Tenaya Lake in Yosemite’s high country. Scenes such as this are warm childhood memories.
The last two days have been full – especially of riding the Beemer. In reverse order: I’m camping tonight at Porcupine Creek CG on the high road in Yosemite NP. This is one of the three most primitive campgrounds in the park. I haven’t camped here before, as I have never had need to stop in the park. But it’s still $12/night (and $6 for Old Farts like me with a Golden Age card) No piped water, no solar kiosk, no path lights, but bear lockers for food (and strict regulations to accompany them). At 8500′ it’s cold here tonight, but I have chosen to sleep under the stars in my down mummy bag. We’ll see how it goes. Yosemite has a new fire not far from here. Called the Tenaya fire, it grew today from 8 acres to 150 or 500, depending upon who told me, the fire officer or the entrance ranger. But I saw both slurry tankers and a helicopter this afternoon heading that way to fight it. It’s above the north rim of Yosemite Valley, above Upper Yosemite Falls.
My little machine at a pullout on the Tioga Road. That’s Half Dome in the distance.
I had earlier planned to camp outside the park, at spots I had known from decades past, preferably at Middle Fork (of the Tuolumne) Campground. But that campground had become a picnic ground, as had Carlon on the south fork. No camping allowed. I had stopped at Berkeley Tuolumne Camp, to walk the land two years after the Rim Fire had taken out all of the central buildings, the dining and rec halls, the stage and chair circle, the camp office – even the 3′ high dam on the river that made the swimming hole. The camp will be rebuilt – that became clear this weekend at Echo Lake. I wandered the ruins, located sacred spots from childhood, even took off all of my clothes and swam/waded in the river, sitting for awhile on Lifeguard Rock.
The swimming hole on the river. The rock is Beaverhead, and you could jump into the water from the top.
The badminton court, where I used to exercise my inner athlete. Behind the court was mature forest until the fire two years ago took it all out.
These foundations held the benches for the camp’s campfire stage.
I visited Camp around 5 pm after a day of riding. I crossed the Sierra crest twice, really on a whim, as I had first planned to circle east of US395 through the Nevada high desert. Ebbets Pass is made for motorcycles – little traffic, 1 1/2 lanes without a center stripe, and endless curves. I started the day camping in Ash Canyon above Carson City; rode south through Minden and Gardnerville, then up through Markleeville (where the rear wheel bearing had failed returning from the Oregon Country Fair), and over 8,000+ feet and then down to 1,500′ and temperatures near 100 degrees.
Next morning… slept warm, and awoke to a light dusting of fresh white ash from the nearby fire, and the sound of air tankers dropping fire-retardent slurry. I soon headed out, over Tioga Pass and back to Bishop.