get clogged with campers and overlanders on the weekends, which is precisely why I'd opted for us to start in the Sierra as opposed to the White Mountains, which we'd visit on Friday and Saturday. We snapped some photos and reveled at the awesome alpine bowl that Funnel Lake calls home. But remembering the sunset and the sunrise we'd experienced over the Sierra Crest the previous day and this morning, I was certain we'd made the right decision to camp over by the Green Lake Viewpoint.

Leaving Funnel Lake it was more of the same, jagged rocks and bowling ball sized boulders filled the trail for the next 3/4 of a mile. Then the rocks would disappear for short stretches, and suddenly reappear. I could see the trail leading to the treeless prairies ahead, and the rock outcroppings seemed to disappear, and sure enough the trail smoothed out and our pace picked up from 3mph to 15-20mph. The expansive Coyote flat lay at 2 o'clock to our current position. We descended down a series of switchbacks that would spit us out into Coyote Flat. At first glance, what might think you could zoom across Coyote flat in just a few minutes, but looks can be deceiving. Our convoy continued southward climbing slowly up the gently sloping flat until reaching an intersection to the trail that would take us down towards Big Pine. As the trail began to climb, we took the opportunity to pull to the side for a lunch break. With a slight breeze and Coyote Flat several hundred feet in elevation below us, and the Sierra Crest looming to the west, it was a damn nice place to eat lunch.

We figured it would be an easy descent down the mountain, but how wrong we were! The trail continued to climb, largely void of any rocks. Upon reaching the summit, we could see the owens valley 6,000' or so below us-- wow! The trail began to get steeper, and it was evident the soil on this side of the mountain was much looser with little traction along the edge of the trail. With many folks visiting the Coyote Flat area from southern California, it was evident this was there preferred route up and down the mountain. After a short but rather precarious hill climb (due to some mud from a nearby creek), we encountered our first set of obstacles. First, the rigs would need to make it through a rock garden and then around a large boulder and tree that would be a tight squeeze for the full size trucks. The two Rubicons made it through with easy through the rock garden, but Robert was struggling to gain traction with his raptor. Trying to make it over the rocks, his truck did the Toyota-tripod, with one of the front wheels levitating off the ground with the wheel spinning aimlessly in the air. After several more attempts, we stacked a series of rocks. And then the same result. So we stacked more rocks and then started stacking traction boards in hopes his wheels would get the much needed traction they were in search of. And finally his truck found the friction it had been searching for. Roberto nearly got his truck over the largest rock, but ended up getting hung up again. We opted to pull out a tow rope to give him the slight nudge he needed to get unstuck, and it worked. Next up was Sean in in his full size Chevy. The rock stacking and traction boards seemed to do the track, because he made it through pretty easily. Then I was up with Big Blue. I followed the same line as Sean and my truck's front end pointed to the sky. Without any sort of view of the trail and obstacles below me, I needed a spotter. I backed up, called Roberto to spot me, and got through rather easily on my second attempt.

Now it was onto the massive boulder and rock to get around. Ron made it through just fine with his Rubicon, but Keith needed a bit of spotting to make it through. Dang, that had me wondering if a Jeep needed spotting, how would our full size rigs do? It certainly took a bit of time and maneuvering, but as each successive full size truck made it through, the next one made it through even quicker. With Big Blue being the largest truck in the convoy, there was definitely some Austin Powers type maneuvering involved to get through this section of the trail.


Not a bad place to wake up!


I'll definitely have to revisit this corner of the eastern Sierra in the future one day.


Making our way to Funnel Lake.


The last leg of the trail to Funnel Lake is NOT FUN.


The reward-- Funnel Lake!!



Our lunch spot overlooking Coyote Flat.

 

[OTG_1]

Day 2 continued
Ron radioed ahead to let us know there were no major obstacles ahead on the trail. The convoy continued along using 4-low to module our speed down the steep and loose trails. Coming down a rocky and loose section, I could hear some radio chatter about Roberto's truck. I rounded the turn to see a big sweeping and off camber left turn. Robert had take the turn to side, and in the process had gotten stock in the moondust at the edge of the trail. With his front tires searching for traction in an effort to turn left and get back on trail, the truck lurched forward straight towards another giant boulder as he gave it throttle. I figured this would be a rather quick an easy recovery, but how wrong I'd end up being. The original plan was to try and winch Robert out via one of his rear recovery points. Sean's truck was perched on the same steep and loose hill as Big Blue, and upon attemping to winch Robert, his truck began to slip down the hill. So I attached my winch to Sean's truck as an anchor. And the winching commended once again, but we couldn't get Roberto's truck in a position that would allow him to get back on the trail. So next Keith attached a front two rope to the front of Roberto's truck hoping to counter balance the tow force pulling at the rear of the truck, in hoping that it would allow us to keep the front in closer to the trail. After several attempts it was clear this wasn't working.

Just off the trail lie a series of bowling ball sized rocks and lots of brush. Running out of options, I proposed we get rid of the front to step, and simply winch Robert from the back of his truck. But this time he would reverse slowly, purposefully driving off the trail through all of the crud I'd just explained. This would allow us to have his wheels better line up with the winch line, and then we could begin extracting his truck up the hill and eventually he'd be able to turn back on the trail. And what do ya know, it worked like a charm. If it hadn't been for all those rocks and brush, I would've proposed this as our first option, but recognizing these sort of objects create a greater risk for damage, I felt it wasn't a suitable option for Plan A or even B, but it worked!

All of the rock stacking, winching, running up and down the hill at 9,000' was taking a toll on us. What I thought would be a 10-15 minute recovery lasted a good 90 minutes. The shadows were growing long, and Ron was several miles down the trail waiting for out status. Back on track we commenced making our way down the mountain. I watched Gaia GPS on my ipad (mapping app), and could see we were below 9k feet, then 8k, then 7k. Since Robert had become stuck, I was being extra precautious with big blue, recognizing the sizes of the trail didn't have much traction. And then it happened, somehow my left tires had gotten just a bit to close to the trail. I'd tried a few different maneuvers to get unstock, but it was clear the moondust wouldn't bless my best wishes to self-exract big blue. I radioed ahead to Sean, and unlike the rock stacking and previous recovery, I was unstuck in less than five minutes after some quick winching.

Now I was driving even slower and more cautious than before. There was a big sweeping righ hand turn with a large ditch caused from erosion on my right. I purposefully took the turn extra wide, but perhaps just a tad to slow as my rear end immediately began sliding and found myself in the ditch. Attemping to drive out, Big Blue turned leftward with one of my rear tires fully in the 30' ditch at the other at the lip of it. I radioed to Sean once again. He drove up and we had a quick discussion that I may be able to actually drive out of the ditch, and sure enough, with all of that extra weight, the tire sitting on the lip had more than enough traction to pull the hulking blue beast from that dreadful ditch!

It was now approaching 6pm, and we needed to find camp. Our planned track was to continue on dirt southward, but I proposed we jump onto the 395 to head south to find camp. Since it was late summer, fire restrictions were in full effect, but we had firewood and wanted to enjoy the warmth of a campfire. After a short stint on highway 395, and being passed by numerous big rigs (we were still aired down), we jumped onto a series of side roads that eventually turned to a large, graded dirt road. The rest of the group had turned back to refuel in Big Pine, but since I've got a 52 gallon tank, I said I'd go ahead and check out a series of county campgrounds that Inyo County manages. The first one wasn't very impressive, and then after visiting the second one, I could tell there were all quite similar. I ended up finding a nice open spot at Taboose Creek campground with a decent amount of privacy from our neighbors. The north side of camp seemed to have much larger spots, and this is where the RVs and large 5th wheels were parked. But on our side, we only had one neighbor about 50 yards away. We settled into camp, enjoying our drinks around the unneeded campfire (temps were still in the 70s after sunset) while recounting the mildly harrowing events that had taken place earlier that day.


Looking down at Owens Valley from the pass, and the steep descent ahead.


This obstacle proved to be a challenge for the full size rigs.


And 50 yards down the trail was this tight squeeze that was another challenge for the big boys.


Robert's Raptor in a rather precious position.


90 minutes later we'd finally gotten him back on the trail!


As much as you may want to look at the views, you've gotta concentrate to keep your eyes on the trail.

 

[OTG_1]

Day 3
Camping in the lowlands of the Owens Valley, the temperature was still around 70F around 10pm. Upon waking up the next day, temps were already into the 60s, and by the time the sun peeked over the White Mountains to the east, temps steadily climbed to 70F and beyond. From Taboose Creek, we'd cross Hwy 395 and follow a network of dirt roads that would parallel the highway until reaching Mazourka Canyon. On our way to Mazourka Canyon, a pair of F35 fighter jets flew low through the Owens Valley, with a thunderous rumble that followed as they flew northward.

We swung a left onto Mazourka Canyon, and I was a bit surprised how well graded the road was. Mazourka Canyon would act as our gateway into the White Mountains. A few miles up the road, heavy construction equipment was actively grading the road, which really just consisted of spreading the broken rocks and gravel in a neat fashion across the width of the road. Mazourka Canyon was mildly impressive, but perhaps the beating sun and rising temps had me seeking the cooler temperatures at elevation. Eventually, Mazourka Canyon (or at least the road through it) spits out at Badger Flat. A pair of EarthRoamers were perched high up on the flat, with impressive views of the Eastern Sierra Crest several miles across the valley. We stopped for lunch, as Roberto needed to take a work call at the mouth of Mazourka Canyon where he still had cell service. Luckily, Roberto has a Raptor, and just as we were dropping our tail gates, we could see a plume of dust in the distance. While I'd launched the drone to take some video that inevitably slowed the group down, I'd guess it took us around 45 minutes to reach badger flat after leaving Roberto. He said he made it up to badger flat in less than 20 minutes! Needless to say, we enjoyed our lunches amongst the juniper trees, looking on to Mazourka Peak in the distance.

After lunch, we made a beeline to Mazourka Peak. The trail gets steep with some exposure along the way, but it's nothing that a stock AWD vehicle couldn't handle. The views atop the peak were impressive as expected. Event above 9,000 feet, it was a bit warm but a constant breeze kept us refreshed. From Mazourka Peak, I could see the large flat and strange rock formations that Papoose Flats is famous for. It was barely past noon, and event with several miles of rocky track ahead of us, I suspected we'd reach Papoose Flats by 2pm. This would put us well ahead of schedule, as I had planned for the group to camp at Papoose Flats.

We weaved in an out of the pine and juniper forest, up and down several steep inclines that featured plenty of sharp and loose rocks. It wasn't technical per se, but you definitely needed to keep an eye on your line so as not to tear a sidewall. And just as I'd suspected, we rolled into Papoose Flats about 90 minutes later, with the sun beating down on us. The group pulled into the largest campsite in the flat, which happens to be right next to a large rock formation with an arch, providing some much needed shade. It was easily in the mid 80s, perhaps warmer. I propositioned to the group that we take a quick snack break, and keep on moving until early evening, which wasn't a difficult sell given the heat at Papoose Flats.
As you leave Papoose Flats, the trail traverses a series of small flats, and small canyons, all of which are choked with sagebrush. I was having flashbacks of High Rock Canyon in northern Nevada, where burly and mature sagebrush chokes the trail, scratching the body panels of my full size rig like nails on a chalkboard. Luckily, the trail was wide enough in most places that Big Blue only sustained minimal pinstriping.

Soon enough we entered a section of trail simply known as the Narrows. There were a few rocky sections where the full size rigs needed some spotting. Pushing onwards, the canyon walls continue to creep towards the trail. As we stopped to investigate a dilapidated old cabin, someone radioed ahead that I had a flat tire. Dang it! Upon initial inspection, the sidewalls looked in tact. And without a verifiable hissing sound, we though maybe I'd burped a bead going over one of the big rock obstacles. We inflated the tire, and soon enough it began to hiss. My Nitto Ridge Grapplers had less than 8k miles on them, and somehow I sustained a puncture straight through one of the beef treadblocks! We got to work hoping to plug the puncture, but anytime you try to plug a 10-12 ply tire, especially through a treadblock, it's gonna be a beast of a job-- and it was! It took a good 20-30 minutes, with the help of a rubber mallet just to get the reamer tool (or whatever ARB calls this tool in their plug kit) through the tread block. Then we made multiple attempts to plug the puncture, only to have it leak each time. We'd try stuffing 2-3 plugs in, with no success. So after an hour's time, we finally decided to use my full size spare. Once that decision was made, we were back on the road in about 10 minutes.
At this point, it was around 4:30 pm, and we were perhaps only half way through the narrow, rocky, and slow going trails of the Narrows. Our map showed a big flat area up ahead with several mining prospects. Usually locations like this have at least a few camps. We spread out across the flat exploring the 3 or so different trails, none of which had a camp suitable for our 5-rig convoy. So we pushed on, and the trail began to descend to the highway. The shadows growing longer, it was evident we had maybe another 30 minutes of daylight. At this point, we opted to hit the pavement and drive into the White Mountains.

By the time we reached the Owens Valley, the sky was illuminated in a flourescent pink and orange hue, and all of our headlights were on. We'd climb back up the mountain and check the Cedar Group Camps to see if anything was available. After spending 10 minutes scouring for any extra sights, it was evident that every possible camp was taken. Robert had crossed the highway to check some nearby dirt roads out. He radioed back that he'd found a suitable camp for us about 2 minutes from the group camps. The convoy regathered, and we crossed the pavement following Roberto's directions. At this point it was pitch black, but we easily found Roberto and there was just enough room for our 5 rigs to set up camp comfortably. We pulled into camp around 7:30pm, and eagerly rushed to our fridges in search of some ice cold beer. Ron ended up cooking a massive tri tip steak for the group, which really hit the spot!

The next day we'd head high into the White Mountains and hike the ancient bristlecone pine forests, before dropping back down to the Owens Valley.


Heading into Mazourka Canyon.




These EarthCruisers had the perfect camp at Badger Flat!


The view atop Mazourka Peak.


Lots of rocky trails on the way to Papoose Flats.


Papoose Flats.


With little shade to be had, we weren't stocking around Papoose Flats long!


Making our way through the Narrows.


Tragedy strikes yet again. This is the 3rd Nitto Ridge Grappler I'd need to replace in 15 months. The punctured was actually two gashes, and the local tire shop said it couldn't be plugged :/


Ron's tri tip was on point later that night!

 

[OTG_1]

Day 4
Day 4 would be our final day on the trail, by the time we'd reach Owens Valley, we'd clock in over 250 miles, the vast majority of it being on dirt. Day 3 was definitely a slog, but since we put in the extra mileage, it looked like day 4 would be an easy one with relatively mild trails. I took Shasta for an early morning hike around camp as she was definitely starting to channel her husky half, meaning she was starting to get a bit neurotic from the lack of exercise. We explored the juniper and pine forest, and I was surprised to see there were a number of other [vacant] campsites in the vicinity. Good to know for next time! Back at camp, the boys were already beginning to pack things up, so I figured I'd better join in and ready the truck for launch. As the trip leader, I do my best to never to get everything ready to go on schedule. Since we'd covered so much ground the previous day, I moved our push off time back to 9:30, instead of the typical 9am departure.

The itinerary for the day included a stop at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Visitor Center, driving to the end of the road, a hike/stop at one of the ancient pine forests, and then making our way down Silver Canyon back to the Owens Valley. Just a coulple miles after jumping on pavement, I noticed a viewpoint on my map, and sure enough, a large Inyo NF sign indicated this was Sierra View-- so of course we had to stop! Nearly 10,000 up, the views were impressive, but smoke was starting to blow in from wildfires in the greater Los Angeles area. I was glad we got to catch the Sierra Crest the previous 3 days when visibility was fantastic. We snapped some photos and made the short hike down to the viewpoint. Upon returning back to our rigs, we noticed a couple of beat up old cars with plenty of decals. Apparently the Gambler 500 was running an event through the White Mountains and the surrounding area.

Continuing up the mountain, we made our planned stop at the visitor center. A few of the guys went for a short hike through the ancient bristlecone pine forest, while I opted to explore the various exhibits within the visitor center. Sure enough, more beat up old cars rolled in, and I could see many of these folks were wearing flourest yellow Gambler 500 t-shirts. They all seemed to be in good spirits enjoying the day.

Upon regrouping, we were on the move again, with the pavement soon turning to a wide and graded dirt road. The high mountain landscape really began to open up with pale-khaki mountain slopes surrounding us-- it was evident how the White Mountains got their name. The forest began to disappear as we climbed here, but we could see isolated groves of some sort of pine off in the distance. As we rounded a turn, we came upon a VW Kombi stranded on the side of the road. I pulled around trying to get in front to see what was going on, and in the process a rather loud and belligerant woman began to yell in my direction about helping them. A bit aggrivated by her volume and tone of voice, I firmly told her I needed to pull the truck around to the front so as not to block the road.

Upon exiting the vehicle, it was obvious she was incredibly inebriated. The drive (her boyfriend, friend??), explained they ran out of momentum, and with the steep grade and high elevation, the VW was struggling to get up the hill. He asked for a tow to a higher section where they could get the Kombi going with enough momentum to join their friends (Gambler 500 folks) at the end of the road. I happily obliged and begin digging through my gear to find my tow straps. I began securing the strap to my vehicle when our drunken friend began fumbling with the other end trying to attach it to the flimsy bumper of the Kombi. I explained we'd need to secure the tow strap to something much more durable-- and she immediately began giving me attitude. My patience began to wear thing as this continued on for a couple more minutes, until I snapped back at her that we didn't need help from a drunk, which sent her stumbling down the hill to complain to the other folks in my group. A few minutes later, the Kombi was at the top of the steep grade, and we sent them on their way, but it wouldn't be the last time we ran into them.

I wanted to get some drone shots as we neared the end of the road. If you haven't been to the White Mountains, the barren landscape has a rather alien feel to it. 20 minutes or so later, we'd made it to the end of the road, where a gate impedes further access to the top of White Mountain. A big flat area affords another awesome view of the Sierra Crest across the Owens Valley. I was surprised to come to a parking lot with around 2 dozen vehicles, as we'd only seen 3-4 Gambler 500 vehicles on the way up. A few of the guys in the group let me know the VW had pasted them on the way up (I guess I was busy flying the drone) and the drunken female passenger decided to flip them the bird-- ******?!

On the way back down the mountain I could see a number of cars pulled off to the side and folks gathering on a small knoll to take photos. Our friends in the Kombi were with them. I slowed down to express my frustration-- and rhetorically asked the girl, "So we help tow your bus up the mountain, and you thank us by flipping us the bird? That's not cool!." She yelled back it was just a joke and she was having fun. At this point, several other people in the Gambler 500 group also began to show their discontent with her. I'd caught wind of the aftermath, apparently she was incredibly rude to the staff at the visitor center, and upon hearing about our interaction with her, she was banned from any future Gambler 500 events.

Still relatively early in the day, we stopped by the Patriarch Grove for lunch. Unlike the trails around the visitor center, there were only a few other vehicles in the lot, and the forest was filled with the gnarled pines that the ancient bristlecones are known far. I didn't wander too far from the lot, but I was still in awe of this ancient trees, some of which may have been alive when the pyramids of Egypt were being built! I really do want to come back under the full moon to hike through the forest. I love the peacefulness and serenity of redwood forests along California's north coast. The ancient bristlecone pines also resonated deeply with my soul, but in a totally different way that I'm having difficulty describing.

Our trip would end going down the steep and numerous switchbacks of Silver Canyon. While not technical per se, the road is steep enough and with plenty of exposure that you'll be concentrating on keeping your vehicle from flying off the side of the mountain for most of the way down. Near the final switchbacks, the rugged beautify of Silver Canyon really comes into view. It was early afternoon, but I wished I'd had the opportunity to drive the canyon closer to dusk, when the sun's light softens. Finally make it to the bottom, we'd pass through a half dozen or more water crossings weaving between the canyon's rugged golden walls. Barely 3pm, we were out of the canyon and back onto pavement. With a long drive back to the Bay Area, those of us from northern California decided to head through Yosemite and find camp just outside of the park's western entrance. We said our good byes to the other guys and began the drive along the 395 towards Tioga Pass.


Heading high into the White Mountains.


Giving a tow to the Kombi. The inebriated female passenger would flip our group off on the way back down?!


End of the Road! The road up the White Mountains features some of the highest elevation roads that can be driven in California (just under 12k feet).




Trees from the Patriarch Grove.


The start of the switchbacks in Silver Cnayon. You can see the smoke choked Owens Valley in the distance.


Owens Valley is just around the corner!