This part begins with a flashback to just after our visit to Lassen, as we began heading south in earnest, on our multi-day journey back home to San Diego along the Eastern Sierra.
After leaving the park that night, we camped at the Bootleg Campground, just off US 395 near the West Walker River, north of Bridgeport. We’ve camped there before, so when I suggested staying again, Vicki was all in favor. We found our “regular” spot at the far end of the campground (conveniently near the flush toilets) and settled down for the night in the camperized Rav4. We ate a tasty dinner of macaroni and cheese mixed with a can of chili. Good stuff, although cleaning the greasy pot was less fun. By the next morning, July 4th, we already had a plan for heading south.
Naturally, we totally went off-plan almost immediately, by visiting the Travertine Hot Springs and Obsidian Dome, but after that we tried our best to be good. Until we saw the turn off to Mammoth Lakes, about fifteen minutes after leaving Obsidian Dome. Yes, our resolve lasted fifteen minutes. We decided to get lunch in town, rather than eating perfectly good food that we already had in the car.
Earlier, we passed through Bridgeport just before their Fourth of July Parade, so we should have known but didn’t realize that Mammoth Lakes would surely have an even larger parade. We drove right into a traffic nightmare. There were people everywhere, and it was impossible to cross the parade route itself, at least by car. We parked and attempted to walk to the Gojira Ramen restaurant that Vicki likes. Maybe we could dodge across between floats, or whatever they used. Well, we made it across the road, but then Vicki saw a different place. Plus, she simply wanted to watch the parade! So that’s what we did. I think every single resident of the town was either sitting alongside the road or was within the parade itself. And, yes, I admit that I, too, love a parade.
Then, and only then, did we adhere to the plan. We left Mammoth and drove a half hour or so to the south, to Tom’s Place. We drove up Rock Creek Road to the East Fork Campground and found a campsite. We’d camped here before, and liked it. At 9000 feet elevation, it was high enough to be cooler but not so high that Vicki suffered from altitude issues. Still, it was hot and shadeless at the campsite that day, so we paid for it, left a tablecloth on the table to let others know we claimed it, and drove on up the hill.
We made it to the Mosquito Flat trailhead for the Little Lakes Valley Trail. We really enjoyed being up here back in 2022 when we hiked over Mono Pass. We also knew that there might be some tasty trout in Rock Creek. Sadly, it is a very popular trailhead, especially on a holiday weekend, and we couldn’t find any parking. I came up with the silly idea to leave Vicki up here with my fishing rod, then drive back to the campground and return on my motorcycle. Wasn’t that why we brought the darned thing in the first place? Sort of?
So that’s what we did. Vicki got to chill out in the shade reading her kindle to the sound of a babbling brook, and I got to go down and get my minimoto off the carrier. As a bonus, I got to drive a motorcycle on a mountain road.
After that we hung out up at 10,000 feet and enjoyed the afternoon. I did some fly fishing with my Tenkara Rod, and Vicki got to take pictures and generally relax. Did I catch anything? No. Thus far on this trip I hadn’t caught a single fish. It was making me a bit sad, to tell the truth. Was I really that bad?
When we both got bored (and hungry) I rode back down, got the car, and picked up Vicki. I didn’t bother reloading the bike until we were both back in camp. In retrospect, it was a lot more fun to ride back down that steep road than take the little 125cc engine up the hill.
The following morning we were in absolutely no rush to get up early. It was also cold down there in the valley, so we stayed under the down quilt for quite some time. Or Vicki did. I went out to try to catch a trout for her breakfast. Rock Creek flowed slowly through the flat region near the campground. Mostly there were too many creekside willows, but there were a few spots that fellow fishermen developed over the years. Did I catch one? Of course not. But at least we got to eat breakfast next to the creek, which was nice.
We drove further south. Tonight was going to be the final night of our Road Trip. We blasted down the hill to Bishop on US 395, the Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway. Along the way was mighty Mount Tom, a thirteener that I always wanted to climb, mostly because Vicki liked it. She liked it because it had actual colors, unlike most of the drab gray granite of the Sierra. But Vicki and her lungs won’t be climbing anything that tall ever again. So we could only appreciate it from afar.
When we reached the town of Independence, we decided to pay a visit to our old favorite, Onion Valley. When we turned, we saw a couple of PCT hikers hitchhiking, so of course we gave them a ride up the big hill. We hung out up there for a short while, enjoying the memories of previous hikes we’d done together in this area. We also picked up a lone lady hiker who was already hiking down the hill because she couldn’t get a ride this early. We made her day. We dropped her off in town and she took a bus north to Bishop to resupply. This is what backpackers do for each other.
Another fifteen miles south was the town of Lone Pine, the gateway to Mount Whitney. We decided to get a spot in the Lone Pine Campground, which was part way up the hill on Whitney Portal Road. We reserved our spot and realized that it was way too hot and sunny to hang out here all day, even if Lone Pine Creek was right behind our campsite.
So we drove up the hill to Whitney Portal, which was at a high enough elevation to have cooler air, and enough trees to provide shade. We like the portal, and hung out there for the afternoon. They even had a tiny stocked fishing pond for the kids at the nearby campground. There were no kids around, so I decided to try my hand at fishing once again. This was my last chance this trip. And, finally, I actually caught a trout! It was very small, but it counted. I could stand proud with Real Fishermen now. I threw it back afterward, because it was too small to bother cooking. Sorry, Vicki!
We walked over to the waterfall on Lone Pine Creek and enjoyed the roaring sound, then headed off across the creek and found a quiet spot in the forest where we could read our books in peace. Just because we were on a road trip didn’t mean we couldn’t take time to simply enjoy doing absolutely nothing.
We couldn’t visit the portal without getting a Portal Burger at the grill. These are famous throughout the Sierra, and prized by everyone who summits Mount Whitney. Vicki chose the veggie version while I ate her french fries. Life was good again.
We went back down the hill when we thought that the shadow of Mount Whitney might be cooling the campsite. But no. Very close, but no. So we drove further down the road into the Alabama Hills, and pulled into the turnout at Nightmare Rock. It always made us laugh. We drove a bit more, and by the time we entered camp we were in the shade once again. We got the sleeping mats blown up in the car and got ready for bed.
We woke up in the morning and ate our final breakfast. We were only about five hours from San Diego, and it was Sunday morning. Zero traffic in LA was my prediction. We watched the sun rise on Mount Whitney, then packed up our stuff. There wasn’t much to do since we slept in the car. Then we headed into town, and blasted down good old 395, all the way to LA.
We stopped a couple of times on the way home to stretch our legs, but we didn’t need any gas. After this many trips to the southern Sierra, I knew that I could easily make it on one tank. And before we knew it we were home.
All in all, it had been a pretty fun trip. We saw quite a bit, but we also had some trouble with Vicki’s endurance and energy levels. If that hadn’t happened, we would probably have stayed up there for the rest of July, or until some wildfires broke out and made everything too smoky for comfort. Instead, we were home, and that wasn’t a bad thing. I was already looking forward to sleeping in my own comfy bed that night. And checking out all the photos and videos we took, of course.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
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