Category: 2024 Travels

Death Valley National Park is one of the largest of all of the national parks. As such, and because it is the hottest, driest, and lowest, with very few amenities and services within the park, one needs to be aware of the logistics involved in doing things. This is our third visit with a Dory, and it was our favorite by far. How we get to and from the valley does seem to have an impact on my general impressions of the visit, and I will just say that taking Highway 190 from the southern approach is by far a less intense experience than taking the section of 190 from the north, between Keeler and Stovepipe Wells. For this trip, coming from Red Rock Canyon, we continued past Red Rock and over the Spring Mountains pass. I had avoided this route last time due to weather, and that was probably a good call. On a sunny day with no wind, it was lovely, going up and over a mild grade with gentle turns and passing lanes, and then passed through the comparative metropolis of Pahrump. There are all kinds of services here, including a Pinkbox Doughnuts located in the Pahrump Nugget Casino. We had seen billboards for this chain outside of Las Vegas, and apparently finding one had become a life goal for Richard. As we slowly drove through town, Richard spied the big pink door and said, “I want a Pinkbox doughnut.” I thought, “Got it, good to know,” in my head. He then more urgently noted that the driveway into the parking lot was imminent. I said, “You mean right now this minute? Like, you want me to pull over and stop?” “Yes, obviously!” he insisted. I now understand that when he makes doughnut or ice cream statements like that, he means for me to pull over immediately. With the dizzying array of choices, we limited ourselves to splitting a John Lemon and a chocolate glazed old fashioned. They were probably the best doughnuts we have had, and we’re comparing that to Johnny’s Donuts, a highly superior, gold standard, place located right in our home town.

The rest of the drive down into the valley was a slow coast with little traffic. We did not have reservations because we were planning to stay in the first come, first serve lot in Texas Springs. We have since learned that they do not allow generators, which complicates things like charging my e-bike batteries. So, we shifted to finding out whether there were any cancellations sites available in Furnace Creek, and as a last resort, we’d set up in the parking lot campground of Sunset. In fact, there was one small site available in Furnace Creek, so we took it, backed in, and got the blessing from a passing park ranger that it was ok to have wheels on the dirt. This later turned out to be false information and we had to move Dory onto the short paved pad and park Bruce in overflow parking by the bathroom. Annoying. We were also quite dismayed to find the dump to be in the worst state we’ve ever encountered in ten years of trailer camping. Without a hookup site in Furnace Creek, I now think there is really no advantage to staying there. Generally, the camp hosts seem a little more uptight, perhaps because they have to deal with people who don’t know how to use a dump, the generator hours are shorter, and it costs more than Sunset. But we had a two night reservation booked and were good to go for whatever we decided to explore in the park.

With time and sunlight left on the day, we thought about maybe getting in a ride around Artist’s Palette, but quickly realized that was too big a ride. Instead, we did some scouting for a plan to do that ride the next day, plus a hike up through nearby Desolation Canyon.

We began the next day by being the super smart party and driving the car to the foot of the exit point for the drive. From there, we got out our bikes and rode 3 1/2 miles to get to the start of the one way loop. This is a major climbing ride, starting from below sea level, and leaping right into a sustained uphill grade for the first couple of miles. The whole ride gains 1,900 feet in elevation and there are many many ups and downs along the way. I cannot imagine how much complaining I would have been doing if I were on a regular bike. I also don’t know if I could have done it. In the middle of the ride, you come to Artist’s Palette, a rocky jumble of contrasting colors, impossibly coexisting, like dollops of differently flavored icing on some crazy giant birthday cake. Once you hit the final stretch, you coast and roll through the natural twists and turns in the eroded valleys. Finally, you see a long, straight descent to the main road. If you are smart like we are, you see your car waiting for you down at the bottom.

We high fived at the end of the Artist’s Palette drive, and drove about a mile back up the road to the unpaved trailhead access road for Desolation Canyon. There is a half mile of hard packed dirt to get to the parking area. We were able to ride that with our bikes the previous day, but didn’t need to this time, because we had the car. This trail is really stunning, with only one significant challenge for me. All told, it is 3.74 miles out and back, with 822 feet of climbing, and a stunningly sweeping view from the top. The initial uphill march up the wash was not too bad, and you quickly enter a pretty canyon which you follow the whole way up. I had read trail descriptions and knew there would be two decent sized scrambles. Following the experience in Owl Canyon, I was wary of vertical barriers that could stop me going forward.

I spied the one that gave me trouble and didn’t immediately think it would be too bad. It has well worn foot holds in multiple spots to help you ascend. Once I was on it though, it wasn’t that easy to figure out where to put hands and feet as you got near the top. As I was working through how to do it, another couple appeared at the top and offered their hands to help me get up. I made a couple unsuccessful attempts, and then decided as a last resort to ditch my backpack and hiking sticks at the bottom to see if I could get up unhindered. With some butt assists from Richard, who was standing at the bottom, I did it! Richard quickly climbed back up, and then it was our turn to try to help the other couple down. The woman was clearly not liking scrambling any more than I did, but her husband stood at the bottom, guiding her feet into secure footholds and coaching her on where to put her hands. This was really helpful to watch. I clapped super hard for her when she made it down, and she looked grateful and a little teary. I wish I could say I felt elated and confident going up the rest of the trail, but instead, my mind grew preoccupied with how I was going to be able to get down.

There was one other scramble that was tricky, but didn’t pose nearly as much of a challenge. By the time we got all the way to the upper viewpoint, I wasn’t really present. My head was on that tricky scramble down below. I will give myself credit for not working myself into a panic attack, but that took a lot of mental effort during the whole downhill return hike. I did all the things. I acknowledged the thoughts, feelings, and physical effects that were happening. I validated what I was experiencing, rather than trying to talk myself out of it. I noticed when my mind wanted to spin up the “what ifs” and just re-grounded myself in the present moment. I got to the less tricky scramble and got down it with no problem. Then we came to the big one. Richard went down first and we did exactly what that other couple had done. He masterfully guided my feet into secure holds and advised me which way to scoot next. Slowly worked my way down, until there was one jump to the bottom. I was through it! I hugged my backpack (which I was happy to see was still there) and sat down to release all of the emotion.

We learned some important lessons on this trail. First, when I encounter a tricky scramble, I think it’s important I not only go up it, but also back down it, before proceeding. That way, I will gain more confidence from the ascent, but also not need to worry about whether I’ll be able to descend on the return. That will make the rest of the trail much more enjoyable, if it’s an out and back. Next, we learned a new skill in having Richard at the bottom, placing my feet if he can. And last, when I am ramping up in worry, it is super important for me to validate those feelings as responding appropriately to the circumstances. Negating, distracting, or minimizing the likelihood of something bad happening, does not soothe or ease the anxiety. Instead, it makes that voice talk louder. We also talked a lot about what happens in Richard’s mind once he starts on a trail. His tendency to get locked into a goal oriented objective (the end of the green line on All Trails, some particular view point, some number of miles or feet or climbs…) can end up being at odds with my tendency to weigh safety over “just do it.” We came off this hike having collected a whole bunch of new views.

Our second full day in the park began with a move to Sunset campground before heading over to park at the Golden Canyon Trailhead. This is one of the park’s most popular areas, so there are always lots of cars there, but it was no problem to park along the side of the road. The Golden Canyon section can be done as an easy 1.6 mile out and back, or can be combined with Red Cathedral, Zabriskie Point, Badlands Loop, and Gower Gulch. Or any combination of those. We did this as a loop with Gower Gulch and added the spur to Red Cathedral. All told, we did a little over 7 miles, with around 1100 feet of climbing.

Richard played an audio tour, which pointed out that there used to be a road running through the canyon to increase access for tourists. It has long since washed away during floods, until only pieces of it remain. But it is still there in places and reminds one of the power of nature over the human impulse to control and tame.

I was super focused on looking for the exact spots where “Star Wars” was filmed and was disappointed the audio tour did not call out the locations. I don’t know how many times I have seen that movie (the first one, to be specific, which is really the only one I acknowledge as legitimate), but images of R2D2 whistling down the canyon, surrounded by Jawas hiding in the shadows, are seared into my brain. I was obsessed with it when it came out. I took a bajillion pictures of the canyon and I am sure I found at least one that was a direct match. I know this because, that night we watched an unedited version of “Star Wars” and I grabbed shots with my phone while that section was playing so I could compare. I am a dork.

We had a great time on this trail, with no particular challenges until we got to the Red Cathedral Trail spur trail. There are couple of small scrambles, and places where you have to duck through some low openings, but there is an optional climb you can do to a viewpoint at the very end. The trail is steep and slippery with all the fine sand, and it gets very narrow and edgy right at the top. I went up it ok and enjoyed the sweeping views of all of the badlands, but rather quickly decided I’d be happier eating lunch at the bottom. The main trail would be easy for anyone to do.

This trail was accessed by continuing past the Golden Canyon and onto the Badlands Loop trail. You climb and climb and climb across big golden hardened sandstone dunes, until you come to an intersection with the access trail to Zabriskie Point. We opted out of climbing up to the crowded viewing area and turned to walk down the Gower Gulch wash. There are no trail signs at this intersection, so we relied on visual clues, plus All Trails GPS technology to reassure us we were doing the right thing. This trail is far less popular, which means the walking surface is rocky, with no well worn tracks to follow. We puzzled the entire hike over why this was the case. Later, navigating the final exit through the tight canyon walls, we understood why.

On our way, we delighted in the green sections, whose true color I just cannot capture in photos, try though I did. We also spied an abandoned Borax mine, which has been sturdily gated off. Just past that, the trail descends rapidly as the canyon walls narrow. This generally means things get technical. You can imagine flood waters washing over the wide troughs, getting rougher as the canyon walls close in. Finally, you come to tumbling cascades of huge boulder falls where the only way past is over or through. Richard did an awesome job checking in with me, but none of this trail proved to be anxiety provoking at all. I would say it was the perfect level of challenging; just enough to be exhilarating and make me feel just a little bit badass. The last bit takes you on a half mile return, along the base of the mountains, toward the parking area, which is clearly visible once you exit the canyon. Do be careful at the very end of the canyon though. I thought the trail went straight, and was about to investigate what looked like a big descent. That, in fact, is at least a twenty foot plunge down to the valley floor. The actual trail takes a sharp right, which is hard to see. I thought this was a five star day. And there was celebratory ice cream to be had at The Ranch Ice Cream Parlor, just across from the campground.

At last we come to our final day. We decided to face our challenges head on and get a peek at Sidewinder Canyon. This had the potential to trigger all the super tricky trouble traps, but we figured, why not just do it? I was strategic in suggesting we take on an achievable goal before hand, so that we could dip our toes in Sidewinder and maybe not have to do the whole damn thing.

The low hanging fruit in question was the Willow Canyon Trail. To get here, you have to drive 30 miles down Badwater road before you get to the trailhead. It is located in the same parking area as Sidewinder, but is completely unmarked. To find the trail, you leave the parking area and head north, hugging the low lying hills, until you come to an opening into a large wash. You basically follow the grey gravelly rubble all the way up until you finally find the opening of the canyon. The walls of the mountains start to close in and you get to a narrow passage that goes all the way up to a two tiered waterfall at the end.

I did not believe there would actually be water flowing, but lo and behold, there it was! Before coming to the end, you cross over a couple of little waterfalls and crystal clear small pools. There are some scrambles, but again, nothing that triggered me. There were plenty of places where I handed Richard my hiking sticks because I needed my hands to climb, but that was it. The reward of sitting, all by ourselves, at the foot of a legitimate waterfall, in the middle of Death Valley, was one of the highlights of the trip.

Another aspect that was fascinating about this trail is that you can make out evidence of how the outflow of the dry river bed has changed over time. Maps show river beds going one way, but you can see how floods and erosion has actually changed the course of the wash. It’s pretty cool and I highly recommend it. But I wouldn’t count on maps alone. I’d use something like All Trails or Guru Maps to stay on course. It was about 5 miles out and back, with 855 feet elevation gain.

After returning from the first trail, we started across the parking lot to start up the Sidewinder trail. The whole point of this trail is to explore the multiple slot canyon spurs along the way. It is a sloggy uphill trudge of about a mile before you get to the first official slot canyon. Oof. It is really hard to go uphill in deep loose gravel.

There was some discrepancy on exactly which slot canyons are part of the official three, vs which are “bonus.” We thought we were doing Slot #1, but I think in fact, we did a “bonus canyon” instead. Anyway, it looked super cool and was marked by a clearly human built arrow on the ground, so we went all the way up it. This one is very rocky, but in every place you have to get over boulders, there are plenty of hand holds or walls you can push against to lift yourself up or down. I felt it was technical, and I needed to use my hands and feet, carefully placed, to get past some 6-8 foot climbs, but I never felt overly exposed or in danger of falling.

We knew we wouldn’t have time to do all the slots, so we prioritized and slogged up the loose wash to get to #3. Now there were markers in front of the entrances, and All Trails aligned with where we thought we were. We bypassed markers for #1 and #2. Slot canyon #3 had a lot of narrow twisting passages, some low doorways, and a couple of very tight squeezes down low. Richard went through a very small hole, which he didn’t need to do because there was another way through to the right. It was fun just to find your way through the obstacles. There was a pretty nice tall scramble for me to practice on, and Richard snapped a triumphant picture of me, which will remind me in times when I feel defeated, to go slow and tiny, foothold by foothold. There it is again: just keep swimming.

We called it a day and started down the wash and back to the car. We certainly did not want to be scrambling, or picking our way through rocky terrain back to the car, after dark. Even with headlamps, no thank you. It was a super great day. With both trails, we hiked almost 9 miles and climbed almost 2000 feet. Health says I got 26,902 steps and burned 1,393 calories. Not too shabby.

As we wrap up this stay, there are a few things I want us to remember for next time. It is a really good call to stock up on groceries before entering this park. From the south, the last chance to do so is really in Pahrump. The “stores” down in the valley are little more than touristy gift stores. The one at The Ranch had some extremely expensive food items, but selection is very limited. The “store” in Stovepipe Wells has even less and is more like a minimally supplied gas station store. Do not count on food supplying in the desert. They also only carry regular gas at Stovepipe Wells, so if you have a car that needs premium (like we did eight years ago), you will be out of luck. The driving from Pahrump is a million times easier than from the west, through Panamint Springs, so I would maybe say that would be my preferred way in or out of Death Valley. Plus, if you go through Pahrump, there’s a Pinkbox Donuts.

The other lesson was that, of all three campgrounds in the Furnace Creek area, the Sunset “parking lot” turned out to be my favorite. I got somewhat better occasional cell service there than from the Furnace Creek campground. And you don’t feel self conscious at all running generators. Nor are there camp hosts telling you not to put your wheels, or even stabilizers anywhere on the dirt. Why? It makes no sense. When he was insisting we move, even though we were leaving the next morning, he said if others saw us parked in the dirt “it would lead to mayhem.” You get none of that at Sunset. And lastly, there is just no good cell service down there. There was wifi for me at The Ranch, but not for Richard’s Verizon phone. The only consistently reliable wifi was from behind the Visitor Center. Small groups of people would gather there at night, with their phones aglow on their faces, in search of little bits of service. So just know that when you go, in case there are any important connectivity things you need to do. I know it seems like first world problems to be frustrated about the lack of internet in Death Valley, but when you know ahead of time, it helps.

In addition, we are also learning that it takes a long time to recharge my bike batteries. We have wanted to run the generator anyway, just because solar does not work very well in low winter sun. It seems to take up to three hours before the bike battery fully charges, and that’s a long time to run a generator. We need to remember this and maybe be strategic about when we book sites with electric hookups to coincide with big bike rides. The Aventon charger also seems to be tripping the generator right when the battery reaches a full charge. Like it suddenly draws a lot more right at the end of the charging cycle. Richard is going to do some research on Aventon e-bike charging to see if there are any better ways to manage this.

As we head into the new year, I take lessons with me that I learned from Death Valley. The first is to always look for waterfalls in the desert. Of any place on earth, Death Valley seems the least likely to contain waterfalls. If you can be surprised here, you could be surprised anywhere. It may be that this year will bear down on us like the sun in 132 degree heat. It may seem like hope and joy and optimism are all dried up. Still, look for those waterfalls. They may be hidden and hard to find, but they are out there. The other lesson is to find ways to be brave, in teeny tiny ways. Brave doesn’t mean not being afraid to try that one next step, and sometimes it might mean going back down and rethinking before trying again. Sometimes there aren’t many footholds in life, but almost always, there are others there who will help you up. Those are my deep thoughts for this year. Be well, friends.

Post script – OMG Richard found the world’s most amazing resource. For next time: https://www.panamintcity.com/exclusives/starwars.html

Total miles from Red Rock Canyon: 116.0, 19.9 mpg, 3 hours 55 min. Site 60 in Furnace Creek, F5 in Sunset parking lot campground. Barely any cell service, despite phones showing 3-4 bars of LTE or 3g. At Sunset, ATT came in from time to time, especially at night or in the morning. Wifi hotspot for ATT at The Ranch, and really fast NPS Visitor Center wifi behind the visitor center. Dump at Furnace Creek was left in a disgusting state, and it’s a curby dump, so zero stars on that experience. Sunset dump was good and used by campers who seemed to know how to use a dump. Overall, ended up with strong preference for Sunset.

We bid adieu to Lake Mead, but Richard got in one last hurrah ride along the bike trail on our way out. We set a pin at the Las Vegas Bay picnic area and the plan was for me to blog while he rode. Because it was a short shot from Boulder Beach to Red Rock Canyon, we didn’t want to arrive too early. The plan worked well, with the exception that cell service wasn’t awesome at the picnic area. It was better just a little bit higher at an overlook, so we moved the meet up spot. That has nice views of the west side of the lake and we could see the Las Vegas Bay Campground down below. That would be another option to try in the future.

There were a couple of unknowns as we headed over to Red Rock. The purpose of this stay was to have a Do Over from out last try. When we came before, we got hit by a giant storm system. It was really pretty intense, and the lead up to the storm ruined Richard’s attempt to ride the Red Rock Canyon Scenic Drive because he was getting blown over by wind. Because of the brain’s negativity bias, Richard was pretty sure it would be crazy windy there again and he wanted to make sure he got in some kind of a ride. There was also the fact that the campground website said check in was not until 3, and sometimes it’s fine to get there early, while other times, it’s not. One last factor was that you need to make online reservations for a timed entry on the scenic drive and we had a hard time finding out whether that applied to bicycles as well as cars. 

For all of those reasons, we were taking our time getting to the campground. This worked very well in my favor because Richard had researched a viral TikTok doughnut shop, as well as a hip ice cream place that just so happened to be on the way. The Doughnut place is called Saint Honoré and I have never had such a fancy, and expensive, doughnut in my life. They have all kinds of unusual flavors, but the ones that are reviewed the best are the Creme Brûlée and the Boston Cream Pie. We split the former and it was really good. The sugar coating on top was so crystalized, it had to be cracked before we could cut it. The place was crowded and conspicuously chic, with gold flecks on raspberries, and unnecessarily sturdy custom boxes given with every order, even if you just got one to eat on the spot. Richard felt the doughnut part was on the dry side, but he’s a tough customer. I thought it was fabulous.

We followed that with a walk a few doors down to Sorry, Not Sorry. The vibe here is much more laid back and the ice cream is out of this world. I had Mint Chocolate Chunk and Richard had Triple Chocolate Fudge. Wow. They say the name has to do with the unapologetic number of calories contained in each scoop. This is business naming at its finest. This place is worth a side trip if you are going through Las Vegas.

We drove the short distance to the campground, getting there around 1pm. There was no one at the kiosk to check us in, let alone care if we had arrived early. It was lovely weather with no wind. And it turned out bicycles do not need a timed entry reservation. All concerns were for naught, as they often are. We got our bikes set up and rode the 2 miles from the campground to the scenic drive entry point. We had no trouble just rolling in. We showed our annual National Parks Pass, which covered the entry fee, and we pedaled past a long line of cars, some having to exit the park because they didn’t have a reservation. We felt like the smart party for sure.

The scenic drive is 13 miles total. It is one way and only open to vehicles with timed reservations, so there is very little traffic. The first five miles are all about climbing. I didn’t particularly notice, cause e-bike, but Richard got in a very good workout. We didn’t stop at the parking areas or trail heads much, because the plan was to spend the whole next day in the park.

Once you reach the parking area at “The High Point,” you are in for some coasting. The sun was starting to go down and we didn’t bring enough clothes. That was a very chilly 8 miles. You come out on the main public road two miles west of the entrance, so we had to ride it back, plus two miles back to the campground. Richard completed his Do Over ride and got to do it all again the next day.

We had ambitious plans, so we got up really early. We were dressed (with ALL the clothes), lunches packed, and riding by 8:30. Again we secretly gloated as we flew past the line of cars for free. The first part of our biathlon was complete when we got to the Sandstone Quarry parking area. Here we dismounted and changed around some clothes and shoes for a three mile hike on the Calico Tanks Trail.

This trail lets you explore the distinctive sandstone rock formation from the back side. There is a fair bit of rock scrambling, with lots of stone stairs to make most of the climbing easier. You do have to be careful because all of the rock surfaces are covered with fine sand, making it slippery. The views are other worldly and the colors of the rocks are Instagram ready the entirety of the trail. The “tanks” are bowls in the sandstone that collect water. The largest of the tanks was empty, but we saw a couple of smaller ones. It is worth it to climb to the end of the trail where you can get a view down into the valley, even as far as Las Vegas. 

The hike took us about two hours and we continued to the next leg of the biathlon. This was the Keystone Thrust Trail. To get to the trailhead, you can go up a rocky unpaved road, or park a half mile lower and walk up. It was too rough for road biking, so we locked our bikes at the lower parking lot and hoofed it. This trail was a lot less scrambly. It was uphill the first half, and then it descends into an area that has exposed red rock poking out of the surrounding limestone. They say it is geologically interesting, and though I don’t understand all the reasons why, I can still appreciate that there are a lot of different kinds of rocks in one place. Again, it was worth it to do the descents and climbs to get to the end of the trail, so that you can look back on the formation and see how it all stands out. All told, this trail was about three and a half miles out and back.

You might be wondering from the pictures, “Did Richard hike wearing his bicycle helmet?” Yes. Yes he did. And he will again, the next time we ride to a trailhead. You can argue with him about it, but he doesn’t care and won’t change his mind, even if you tell him he looks silly. He doesn’t want to leave it sitting around with the bike, and he insists it is easier to carry this way.

Finally, we were ready to commence the final leg of the day’s events. I regret none of the clothes I put on for the ride back. In addition to regular clothes, I had a fleece, down jacket, wind breaker jacket, fleece lined pants, rain pants, and a wool hat under my bike helmet. I could have put on gloves too and should have. The day’s tally was around 22 miles of biking, plus 6 miles of hiking. Around 3,200 feet were climbed, by wheel or by foot.

We arrived back at Dory by 3 pm, triumphant and tired. What do biathletes deserve? More ice cream! We put away all the biking and hiking stuff, hopped in the car, and drove to Sorry, Not Sorry. I got Bumble Berry Cheesecake with Crumbles on a waffle cone. OMG. Richard got Double Stuff Oreo Cookies and Cream, also on a waffle cone. Quick stop at a nearby Trader Joe’s, fill the car with gas, and that’s a wrap on a big, big, day.

Could not have had a better Do Over. Richard conquered that ride not once, but twice. We really loved biking to the trailheads, especially when we get to avoid entry tickets and fees. The campground is extremely convenient if you are wanting to see Red Rock Canyon. It helped to have just a little cell service too. Fun stay!

Total miles from Boulder Beach: 53.0, 14.3 mpg, 4 hours 2 min (with stops at rest area and snacks). Site 43. No hookups. Actually got pretty decent cell service for ATT. They must have put up a tower somewhere. Still not great for Verizon. No dump.

Wow! Lake Mead surprised me again. Last time we were here, I was blown away by how beautiful the geology is. This time, in addition to admiring its natural beauty, I come away impressed with the wealth of things you can do for entertainment. We stayed in Boulder Beach Campground, which is right next to, but a whole lot nicer than, a full hookup RV park. I got a site so pretty, I must have put some research into it. It was on the edge of the campground loop, with a nice view of the lake, and it was also on the end so there wasn’t anyone next to us on the door side. The sites are nicely spaced apart, with some bushes in between, which makes them more private. There’s great cell service and all the amenities in nearby Boulder City. All in all, it’s an incredible location and right on the River Mountains Loop Bike Trail.

We pulled in early, but our site was empty, so we got to set up with plenty of time on the day to go explore. The first thing we did was ride up to the Visitor Center to see what’s what. We learned all about the paved multi-use trail that takes a 36 mile wide circle from Boulder City, along Lake Mead, and then past Henderson, NV. We also learned about the rails to trails path that offers a unique way to go visit the Hoover Dam.

Right out of the Visitor Center, you pick up an old railroad route which is not paved, but is surfaced in hard packed fine gravel, making it doable for a road bicycle with thin tires. Because it follows the train line, it is nice and level, with gentle turns, and cool tunnels that go right through the mountains. You get amazing views of the lake and marina down below.

Eventually, the main trail ends, but you can continue until you get to a paved switch back ramp that will take you to the main parking garage for the dam. We should have parked our bikes at the top and walked down, but instead we rolled them down with us. Once you’re in the parking lot, you can take an elevator five levels down to the main walkway. We locked the bikes and left them at the top so we could go walk around. It was Christmas Eve and there were tons of people visiting the dam. We did a little promenade before heading back up the elevator, and then walking our bikes all the way up the switchback ramp. Good thing my e-bike has a walk assist feature. I recommend doing this trail as a way to visit the dam if you’re up for a walk or bike ride. You avoid all of the backed up car traffic and parking hassle. The only thing to not do is walk your bikes down the big ramp (like the sign at the top says: No Bicycles).

That was a super fun introduction to the area. We had originally planned to ride our bikes up to Boulder City to do a little bit of shopping, but that is one hell of a climb and we’d already gotten in a good ride, so we drove it. There are plenty of services in Boulder City, including an Albertsons for groceries, and a couple of places to get ice cream. As it was Christmas Eve, we were out of luck on the latter, but got enough sweet treats at the store to feel properly festive.

We awoke to the most gorgeous light on the lake and perfect blue Christmas skies the whole day. We did an epic ride of 36 miles and 2800 feet of climbing. From the campground, we picked up the paved trail, taking it counter clockwise. Along the lake, it rises and falls, skirting Lakeshore Road, which is the scenic drive through the national park. Once you pass Las Vegas Bay, the trail heads uphill. Before it bends to the south, it briefly joins up with the Lake Mead Parkway Trail. Then it splits and does some serious climbing over what they call the “Three Sisters.” The whole thing is well signed, with a few rest areas and bike repair stations along the way. You even get some views of Las Vegas in the distance.

Finally, the trail sweeps around toward Boulder City. The only confusing part of the whole trail was when it seemed to change from a trail to a flood control water trough. I think this is how the trail was designed, but there is now also a street level paved trail that runs parallel to the gutter trail most of the way. We took a wrong turn at one place when we were in the gutter and didn’t see the place where it climbed back up and out. It seems weird to put a multi-use trail in a flood gutter, but then, it probably doesn’t flood that much. And I guess, if things were actively flooding, you would know not to go for a trail stroll.

Once the trail starts descending from Boulder City, you are literally coasting and braking for eight miles, all the way back to the campground. The last stretch leaves the flood troughs and becomes the rails to trails route, making for a very nice steady descent. Going counter clockwise on this trail is key to ending your day smiling, staring at views of the lake, while not pedaling a single stroke. You also get to end the ride in town and could stop and grab a treat, if you so desire. My one complaint at all is that the pavement is cracked across the path at regular intervals for a lot of the ride along the lake. Some of the cracks have been filled, and some have only been half ass filled. It can make for jarring rhythmic bumps. Otherwise, five stars.

Christmas Day was a hard act to follow, but we managed to have an equally memorable Boxing Day. We did a lot of ruminating on whether or not to do a really big trail down to a hot spring and the Colorado River. The ranger at the Visitor Center recommended the Arizona Hot Springs trail, and AllTrails had lots of five star reviews. It seemed like the thing to do was take this as a loop that combined the White Rock Canyon Trail, but that would end up being close to seven miles, with over 1200 feet of climbing. There was disagreement in the various sources as to whether this was a “hard” or “moderate” trail, and there were conflicting opinions on whether it was better to do the loop clockwise or counter clockwise. I scanned reviews closely for indications of tricky rock scrambling and couldn’t find anything definitive, so we decided to go for it. Honestly, if I’d seen the NPS description, with warnings and alerts and a rating of “very strenuous,” I would probably have ruled it out. Luckily, I didn’t read that until after I’d done it. Sometimes too much information is a bad thing. I don’t disagree with any of the reviews, or warnings, but it was one of the most amazing trails I’ve done, and I’d do it again.

We decided to go the counter clockwise route, heeding the advice that slogging uphill for three miles in a deep gravel wash was not fun. I think that is probably the right call. Going down the wash into the canyon is incredible. The day started overcast, which was great for mild temperatures, but does mute the colors of the rock in pictures. As you descend, you can witness the progression of time, stamped into the different colors and textures of the canyon walls. Down at the bottom, as the trail finally opened onto the Colorado River, the sun came out and the bright oranges and rusty reds appeared in all their glory. Besides the deep gravelly surface making it tiring to traverse, I would say this part was an easy hike. There were very few places where you had to scramble up or down rocks, and those were easily done.

The connector trail from the bottom of White Rock Canyon, over to the Arizona Hot Springs proved to be the hardest part. The trail goes up and down over the rocky banks of the river, sometimes becoming a vertical climb or descent on dodgy terrain. And although they have spray painted arrows in some places to keep people on the right track, it is not easy to find the trail in several crucial spots. I made one small wrong turn, which was easily corrected, but you are going up and over rocky passes. A wrong turn could be a problem. Now that I’ve done it, I think I could find my way better. There was one ascent that required Richard to give me a “butt assist,” but I was able to do the rest on my own.

Finally, the connector trail ended at a stream, which is where it joins the hot springs trail. We read reviews from many people asserting the importance of bringing water shoes, and I complied. I also agree, whole heartedly. The hot springs trail passes along, and through, and into lots of water. Like, if you take the loop counter clockwise, you will have no option but to walk through the streams, climb up four or five waterfalls, and wade through the waist high hot water pools. There is also a twenty foot metal ladder. Oddly, none of this scared me. And it was so different from any hike I’d ever done that I found it all pretty cool.

When you do this hike, you will see signs all over the place, from the kiosk, to spray painted notices on the rock walls, that there will be nudity in and near the springs. By the time we got to the pools and saw that they were really actual pools, we seriously did not care about disrobing. Someone has created these thermal hot tubs by laying sand bag walls about waist high to make three separate soaking zones. I’m thinking dimensions were roughly ten by ten feet, snuggled in between the canyon walls. Each pool gets hotter as you go uphill, closer to the thermal source. The last one was like, really hot, and only two people were in it. The lower pools each had five or six naked soaking people in them. Some had bathing suits. No one cared. Richard went Full Monty to cross through the pools. I mostly stripped, except I had completely run out of room in my backpack to cram anything more into it. It ended up being logistically easier to wear a shirt than to carry it. I hadn’t considered the fact that, without pants, I had no pockets. So the iPhone and keys had to get squished into whatever room I could find high up in the backpack, which got soaked at the bottom. Shoes were carried. Bottom of shirt got wet.

Once you are through the pools and up the waterfalls, you can re-robe. You can see where the spring comes up through the rocks and through little natural fissures in the vertical walls. If you touch the water at these sources, it is almost scalding. Many people come down the springs trail just to spend time soaking. That wasn’t our goal, but it was pretty cool to experience a real natural hot spring. You could totally bring a bathing suit, but everyone was cool with “be cooler, be nooder #SPF 50.”

The last leg of the loop was to climb out of the canyon. It is definitely a steep ascent to get back to Go. The first third is a gentle incline, but it’s up a wash, so kind of sloggy. Then you get to the exposed rock bit and that raises the cardio for sure. There were a few scrambly places to get up a few feet from one level to the next, but nothing that felt unsafe. It was more like, “Hmm, where do I put my feet here?” I don’t think I would have liked going down that. Again, I am reconfirming that I would prefer doing the whole thing counter clockwise, even though it means you have to do the connector trail, go up the ladder, go through all the pools and waterfalls, and climb out on a few really steep grades. This is a major trail. It is awesome and totally worth it, if you can do it. I figure I represent a good gauge of “if she can do it…” in the same way I look at children on trails: “if that kid can do it…” But yeah, I’d say “strenuous” is fair. As a reward, we went back to town and got a tasty soft serve from Chilly Jilly’s. We also walked around the historic downtown area to stop at Grandma’s Daisy’s Old Time Confectionary. Last stop, a grocery top up to get us through the rest of the trip.

So we leave the Lake Mead area, once again thinking how cool it is. It is a perfect winter destination. It would be brutal in the summer and make all of the outdoor activities downright dangerous. It is vast and we have only scratched the surface. It is an area I would definitely recommend, and I really liked this campground as a home base.

Total miles from Hole in the Wall: 133.1, 18.8 mpg, 3 hours 13 min. Site 87 fabulous views with no one next to us on my window side. No hookups. Excellent cell service for both. There is free wifi, but it’s not very good, so we stuck with the cell service. Good dump. Much nicer campground than the full hookups RV park next to it.

Every time I come back to this place, I like it more. I think at first, it kind of scared me. It is very remote and far from any services. It feels dangerous, like the desert. Perhaps with familiarity, I have come to better appreciate the peace and sense of awe that comes with the vastness of the open land. I no longer feel those background nerves and can release my mind to the grand desert beauty.

The human brain has a strong, hard wired negativity bias, and part of my psyche still recalls the first visit, and the first time I did the Rings Loop Trail. This is a narrow passage in a wall of rock at the base of Banshee Canyon, only ascendable due to a series of strategically placed hand and footholds in the shape of metal rings. I struggled the first time I tried it, but have since conquered them, more than once. After we got in and set up, I wanted to go find the rings and tackle them, first thing. The Barber Peak Loop Trail ends at the rings, after a 5.6 mile loop. From the campground though, you can get to the bottom of the canyon by walking just a mile going the other direction. As a quick hike, I brought nothing with me but my determination. And lo and behold, I made it up both sets of rings with zero trouble. It took me aback how easy it was, and I wondered whether they had added more rings since the last time. I went back to the blog to compare photos, only to find that I had written last time about the climb being no problem. Funny how I’d forgotten that.

If you are a TikTok person, or if you’ve read the stories going around, you may know there have been lots of drone sightings in various places across the country. I was secretly looking forward to scanning the nighttime skies in the relative vicinity of Edwards Air Force Base, and to my delight, a group of rangers set up a major astronomy station a few sites over from us. We went over and asked about what they were doing, and they explained that they were on a training outing to learn about astronomy. They even had a real for real NASA scientist with them to show them how to use all of the big expensive telescope equipment. It secretly delighted me that the NASA scientist had a thick Russian accent. I asked them if they were perchance going to launch any drones. The NASA astronomer got my reference immediately and laughed, saying with a wink, “You know, we don’t “officially” know anything about those.” And if that’s not an admission, I don’t know what is. It was too cloudy that night to see anything, but I did spend more time than I’m willing to admit taking video evidence of what turned out to be Sirius. Ok, two things I learned: 1) Sirius does in fact twinkle red and green (very much like a drone), and 2) because of something called the autokinetic effect, stars can look like they are moving. So there.

We did do the Barber Peak Loop Trail again, complete with another successful rings ascent at the end. The sky was a brilliant blue and the weather was perfect. There is one particular spot about mid hike, where there is a distinctive outcropping of dazzlingly white rocks all over the ground. They do not fit in with any of the surrounding geology and make a striking contrast to the rusty colors all around. It looks like someone’s million dollar marble counters exploded right there, leaving behind hundreds of bits of shining little gem stones. We ate lunch on a pile of gem stones and it was delightful.

The other surprise of the stay was the equally incongruous appearance of a troop of horses at the entrance to Banshee Canyon. We couldn’t tell at first if they were wild, but we did ask about it later and it seems they wandered over from a nearby ranch. There is not enough water in this part of the Mojave to support a wild herd. They looked pretty comfortable, so they probably roam around the area frequently.

And last, the desert sunsets never disappoint. I think we always get treated to a glorious sunset when we stay here. The light as the sun sets and rises over the desert sands is indescribably beautiful. I just love this campground. The stars at night are nuts (as are the people looking at them and thinking they are drones). Be careful to make sure you gas up at Barstow, or Ludlow, or Needles, depending where you are coming from. And I don’t think I’d come during the summer. But in the winter through spring, this campground is one of the best.

Total miles from Calico: 119.6, 16.6 mpg, 2 hours 46 min. Site 36 no hookups. Great solar. Slow, but existent cell service. Good dump with potable water. $12 per night, first come first serve.

We have now stayed in the jiving town of Barstow a combined total of twelve times. Between the KOA and Calico Ghost Town, we’ve pretty much covered the things to do and places to stay. Except for one.

We have noticed the Owl Canyon Campground on our various campground map services, but we’ve always ruled it out due to the 4+ miles of dirt road and non reservability. Every time we land in this location, it is because we have spent around five hours in the car, and we’re trying to get somewhere else the next day of an equally long drive. So not knowing the condition of the road makes us leery about putting that as our planned destination at the end of a long day. This time around, we got an early start and would be arriving no later than 2pm in Calico. We decided to do some reconnaissance after unhitching and drove the Passport out there to scope it out.

It’s seventeen miles from Calico, so it would not be the kind of place where we’d be getting Penny’s for dinner and driving back out. And we do like Penny’s for dinner. But maybe we could do a late lunch or something. Dunno. In any case, the road itself is not bad at all, as dirt roads go. It gets washboardy in places, so Dory would be in for a deep vibrating massage. And she’d be filthy dusty. But she’d be ok. If we had a flocked Christmas tree, like we do right now, it would probably be unflocked by the time we got there. Wouldn’t want to drive it after or during a big rain, but otherwise? I think it’s a strong contestant.

The campground itself is really beautiful. There are brightly colored rocky hills all around and a couple of nice trails nearby that go into the Rainbow Basin BLM area. There is no water and no dump. The vault toilets are clean, and there is just enough cell service to feel not totally cut off. There were no other campers when we were there, but I don’t know it there are times it fills up. I would definitely stay in this campground when the weather is not too hot. It’s really pretty.

Our other goal was to do a hike up the Owl Canyon, which starts right from the campground. I could tell from the description Richard read to me that there were going to be some tricky rock scrambling parts, but also a cool cave you can walk clear through. The canyon is filled with so many different colored rocks, from pinks to purples, to bright coppery red. We easily found the cave and had come prepared with headlamps. It’s not very long, but it definitely gets fully dark for a short section. On the other side, you can only go a little ways further before you dead end into a rock wall. Then you turn around, go back through the cave, and rejoin the main trail.

Before you get to the two mile mark, you come to a big bouldery rock fall that blocks the way forward. The only way past is to do some scrambling. As soon as I saw it, I got nervous about how I was going to get up and over the boulders. There was one way that was a kind of chute situation, where if you can push yourself up a narrow vertical trough for about nine feet, you could maybe grab at the top ledge and pull yourself up. That one was not something I could physically do. The other way around requires getting over a big boulder with a two foot section where there are no hand or foot holds at all. You would really have to trust that your feet are not going to slip out from under you, because the fall would be around eight feet to the ground. That one was not something I could do mentally. I regret not taking any pictures at all of this rocky conundrum, but I understand why it slipped my mind.

I was pretty much in a state of mild panic over attempting any of the routes. I clambered right up to the point where I would have to let go and get around the edge, but I could not make myself get past that last two feet. And if I had gotten past it, I knew I would have to somehow get down it. I was out. But Richard made it past. I flat out refused to let him bail because I know he is goal oriented and he would have had FOMO if he didn’t go another mile to the end point of the trail. He reluctantly agreed to let me wait for him and he went on.

While he was gone, I tried again a couple of times to see if I could find any safe way across and ended up with a hard nope. I contented myself by looking around at all the beautiful rocks. Richard came back before long and reported that there was another, less difficult, rock fall just past this one. The rest of the trail was fine though, and he was kind enough to let me know it wasn’t so spectacular that I needed to feel I had missed out. It’s really just more of the same rocky canyon and not worth risking a serious injury. As it was, I sustained minimal damage. I scratched my glasses and my Apple watch, banged my knee, bruised my ego, and depleted my confidence.

This brought up lots of questions in my mind about whether there would be any way to make situations like this easier for me to get past. There are three other trails I can think of where the fear of slipping has stopped me from proceeding, at least temporarily. We both, unbeknownst to each other, spent a good part of the rest of the night Googling things to try to answer that question. Funnily, we both ended up going down similar rabbit holes involving rock climbing gear or indoor bouldering training. We don’t understand any of the climbing lingo, but we now know about harnesses we could put on Richard, so he could essentially winch my ass up. Also, when you Google things like “how to help your partner get over rocks…” you find yourself getting advice on codependence and substance abuse.

Thing is, I really don’t want to become a rock climber, so the idea of investing in gear is not motivating. I could use some new shoes, and maybe if we just had a short length of rope Richard could hold so I had something for my hands to grip, that could do it. I really don’t know, but in the meantime, I started to kind of worry about the next destination, which would include the “Rings Trail,” one of the three that has proved challenging for me in the past.

But back in Barstow, all is well, and what to get at Penny’s for dinner was all I needed think about. Big fluffy pancakes, cinnamon dusted french toast, egg and sausage on the side. Always perfection. Thanks again Barstow, for being a dependable stopover on the way elsewhere. Now we have another option for the future!

Total miles from Harris Ranch: 239.5, 17.1 mpg, 4 hours 59 min. Site O48 full hookups. Good cell for both. Good dump in site. Reserving a full hookup site in person cost $55. Reserving the same site online costs $65. As long as we’re not trying to reserve around New Year’s, I think it’s safe to just show up.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Winter break has begun! Once again, we head south and toward the deserts, and again, we have chosen to break up the long travel days with our customary stops. Harris Ranch was more pungent this time than last, but not enough to cause eye watering or loss of appetite. We see signs posted now announcing a future RV park. I must admit, staying for free in the parking lot is a big part of the draw for this place. It also has fun Christmassy decor, excellent BBQ, and amusing shopping, but we’re both wondering if we we would feel like paying a bunch of money for that. But at least for this year, we got to squat for free, less the expense of tri tip, chipotle chicken, and fixins.

Not much else to report quite yet. We both noted how much better it is to get out of our driveway with the extra long ramps. It eliminates the problems associated with caravan movers not fully engaging because we can just use the winch to get her almost all the way into the street. At that point, even if the rotors are not fully in place, they can maneuver Dory over to the car to hitch up. Way, way better.

We want to remember next year, assuming we are both still working the same jobs, that Richard should just take the Friday before winter break off. There is a lot to do the day of departure and it made it rather busy to get it all done after he got home. But we were rolling down the road by 2pm, which gave plenty of time to get to Harris Ranch by dinner. I5 is not a stressful drive through the central valley, so the first day of the trip went well. Lafayette shows a lot of rain the next week or so, and we are sailing toward sunny skies and 60-70 degree weather.

Hurrah!

Total miles from home: 168.0, 18.7 mpg, 3 hours 50 min. Excellent cell. No hookups or anything. Lots of gas stations and a bazillion Tesla charging stations.

Ah, to be living back in February. I didn’t know how good I had it back then. That was back before budget tightening and impending catastrophic societal failure. That was when I made this reservation, and paid for half of it. This campground is technically a KOA, but it is unlike any KOA you have ever stayed in, especially if you spring for the most expensive site, and pay an additional fee to hold it. It is about the cost of staying one night in a very fancy hotel, and about four times the cost of a normal weekend reservation. I defiantly refused to cancel the reservation, partly because I figured it might be the last time we do this kind of splurge, but also because paying the remaining balance would only feel like twice the cost of a normal reservation. So it was a weekend of pretending we were living back in February. And it was so worth it.

We hit some traffic on Friday going through San Francisco, but it was not a problem, and meant we got to watch the sunset as we made our way down the coast. We did arrive after dark though, and that led to Richard getting a very nasty bonk on his head when we were unhitching. It seems the trunk did not open all the way and he just ran smack into the corner of the door. He was bleeding and everything, but doesn’t seem to have suffered any concussion. After a nice bandaid and a mini Ben & Jerry’s from the campground store, he seemed all better. And all told, we fared better than the family that arrived just after us, who cut in line at check in, only to be told they could not stay. This campground has a very stringent policy on allowable dog breeds (which they state is due to their insurance policy). The list is there when you make the reservation, and it is included in the confirmation emails, as well as posted on the website. But I guess this guy was not paying attention and found out, arriving after dark with his giant trailer, 2 kids, and an unallowed breed of dog, that the management was not kidding and that he would not be able to stay. Ouch. But also, come on dude.

Waking up to the super premium view was lovely. But for all the money we paid for that view, we mostly spent the day away from the campground. I got texts all day long alerting me to s’mores socials, learn to paint landscapes classes, and tie dye events. But we had an ambitious ride planned that took us out to the delightful little town of Pescadero. I always make it a goal to stop at the Arcangeli Market for something delicious when we are in the area.

We aimed for a lunch stop after riding up Gazos Creek Road, and wow! That is one of the nicest rides I’ve done. Once the road splits off after the intersection with Cloverdale Road, it is so small and narrow, I would not have liked driving it in a car. It follows the creek, passing through redwood forests, until it finally dead ends at Gazos Mountain Camp. We did that as an out and back, which Richard had never seen because it has always been closed before. There are still sections that seem only barely traversable, but no problem on a bike. Plus, there is zero car traffic, so it feels like you’re riding a paved bike trail. It is gorgeous, with the creek babbling beside you all the way, but definitely chilly in the morning.

We then took Cloverdale through the rolling hillsides, past the entrance to Butano State Park. You can see evidence of the big fire that wiped out Big Basin Redwoods, but you can also see new undergrowth making a comeback. Neither Butano, nor Big Basin have rebuilt their campgrounds yet, but you can go on the trails and use the Day Use facilities at Butano. We continued on to our lunch destination and arrived in Pescadero a little after eleven. Perfect time for a hot turkey, bacon, chipotle mayo sandwich, followed by a slice of blueberry pie. I also picked up two limes, so that I could make my own margarita when the bar cart rolled by later that night. Super smart, fiscally responsible planning, right?

From Pescadero, we continued on Stage Road, passing by the San Gregorio General Store. This place is always hopping with bikies, motorcyclists, and day trippers, looking for a funky quintessentially California coast experience. It is a beautifully maintained historic building, with a full bar, sundry snacks and pastries, and a wide variety of gifts, trinkets, books, and all manner of fancy scented soaps, creams, and candles. Bikies are asked to remove their cleated shoes before entering, which I could understand, given the beautiful restored wood floors.

From there, we mostly rode highway 1 back toward the campground, taking a small inland detour up and over Bean Hollow Road. We also stopped to pee at the Pigeon Point Lighthouse. It seems there is a major renovation underway and all of the buildings were closed. But the restroom was open, so that was good. The whole loop was forty two miles and I made it (barely!) on one battery. I took the other one, for peace of mind, but I think around forty, with about three thousand miles of climbing, is the limit for one charge.

After nappy time, I was very much looking forward to my fiscally responsible margarita to enjoy with the sunset. I filled my glass with ice, squeezed my acquired limes, pulled out the bottle I use to store tequila, and became completely crestfallen to see that it was empty. That’s what happens when you don’t camp every single weekend. Critical resupplying steps like this get missed. Richard saw the look on my face and immediately went into emergency problem solving mode. He was ready to drive 22 miles to Santa Cruz if needed, not that I would have let him. He dashed over to the little store, despite me telling him they didn’t carry any hard liquor (I had noticed). I was honestly pondering what it might taste like to pour chardonnay into a glass of cold lime juice, when Richard returned triumphant! The person in the store told him he could purchase tequila shots from the Bar Cart, and he came back beaming, carrying a plastic cup of the most expensive tequila shots you can possibly imagine. So much for fiscal responsibility. It was worth it.

We enjoyed our premium view of the sunset while sitting in premium poly Adirondack chairs. After dinner, we walked around and found a fire going in an outdoor communal sitting area, next to the nicest campground bathrooms anywhere. We grabbed a couple of complimentary logs, and sat in front of the hearth for a while. And the best part was that once we’d had enough fire, we could just walk away and not have it be our responsibility to wait out every last ember.

This is a really incredible place, but oh so pricey. I’m not sure if it’s off our list, or simply relegated to special splurge occasions. I will certainly pack my own damn tequila next time, but it’s too much fun to get little ice creams from the store to pass that up, even if they are marked up. It sure was fun to live life like it’s February of 2024!

Total miles: 75.4, 16.5 mpg, 2 hours 39 min. Site S13. Super Deluxe Premium, charge us all the money, site. Full hookups. Fully furnished. “Free” wifi. Bar cart that comes around like an ice cream truck for grown ups. Upscale store fifty feet away. Views of ocean.

We have much to be grateful for, and in particular, we are thankful to have gotten out for a trip this week. Our original plan was to go visit our camping BFF, Linda, who now lives near Carson City, Nevada. We had reservations lined up that were made many months ago, back when the weather was hot and we were thinking, “How cold could it get in Nevada in November?” Well, it turns out it can get quite cold actually. A big storm rolled through over the weekend we were supposed to be heading over the Sierras, and there was no way I was going to try towing through the snowy pass. So we regretfully bailed on that and set our sites on a familiar destination, farther to the south. I made, and cancelled, a couple of different reservations, adjusting to weather forecasts. But then, Richard got sick, and I got sick, and our kitty got sick, and we were both adjusting to the idea of a Thanksgiving at home.

It was a pretty last minute call to go out and head down Wednesday. But, by that time clouds were clearing, fevers were breaking, and kitty (with the help of $1600 worth of vet visits) was eating again. Our daughter stepped up to be the kitty caretaker, and we got to enjoy a favorite place for four beautiful nights. We’ve done Thanksgiving week here before, and I could easily see this becoming a regular tradition.

It’s a little less than a two mile walk from the state park campground to downtown, so after a long drive, that was a perfect way to stretch our legs. We treated ourselves to ice cream at Sun & Buns Bakery, picked up a cup of raw (but safe to eat) cookie dough at The Dough Connection, and got a quick dinner of chili, clam chowder, and Juju’s roasted potatoes and House of Juju. Their potatoes are a favorite, and come with a selection of incredible dipping sauces. The chipotle sauce is worth a five hour drive all by itself. We basked in a beautiful sunset over the bay as we made our way back to Dory, feeling so thankful we had made the trip happen.

The next day was overcast and windy, but not rainy, so we got on our bikes and rode over to the little town of Cayucos, which is about eleven miles from the campground. As expected, pretty much everything was closed on Thanksgiving, but we made a plan to end up at the Brown Butter Cookie Company the next day after a big ride. We had a relaxing Thanksgiving dinner, with cornbread muffins baked in the Omnia stovetop oven, and Turkey Chili topped with cilantro and shredded cheese. We had brought Trader Joe’s Apple Blossoms to heat up in the Omnia for dessert, but we were both stuffed.

The next day we headed out on our bikes early to do an ambitious ride up Old Creek Road to the top of Green Valley Road. This is one of Richard’s more challenging rides. I have an e-bike with a backup battery, so … you know… no worries. He got in a serious workout. I moved my legs around all day and Strava thinks I got in a big workout too. I’ll happily take the calorie bonus, cause there was ice cream later. The ride up Old Creek is pretty and goes past a reservoir. It is a climb of around 2500 feet over around 16 miles. Once you are at the top, you get to careen down Highway 46, also known as Green Valley Road. Whether you are on a bike or in a car, it’s a thrilling ride where you’d better trust your brakes. The clouds somewhat obscured the spectacular coastal views on the way down, but not so much that I didn’t marvel. Once you reach the bottom and intersect with Highway 1, it’s kind of a slog to go the ten miles back to Cayucos. But there are cookies waiting for you, to keep you pedaling. All told, the ride was 47 miles, with 3,209 feet total elevation gain. It took us 4 hours and 9 minutes of riding time to do the whole loop. I used both my batteries and was glad to have the backup.

The one thing that was unpleasant about the ride was the wind. We had headwinds seemingly the whole time, regardless of what direction we were going. That also made the descent down Green Valley scary in places, where you feel you might get blown over. I will say, the thicker wheels and heavier frame of an e-bike make me feel more confident in windy conditions. It didn’t let up until we got all the way back to Morro Bay. To celebrate, we went to Kelli’s Candies. Their mint chip is really excellent and is locally made in San Luis Obispo by Cowboy Cookie and Ice Cream Company. Richard got “Motor Oil,” which is a rich chocolate ice cream swirled with a rich fudge sauce.

On our last day, we hiked from the campground up to the top of Black Hill. From there, you get views of huge Morro Rock and the soon to be demolished smoke stacks. If you turn around, you can see the vast and winding waterways that make their way through the marsh lands and out to the bay. And behind you, you will spy a number of other morros, or volcanic plugs, lining up and forming “The Nine Sisters.”

We set out intending to do a big hiking loop around the hill, but after going to the top and looking down at the waterfront, we remembered how good the ice cream was. So we decided instead to just walk directly to the downtown area and go to Kellie’s.

We got in one last promenade up and down the boardwalks. There were sea lions barking away from a barge out in the bay, and a mama sea otter showing off her fuzzy baby in an area they call the “sea otter nursery zone.” The baby was indescribably fuzzy, and mama was just holding its little head above the water as she rolled around and around. She drew a crowd, but everyone was being quiet and respectful of her space. Lastly, we walked over to the big stacks to see if there was some kind of exhibit or information about the removal project. There wasn’t, but we understand they plan to take them down this spring, as they have not been used as part of the power plant since 2014.

We returned to Dory and got ready to dump her holding tanks. We could have made it another night, but we wanted to get a really early start heading home the next day and didn’t want to be towing with full waste tanks. This way, we could live it up with showers on our last night and wait to clean out the rest at home. The downside of doing this is that you have to pack up to tow over to the dump station. It doesn’t really take that long to do, and since we were coming right back, we left our step, chocks, and jockey wheels on the picnic table, rather than put it all back in the car. Dumping was uneventful, but when we came back, all our stuff was gone! I might have been worried it had been stolen, except I got a call from the park ranger before I could even wonder who on earth would have wanted our stuff. Apparently, the people in the site next to us saw us leave, saw our stuff, and assumed we’d forgotten it. They called the rangers. The maintenance people wasted no time collecting it, bringing it all to the entry kiosk, and calling to let me know I’d left it. We had to walk back and explain so we could get our stuff back. We were only gone for about twenty minutes, so they are very efficient there!

We had a lovely four days, deeply grateful for the sunsets, views, sweet treats, and coastal charm. This is a special place that reminds one of all the good things in life. Gratitude is easy to find in Morro Bay.

Total miles: 231.9, 4 hours 51 min, 17.7 mpg. Site 59 no hookups. Excellent cell for both. Good solar. Nice site, except everyone walks through it because it’s at the end of the loop and there is no other walkway. Good dump for $10.

Well, f*ck. If you know me or follow me at all, you understand that the past two weeks have really sucked. Like many, many others, I have been steeping in a hearty stew of rage, grief, fear, despair, and profound disappointment in people. While I was in a very dark place, I had to go back through photos from after 2016 to find evidence of joy, because it is hard right now to believe joy can exist again. Of course, I found it. One of the places showcasing a particularly defiant moment of joy happened at Wrights Beach. There is a very inspirational guy named Brad Newsham, who used to organize mass protest events where people stand together to form human banners in the shape of enormous words, like “RESIST!” He takes drone pictures of the event, which requires a super human level of organization, dedication, and largely his own time and money. While he was holding one of those on a beach in San Francisco in February of 2017, I gathered a few like minded souls to stage a scaled down, and much more humble, sister protest. There weren’t enough of us to make a human banner, so instead we gathered pieces of driftwood and laid them out to spell “RESIST!” in the sand. I took pictures from atop Duncan’s Landing. It was a small act of solidarity, without much point beyond sharing in a communal sentiment, and exercising our right to dissent from current events in a public space. That very right is one of the multitude of things now at stake in the coming days.

I feel much more tiny now, and older, and more tired, with less hope, and more disdain. Not a great time in history to be bearing witness to the unfolding of it all. As we enter this horrible Find Out era of FAFO, I am searching for anything to keep me afloat. In my grasping attempts to make sense of this through other people’s posts on social media, I came across the parable of the hummingbird. The story goes that there is an enormous forest fire, and all of the animals are fleeing, trying to get away from the flames engulfing their home. A bear spies a hummingbird flying toward the center of the forest, heading back in the direction of the terrible fire. The bear continues to run, and again sees the little hummingbird pass by, again flying toward the danger. The bear asks the hummingbird what on earth it is doing. Does it not know that it is going the wrong way? The little hummingbird explains that it is going to the lake to fill its beak with water, and then bringing the water to drop on the fire. The bear is aghast and stares, speechless, in wonder. The little hummingbird continues, “It is not my purpose in life to put out the fire. It is my purpose to do what I can to help in whatever way I can, for as long as I can.” It is a beautiful story for times like these.

So, here again in this lovely place, I am able to restore a sense of balance, or at least move in that direction. The relentless engine of the ocean waves reminds one of life’s Big Picture. It reminds one about being impossibly small, but in a good way. When all is ephemeral and fleeting, the magnitude of the dark side recedes just a little bit into the shadows. The dark has always been there, and will continue to be there regardless of all of the history of human activity. And also present, of course, is the light. And in its eternal intermingling, all we can do is carry our tiny bits of water, over and over, until we can’t.

We did find joy, and respite, and rejuvenation in the beauty of the California coast. We hiked eight miles on the Kortum Trail, where every step shuffled off just a little more heaviness. We celebrated Richard’s birthday with an outstanding dinner of Miso Maple Chicken Thighs, with rice, mushrooms, spinach, and tons of fresh ginger. We drove out to the little Pelican Market in Bodega Bay to pick up some delicious chocolate birthday cupcakes. At night, we watched episodes of the series, “Trying,” which is light and uplifting, and all about two small people trying, against all obstacles, to share their love and joy by building a fragile new family.

Here’s to all the hummingbirds out there. Here’s to irrational resilience and nonsensical acts of hope. I know I’m not done raging, or grieving, or feeling irrevocably confused. But I also know I’m not alone. And I will contract into my small community, adding whatever energy I can muster to help in whatever way I can. Until I can’t.

Total miles: 83.4, 2 hours 45 min, 15.9 mpg. Site 1. No hookups. Slight cell for Verizon from site. 1 bar 5g or 2 bars LTE for both on the beach.

Hallelujah!! Camping at last! I believe, besides the COVID lockdown times, this has been the longest we have gone with no camping since our maiden voyage in 2015. It has been a challenge, to be sure. If you had asked, “Are you ok?” during these past two months, there would have been times I would have truthfully answered, “No. I am not ok.” But not all the time. We’ve done our best to do fun things on the weekends, like local hiking, and having friends over, and that has kept us afloat. But I have learned beyond any doubt that camping is a very important piece of my overall mental health. Without it, I am “fine,” but not really “here.” And I am keenly aware that I don’t really have any place complaining. We are safe, and healthy, and our home is nice and in tact. No real emergencies, like I know others are dealing with. Nothing to whine about. It’s just that the joy is a lot harder to find.

I’ve done lots of thinking about this, and it all bears a striking similarity to calorie counting and losing weight. Living years of excess and overindulgence with food was a hard habit to shake. It was really hard in the beginning, and it brought up all kinds of negative emotions. On the other side of sixty pounds down, it has become a lifestyle change that is now generally pretty easy to maintain, which gives me hope. Same can be said for living beyond our means financially. Richard was making a lot of money, so we became completely unconscious of our spending habits. Everything went on the credit card, and over the past year, we were not able to pay it off each month. There was always a low level of anxiety in the background, because we knew subconsciously it wasn’t sustainable. That didn’t change the behavior though. It took the shock of Richard losing his job to jolt us out of the mindless habits and get a handle on money. We are now in our period of adjustment, and it’s bound to come with some depression.

We now have budgets and apps and spreadsheets and all that. And we’re learning what we can get away with and what we can’t. It’s tight, but livable. But man, I never really paid that much attention to how much camping reservations cost. And gas to tow. We’ve been living super fat, and the universe is telling us it’s time to go on a money diet. But we did make budget approved plans for this weekend, and the anticipation has been carrying me.

But boy, the universe did not make it easy to get out the door. We both got head colds on Thursday. Also, we’ve done such a good job not driving the Acura to save gas, that when I went to move it off the driveway, the battery was dead. And the cat wasn’t eating all his food for a couple days. We were really considering not going. But it was too late to cancel for a refund, so the new Money Me took over and pushed us out the door. (P.S. the cat is fine. We think he is just “supplementing” with murder.)

The lift in our spirits was immediate. We had the best time. We were coughing, and sneezing, and going through tons of Kleenex, and had so much fun. There is something about camping that I don’t think can be replicated by anything else. It’s partly the change in scenery. Even if you’ve been to the same place before, it’s just new stuff for your eyes to look at. It keeps your brain present and awake. There are no other thoughts bouncing around, no self talk, no doom scrolling, no worrying about politics or jobs, or anything. Just pure moment to moment awareness of what is in front of you. And, we connect in that tiny 90 square ft space. We chat and reflect and talk about silly things. We sleep better camping than anywhere else.

If we had been home, we would have rested up. Instead, we rode our bikes over to the super cute town of Livermore on Saturday. It’s about ten miles from the campground, with a big climb up and over the hills that surround Lake Del Valle. We gave ourselves a mission of getting to Uncle Yu’s Chinese restaurant. We have one in Lafayette and we know their hot and sour soup is the best thing when you’re sick. I would never think to make a trip to hang out in Livermore, but it has lots of fun restaurants and a nice downtown, with little squares with fountains and outdoor cafes. After soup, we went to a five star rated gelato place called Verace. It was excellent, but I regret not getting the Ferrero Rocher flavor. I’ll need a do over on that.

We rode back leisurely in gorgeous weather. And then we napped. I made a fun dinner on the grill of open face baguette sandwiches with steak, mushrooms, in a sweet and tangy sauce, all smothered with melted cheese. This paired with roasted carrots in a smoky spice seasoning. It was awesome.

Before turning in for the night, I had a spontaneous idea to drive to the top of the road and see if we could spot the Atlas Comet. We missed the Northern Lights last week, and we haven’t really tried to spot the comet. We’ve just been too “meh” about everything to put in the effort. But out in Dory, we’re all about the just do it. We found a whole bunch of people parked up on the side of the road at an overlook, some with camping chairs, some with telescopes, so we knew we were in the right place. The telescope people drove out from Tracy to get a good view and they knew where and when to look for it. It took a while after sunset before it was dark enough to see, but slowly, slowly the long blurry tail appeared in the sky. It was easier to see through binoculars, or from the iPhone camera than with the naked eye. But eventually, we could even make it out. Comets are super cool.

We wrapped the weekend by watching the new “Alien” movie on the projector. It’s pretty good. But also pretty tense. I had to rewatch several episodes of Ted Lasso to come down from that before I could sleep.

I have taken a lot of things for granted, camping being one of them. I have a far better appreciation now. It’s like when you are used to mindlessly eating cheesy poofs, and then you learn that you have to portion control them. So when you have a single serving bag, every cheesy poof is more delicious. Maybe I can be ok with portion controlled camping. I don’t think I need to go out every single weekend. Maybe once or twice a month is enough. And maybe if we learn to count the pennies, the way I learned to count the calories, we can earn the big trip splurges without all the background anxiety. I know it’s a process, and change is always hardest in the beginning. In any case, right now, I am ok. I’m good. It’s going to be all right.

Total miles: 42.3, 1 hour 40 min, 16.5 mpg. Site 49 no hookups. Some solar. NO cell service until you get to the top of the climb out of the park. Great dump; free. Cute and fun campground store open until 8pm.