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Please click here for Part Five
Signs and Omens
Predawn mornings start with wiggles. With the first growing morning light, the Lady, still in a haze of sleep, wiggles and then stretches. Throw in a big yawn and morning is here. After more than four decades sharing a bunk, all this is second nature to me. She snuggled close as she awoke this morning.
“Did you ever imagine we’d end up like this?” I asked. “Most mornings waking up in our truck out in the middle of nowhere, this as our home?”
“I’m a lucky girl,” she said.
“I’m a lucky boy.”
The rain had stopped but the Inyos, to the north, were engulfed in clouds.
South, again looked better.
“It’s a sucker hole,” the Lady said when I pointed it out to her. She had our coffee mugs in her hands. “I want to go up there!” she added. Difficult terrain to not spill coffee, but we managed.
As we started up the truck to leave, south still looked better.
But with so much build this early on the Inyo Mountains, we knew today’s weather would be a mixed bag. This would be a day exploring a couple of places we’ve always just driven by. And a day of watching the clouds and sky.
The Reward Mine is a big deal with 4x4 enthusiasts, especially the southern California horde. The big-ticket item is driving deep into a mine adit. We’ve heard about it for years. Yes, we have a good 4x4 truck and we’ll drive very rough backroads all the time – if there’s a reward (no attempt at a pun here) at the end – a trailhead, campsite, history, access to high alpine lakes. Driving 4x4 roads for recreation is just plain tiresome. Maybe the difference between a tool and a toy.
Our first stop was Eclipse Canyon on the south side of the Reward Mine complex. The big-ticket item here is a steep hill climb with a very precarious turn around at the top. We could envision impromptu events, with a lot of peer pressure, here on busy weekends. It was so nice to be alone. We parked at the bottom of the climb.
The very high workings, far above with no vehicle access, looked quite interesting .
We made our way back down.
The view west over to the Sierra Nevada escarpment, with the building clouds, was spectacular.
The Reward Mine adit entrance is in the canyon to the north. With use, the road up to the top of the massive tailing pile, is eroded with large embedded boulders exposed. There is a lot of rock stacking to help get up the final section. God gave us legs. We parked and walked up.
Here is the famous Reward Mine adit.
As far as natural light allowed, was good enough for us.
The fabulous growing storm over the Sierra was of more interest.
After poking around a few more places – we were disappointed there was no marking for the historic Manzanar Station on the Carson & Colorado – we returned to Pinyon Creek to settle in to a place to overnight. We found a nice flat bench at the diversion weir that sends all the water to Los Angeles.
We took a walk upstream, keeping an eye on the massive storm approaching from the east.
That is the small town of Independence below in the Owens Valley. The storm became a dark angry beast. Our vantage point was incredible.
Cloud to cloud lightning flashed above. Thunder shook the ground. It was getting exciting. How long before we dove for cover?
What a storm! Rain pounded the roof. Wind rocked the camper. And then it was gone.
The next morning was clear. This would be the last night of our trip. Had the “Tub Whisperer” scored again? We’d slowly make our way north until it was time to check in at Benton. We stopped at the unmarked trailhead for Sardine Lake and then continued up Onion Valley Road. We were surprised it was open to its end this early in the Spring as Onion Valley sits above 9100 feet.
The shaded north slopes were still snow covered. The sunny south facing slopes were clear. We wandered about in the crisp cold air, the kind of "air the angels breathe." Mark Twain
A Fox Sparrow posed on its perch in dwarf willows. Thanks, Patrick, for the ID.
At the end of a trip in this area, we’ll shop for groceries for home in Bishop. It was warm. We had an idea. How’s this for a decadent treat in Bishop’s downtown park?
It was excellent. Now, it was on to Benton.
“Are you with the wedding party?” the young man in the office at Benton asked when we entered to check in.
“Wedding party? No, we’re not with the wedding. A wedding here?” the Lady asked.
“Yeah,” the man excitedly explained. “A couple rented the whole place for their wedding. Two nights. All the rooms, cabins, and the entire campground.”
“But not the two new tub sites out in the meadow. That’s where we are, tub 15,” the Lady clarified.
“That’s right. You’re tub 15?”
“And where is the wedding ceremony taking place?” I asked.
“In the big open space in the campground. They’re setting up. It’s tomorrow. They have big pizza ovens set up for dinner today. I want to go have a look at them.”
“You’re not going to be a wedding crasher, are you?” the Lady asked.
The young man smiled.
“Maybe we will too.” The Lady added.
“No, we will not.” I ended that part of the conversation. An adult was needed in the room.
We made our way out to tub 15. This is our usual routine at Benton. The tubs are cleaned before you arrive and are filled. The inflow of hot water is full on when we arrive and can be a little too hot for us. A drain keeps the water level constant. We turn off the water and set up camp. We have an early supper. This allows the tub temperature to adjust to our liking. Then we ease on in and let the water work its magic. As the water cools, we turn on and adjust the inflow to keep the temperature where we want it. Around dusk we’ll go for a long walk and let the world grow dark. And return to the healing, restorative waters for a long soak under the stars. In the morning it’s breakfast in the buff.
We started on our evening walk. It is springtime. The bird
migration is on. I noticed it first, high in the sky to the south, coming our
way, a circling flock of about thirty turkey vultures.
“Oh, oh,” I said. The Lady knew what I meant.
Vultures (and their bigger cousins) are attracted to herds of animals. They evolved to follow herds and clean up the dead. This is why California Condors hang out at the south rim of the Grand Canyon – the huge herds of tourists.
It happened just as I thought it might. The wedding party was feeding on pizza, the kettle of vultures saw the herd and circled overhead, and circled, and circled. I doubt if any of the partiers ever looked up.
“This is just nature doing its thing,” I said to the Lady as we walked. “I hope nobody takes this as an omen.”
We enjoyed our evening walk. We have a dirt short cut that takes us high up on highway 120 above Benton. As we walked back down the pavement, two large cottonwoods on the edge of the campground were filling with vultures. The vultures had chosen their roost for the night, where they could watch the herd.
We left early the next morning before the vultures took flight. We hoped they weren’t circling overhead during the ceremony. That would be a bad sign.
