Week's end

July 1, 2017

Turning toward Mt. Lassen, we said goodbye to Ken, our neighbor of the week, and departed the Bridgeport area with nighttime temps into the 30s, expecting more of the same ahead.  Our first two days there were very warm, which was unfortunate for our meanders through Bodie, but shortly dropped down to breezy and cool.

Coincidentally, other neighbors - from Wilcox, Arizona - were there to visit their daughter and son-in-law, who had both just been installed as new rangers and were stationed in Bodie, where they will spend the entire winter under the average of eight feet of snow.  Astoundingly, there are no frost-free months in Bodie.

In addition to going up into the surrounding mountains, we enjoyed a hike up behind the RV park.  Our late afternoon climb netted us some panoramic views plus some laughs.

Along the two-track were various archery targets that appeared to have been out there for quite some time.  By and large, they were the typical targets - deer, wolves, etc., but one in particular - a hippopotamus - was on the wrong continent, and very much the worse for wear.

There's not a whole lot to Bridgeport, to put it mildly, but it did have some historical interest, including the general store that opened in 1874 and is the oldest continuously open market in California.

Ranchers are making good use of the lush grass pastures outside of Bridgeport: there surely are thousands of cattle fattening up out there over the summer.

Moving on . . .

Our route north and west on State Highway 395 took us through some beautiful and interesting country, eventually bopping over into Nevada before skipping back into California.

After we sumitted the mountain at Devil's Pass, elevation 7,519 feet, we paralleled the West Walker River as it crashed and roiled over its bouldery bed downward 2,500 feet to Antelope Valley, where it continued far over its banks and ripped across flatter country cutting numerous side channels as it sought lower ground.

The adjoining mountain towns of Walker and Coleville caught my attention with their historic homesteads and cottonwood-tree-lined roads - extremely picturesque.  Eventually, the river emptied into Topaz Lake, a large attractive reservoir.

The names of the river and town got me to wondering if they might have been named for mountain man/pioneer Joseph Reddeford Walker, and sure enough, that is the case.  Walker brought the first gold seekers to our home region in Arizona where there is another mountain town bearing his name.  I have to wonder if Dan Conner, who wrote a book about their Arizona adventure, and the Millers were also in his scouting party through that region.

After our sojourn in Podunkville, it was a bit shocking when we drove through Gardinerville and Minden, twin valley towns that, at a casual glance, were attractive enough to warrant a later visit, combining historic interest with modern convenience.  Minden seems to be a flour milling place, at least historically.

A few miles away, where the mountain meets valley floor, was Genoa: said to be the oldest settlement in Nevada, which began as a trading post on the Emigrant Trail to California and later became a Mormon settlement for a time.  It was the first capital of Nevada Territory.

An amazing sight along the day's drive was Honey Lake that stretched on and on for miles, a fact made remarkable because it is typically a playa - a dry lake - and is now water-filled for its substantial length, yet another of many examples of how California's drought has ended in spades.

Along we went, some on the interstate to get us through Carson City (the capital of Nevada) and Reno (We don’t love those urban areas), traversing some very arid regions until we were back over the border into California and the deep coniferous forest, our next way station.