Doug

This trip was a necessity. I’d been home a full week with a head injury, not able to do much more than walk Cleo – she was a happy girl because of it. I was grateful for the French Open Tennis and two Grand Prix weekends but I’d had enough couch time to last me five years. I’d had to bail on a mountain bike race on June 4^th and while we’d been tempted to attend the race as spectators and cheer on our mates, that would have meant another week at home doing not much so we opted to venture out.

On the last day of Memorial Weekend, Dan’s van returned from a trip and so we had a set of wheels. It only took us a few hours to get her flipped and were off just after lunch. A familiar drive, we were heading north east to Lake Tahoe to do a hike I’d had on my list for a while. It was the only activity open to me since everything else we do requires the use of a helmet and I was happy for the opportunity.

I worked through my homework list of phone-stuff to do while Dan drove us out of the Bay, in the opposite direction to returning long weekend traffic. It was refreshing to get into the pine trees along highway 50 and we were soon in very familiar territory. We were aiming for a camp we’d used in winter off the side of the highway thanks to its riverside appeal, but once there, we found an abandoned RV, a boat that had been ditched and a homeless person’s SUV. It had lost its character. A camping app showed us an alternative just across the road and so we went for an explore. What was described as a mere pull-out actually was a dirt road leading up into a clearing. The road was sandy, steep and rutted in places, but after walking up and having a look at the beautiful flat meadow we could have to ourselves, Dan was determined. It took him two goes, but the Club Wagon made it, much to our delight.

We parked up and explored our surroundings, finding a huge stack of very dry firewood just wanting to be burned. We lugged a lot of it up the hill to our spot and I cleared a space among the tall grass for later in the evening. Since we had service, we settled in our chairs and folded the TV out to watch Ted’s Notebook for the Monaco GP. Despite it being nearly 8:30pm, the sun was still high in the sky by the time we cooked dinner sat by the fire. We were very impressed with ourselves at our camp.

We’d just finished dinner when we heard the rumble of an engine and headlights coming our way. Bugger. The lights were bright and we immediately assumed Forest Ranger. We didn’t move, just stayed sat in our chairs waiting for the punishment to come. When the vehicle turned to reveal itself as a modest Jeep with a mountain bike hanging off the back, we were relieved that it was another camper. Normally in these situations, the other camper would drive off to a different spot to make camp, but we were soon greeted by Doug. It was dark so we couldn’t really see him that well, but he just said that he wanted to touch base since he’d be camping just down the hill. We got chatting and invited him to pull up a chair at the fire.

We had a great time with Doug, swapping travel stories. He was full-time traveling and had just enjoyed the last day of the ski season at Palisades Resort. He’d grown up in the area so we were surprised when he didn’t know about some of the camping tips we shared, but what he lacked in inexperience, he made up for in enthusiasm. He explained how he always carries his bowie knife and bear spray wherever he goes (they were in fact strapped around his waist) and doesn’t usually have a campfire to remain stealthy.

At around 11pm, we called it. We doused the fire and wished our friend a good night, expecting to hang out in the morning over breakfast. We’d been seeing shooting stars and even a comet as we sat by the fire and Dan managed to catch one more as we retired to the van.

Echo Lakes

Cleo woke us up in the morning because the curtains were closed and she couldn’t do her perimeter checks. I got up and started on coffee and last night’s dishes while Dan snoozed awhile and Cleo became obsessed with a hole in the ground at the front of the car. It was still pretty early and there was no sign of Doug so we decided to hit the road and have brekkie at the trailhead.

On the way out we saw Doug’s Jeep parked at the bottom of the meadow and left a business card in case our paths crossed again. We were only a half hour from Echo Lakes trailhead and I was surprised to see a view of Lake Tahoe from the carpark! We hadn’t even done any work yet and we were getting beautiful scenery.

After breakfast, we took our time getting our backpacks sorted and equalizing the weight between the two. I’d got us a permit to be in Desolation Wilderness for the next four days ($26 well spent) and so our packs were heavy with food and winter layers (it was a sunny 20ish degrees Celsius but we expected near-freezing temperatures overnight).

After a commemorative pre-hike photo, we were off – trekking along the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). We hadn’t made it the twenty meters to the Echo Chalet when I felt my bum get wet – my Camelbak was leaking. I farted around with that for a good ten minutes while Dan checked out the water taxi situation. For $20 per person and $7 per dog, you could get a lift to the west side of Echo Lakes, saving two miles of hiking. We hadn’t known about the option and definitely wouldn’t be taking it.

The first of Echo Lakes was bit, blue and beautiful and we crossed its dam to start our hike. Cleo’s paws didn’t like the metal framework so Dan carried her across to the safe dirt.

Beyond the dam, we started climbing gently on sandy singletrack until we were walking above and along the north shore of Echo Lakes. We saw a few other day hikers and backpackers, always opting to let them pass us since we were in full-on stroll mode. My head still ached every now and then, so we weren’t going to be setting any pace or distance records.

After a half mile we started seeing cabins and small homes dotted throughout the forest on the lakeside. We soon discovered there were multiple homes on both shores of the lakes. This was a summer haven! Now the water taxi made sense – it wasn’t intended for lazy hikers, but for holidaymakers seeking out their lakeside chalet!

All of the homes were still boarded up from the winter season with no recent signs of life, but with the sun out and the snow melted, we figured they were only a few weekends of away from being a hive of activity. We admired the different designs of each villa as we continued our trek into the forest.

Having passed by both lakes, the climb became a little more serious and the trail more rocky.

After passing two hiking parties taking their lunch trail-side, we ventured on a little further seeking out a view and we were handsomely rewarded. We parked up a little off trail at a flat spot overlooking both lakes. Chairs out, lunch made, we transitioned from stroll mode to chill mode and watched the taxi cross the lakes, trying to eye the channel between the two and figure out its movements.

Despite the cloudless sky and warm intensity of the sun, a brisk wind made us reach for our jackets and when lunch was done, we kept them on seeking warmth.

As we continued further west, we were surrounded by snow. The north face of the mountains opposite the lakes was patched with snow and we knew that meant we’d be walking in it eventually.

When we saw our first big patch, we pulled off the trail to let some hikers by and encourage Cleo to get in and play on her favorite terrain – it let us understand its consistency and thankfully it didn’t seem slushy, we’d be able to walk on top of it ok.

When we rejoined the trail, Dan was very impressed with himself, finding a perfectly good joint sitting on the trail protected in a dube tube. Some poor hiker wasn’t going to enjoy what he’d so carefully prepared, but Dan vowed to enjoy it for him.

Just after passing the turn-off to Tamarac Lake, we climbed a little more into some dense pine forest and the dirt beneath our feet turned to crunchy white snow. The snow trekking reminded us of our snow-epic in the Emigrant Wilderness last year. It was fun then, but this was meant to be a relaxing hike, not a navigational exercise.

Thankfully, the snow was only ever constant for a hundred or so meters and we didn’t have to work too hard navigating to stay on trail. If Cleo was happy before being on trail, she was ecstatic now, running all over the place like a maniac.

The snow meant we weren’t going to be able to do the original route I’d planned, made very evident by the waist-high sign pointing to Lake of the Woods being almost completely under-snow. It was also nearly 5pm, so it was a good time to camp.

We didn’t want to push through another two miles to make Lake Aloha so we settled on a little spot nestled amongst the pine trees and next to a babbling brook. We were lucky if we’d done five miles to start our trip. Perfect pace.

After setting up camp, we all found our spots in the sun and enjoyed the mountain views through the trees. Us humans were excited for another clear and star-filled night.

Having made and enjoyed dinner, I settled into my chair facing the mountains excited to listen to my audiobook. I was reading Obama’s “A Promised Land” in the physical format so when I found that I could download the audiobook onto my phone and continue listening where I’d left off reading, saving me the weight of a big book, I was stoked. I was very unimpressed then, when I was denied access to the audiobook since it hadn’t downloaded. I told Dan to never let me rely on technology like that again for a hike. Next time, I’ll bring the pages with me and cop the weight.

We were in bed by 8:30pm and while the sun had dipped behind the mountains, it was still light for nearly another hour. Thankfully Dan had his technology in order and we were able to listen to one of his downloaded podcasts until we all passed out with Cleo inside the sleeping bag at our feet.

Aloha

In the morning, the babbling brook was running noticeably slower after a freezing night. While we’d all slept well and been warm enough, we were quick to find spots in the sun to warm up. I had a bird bath shower in the creek to freshen up while Dan semi-broke down camp so that we could hang the tent and the mattress in the sun to dry after the wet ground had dampened them.

Breakfast with a view, again we were taking our time. Our foldable chairs were an essential part of each day. We sat in them for probably the same amount of time that we hiked.

We saw one hiker pass us by on the trail that morning but were otherwise alone. With everything properly dry, we were off around 10:30am. We switched between snow and dirt, continuing on through the forest that had opened up since yesterday. We got our first glimpses of Lake Aloha through the trees and wow did she look blue.

As we got nearer, passing a group of hikers returning from the lake, we saw that she was white as well as blue. A lot of the lake’s surface was covered in snow or thick ice. It was a stunning sight and one that we’d get to enjoy from many different angles over the next few miles.

The trail wound it’s way along the east side of the vast lake and we were faced with more snow. It was here that we were overtaken by our first PCT’ers (people hiking the entire PCT from Mexico to Canada or vice versa). Each one we saw looked different from us and other multiday hikers, they moved with purpose and packed light.

Knowing the trail followed the shore of the lake, we stopped navigating and just chose the best path to stay on as much granite as possible. No matter what the angle, the lake and the mountains across it were simply gorgeous.

I had to but whisper that I was getting hungry and Dan was setting up our chairs in the sun. Another cloudless day, we were overwhelmed by blue. It was easy to sit for an hour and eat our fruit and snacks while Cleo cooled herself off in a pool by the lake.

Once we’d reached the north end of the lake we had a decision to make. Since we weren’t going to make it to Gilmore Lake, Mount Tallac and definitely not Dicks Lake, we had to make a new plan. After a bit of um’ing and ar’ing and some friendly chat with a PCT’er who happened upon the trail intersection the same time we did, we turned east towards Lake Heather and Lake Susie.

We descended through a lot of snow into a different valley that looked a world away from Lake Aloha. The rocky trail wore no snow and the lakes were much smaller. We walked right by Heather and through a bit of forest to see down to Lake Susie.

Not wanting to descend down to the shores of Lake Susie, we opted for lunch with a high view of the lake. We’d been hiking for nearly an hour since our last break after all. Chairs out, we listened to distant PCT’er chatter and bird song while Cleo stood to attention trying to pinpoint the source of many squirrel and marmot cries.

We turned around from here, going back the way we’d come towards Lake Aloha.

Walking alongside Lake Heather a second time, now the water sparkled in the sunlight since the sun was in front of us. It was a stunning view, like we were in a completely different place from a couple of hours ago. Not longer after Dan contemplated out loud was snakes do in the winter, I saw two of the bloody things wriggle into the rocks from under my feet – obviously trying to catch their first taste of sun since a long winter.

4:20pm now and we were back at the trail intersection. I figured we’d be able to make it to Clyde Lake for a second night’s camp. This was off the PCT and the worry was that it would be too windy, but we decided to chance it. It was either that or trek through more snow.

Walking along the granite lining the north shore of Lake Aloha, we had our faces into the wind. It would not be pleasant to camp in, but Dan was hopeful that as we neared the cliffs at the far side of the lake that we’d be sheltered. Clever man he is, he was dead right. As we neared the section of trail that climbed up and over the next pass, the heat of the sun nearly compelled us to take our shirts off since there was no more wind to cool us.

Skirting Aloha, we passed tall weeping rocks. The streaks of water painted the white walls black with dramatic effect and gave us confidence that we’d be able to fill up with water anywhere.

As we started climbing up the pass towards Clyde Lake, the view of Lake Aloha got better and better. At times we were walking alongside waterfalls such was the snow run-off coming down off the saddle.

The steepness of the grade had us in complete shadow so we didn’t overheat as we climbed the switchbacks, often taking shortcuts to avoid steep sections of snow. We made our last push towards Clyde up a very snowy ridge until we were back into the sun.

We had a great view down into the next valley but there was no Clyde Lake, or trail for that matter, in sight. Everything was snow.

We hadn’t seen any recent tracks along the north shore of Aloha and figured no one else had come this way because it was still too early.

While we weren’t interested in venturing down the hill to Clyde Lake, Dan suggested that we at least try to spot it from up high. We dropped our packs then and ventured across the steep slope of snow to see what we could see.

I was a little nervous that Cleo would lose her footing and tumble down the hill but we all did just fine, making it a few hundred meters to a small group of boulders where we could see down into Clyde Lake.

It sat at the bottom of a snowy bowl and was hard to pick out because it was fully snowed over. The steepness of the bowl meant it would have made for a shady camp so we were happy to be enjoying the lake from a distance.

Having been impressed with the on-high views of Aloha during our last climb, we were more than happy to make our way back to that side of the mountain for the night’s camp. It was nearly 6pm, so a late day for us!

We retrieved our packs and Dan lead the way seeking out a flat spot on the granite mountain. It was a great spot to hunt, with no steep cliffs, but layers of granite rock all around with trees dotted throughout.

When he found our spot, I was in awe. It was a perfect tent-sized patch of level ground complete with a couple of large slabs of level granite right by it. The view was beyond description.

I went off to fill up with water and by the time I was back, I found my chair waiting for me. Dan had tried to encourage Cleo into the tent but there were marmots afoot and she couldn’t relax.

Dan and I sat and just took it all in. Everywhere you looked there was something different to take in, another feature to admire. When we heard noise, we looked to the sky, plane-spotting. It was easy to do thanks to the lack of clouds and it was a busy place! Throughout the day, we’d seen every type of aircraft – a touring helicopter, fire-fighting helicopter, prop planes, commercial airlines and a few mean-looking fighter jets!

After boiling water for our dinner, we took it in our tent. The wind was getting a little too nippy to be sitting outside. Not wanting to block our view but needing shelter from the breeze, we put the fly up over the back half of the tent before climbing in. The effect was amazing. We were perfectly sheltered by the weather but still had our amazing view.

With our bellies full and Cleo finally coaxed to sleep inside the sleeping bag, we lay back to enjoy the rest of the night. Dan was sound asleep in minutes, but I stayed up to watch the stars come out. Unbelievably, we had a few bars of cell service so I was able to listen to Obama for a good hour, keeping my eyes open to watch the scenery before us darken into night.

I got a real treat when I saw a bright light fly overhead, glowing starkly against the darkening sky. It was the ISS (International Space Station). It moved away from us towards the south end of the lake with incredible grace until its light faded into black. I should have woken Dan, but I couldn’t bear interrupting his sleep.

Finish-Line Syndrome

Cleo had a terrible night, all of her own making. Apparently, marmots keep working throughout the night and so she couldn’t bring herself to relax. We’d tried a couple of times to settle her down, but she wouldn’t be convinced – there were creatures out there making noise and she couldn’t bear not chasing them.

I woke up naturally at 5am despite setting an alarm for 5:20am to catch the sunrise. We were all up and out of the tent for a bathroom break and to admire the orange glow that creeped towards Aloha from the east side. We were way off on our guesses of where the sun would come up so we wouldn’t see the big ball for at least another hour.

Back to bed then, we were up properly around 8am when it was too bright to keep our eyes shut. We stayed in the tent another hour or so just admiring the view – today there were some clouds to look at! This is something we hadn’t seen since starting our trek.

Dan started his coffee while Cleo and I went to top up with water. I was constantly calling her back from the cliffs, she was so determined to catch something!

When I got back to camp, the water still hadn’t boiled and Dan was making a windbreak out of our packs to encourage progress. The wind had picked up since last night, so we were thankful for the stillness we’d enjoyed while we had it.

The wind meant we were slow to make oats for breakfast too, but we couldn’t have cared less, we were in no rush to walk away from this view.

As we sat eating, Dan’s keen eye spotted a coyote/wolf sauntering along lakeside far below us. It took him a few tries to finally get me to spot him, moving me into different positions and pointing out different landmarks until I saw the tiny four-legged figure walking around like he owned the place. It was a perfect distance to see him from and was somehow comforting to know that something could survive in such a beautiful but harsh place as this.

It was 11:00am when we started thinking about getting going. Rookie mistake, we’d forgotten to lay the mattress and tent out for drying, but again, who cares? The sun was so intense it only took five minutes anyway, we just had to make sure nothing blew away. It must have been noon by the time we left our camp – the best hiking camp of our lives.

We had an easy stumble down the path we’d come up, following the same shortcuts to avoid the snow. Dan got lucky again with booty, finding a long piece of cord and a carabiner while I was filling up with water. The cord was in great condition but well-faded, suggesting it had probably been out there for a few seasons.

As we ventured back along the shores of Aloha, the wind was fierce at our backs, much stronger than it had been yesterday. We played the granite versus snow game, making our own way back to the trail intersection we’d hit yesterday. Now we were heading back towards Echo Lakes.

Turning to follow Aloha’s east shore, I was grateful for Clyde Lake. Though we hadn’t reached it, it is what made us venture along Aloha’s north shore and find such a stunning place. Without the lake to tempt us that way, we’d have probably just camped at Lake Susie and never known!

Before heading away from the lake, we stopped for lunch near its south end. We thought we’d found a spot out of the wind, but that was not the case. Dan was halfway done making our wraps when it picked up and got nastily strong. We braved it out, getting our down jackets on, but it was no good. The wind was sweeping the cold straight off the lake and making it unpleasant. It made us ever-more grateful for the stillness we’d enjoyed the past two days and nights.

Now for the snow trudge, we climbed the hill away from Lake Aloha, making frequent stops to look back at the big blue mass until she was no longer visible through the trees.

We were both low on phone battery so we kept navigational checks to a minimum, attempting to find our way by following snow tracks and the lay of the land as best we could. The closer we got to solid ground, the more day hikers we saw venturing out to Aloha. If only they knew of the stunning weather they’d just missed! Today’s weather wasn’t bad, but the fluffy white innocent clouds of the morning were quickly turning into grey angry ones.

Once we reached the top of the saddle, we started thinking that we could make it back to the van today. I’d originally planned for a three-night, four-day trek, but with the excessive snow I thought we could camp at Lake Tamarac for our last night. Well, we reached that lake around 3pm and I happened to mention cold beers in the van’s fridge so that was pretty much that.

The snow trek through the forest had given us a reprieve from the wind but by the time we were descending to Echo Lakes, it had whipped up again. Thanks to the greying clouds, Tamarac and Echo Lakes were no longer a bright blue but a darker shade that made them look ominous.

We were all slowing down now that we could see the finish line and we were happy for the gentle descent towards Echo Lakes. When Cleo sat down mid-trail, we took a second lunch break.

While it was tempting to feel sorry for the tired girl, it had been her choice to stay up all night fretting about marmots. As we ate tomorrow’s lunch rations, she caught a few minutes of sleep in the sun.

After about 45 minutes, the wind was getting too cold and the clouds a little too black so it was time for the final push.

It was nice to get a second look at the lakeside cabins as we skirted Echo’s shore and could just imagine the Summer-time memories that are made in them. We greeted hikers heading into the wilderness and while Cleo sat down at every opportunity, she still had it in her to chase every lizard that she saw so we still had limited sympathy for her. We all had finish-line syndrome, growing wearier with each step towards home.

Right at the end, I needed a bathroom break so we took a short path to a vista point and it was a nice way to end our hike. We got a gorgeous view of Lake Tahoe and could see the devastation left by the Caldor Fire of two years ago.

We greeted fishermen braving the high winds at Echo Lake’s shores before making very slow progress up the short hill to the van. We reached it at around 6pm. Again with the chairs, we set them up by the van and had cold beers in hand quick smart. We’d had a wonderful, relaxing, awe-inspiring time in the wilderness but were thoroughly happy to take off our packs.

We hung out for about an hour, just reminiscing, then ventured out into our usual wilderness to find camp. First, we stopped in at the local sno-park, but that was too easy an option. Next, we wound our way along highway 50 to a free campground which was way too crowded for our liking so we drove on through until we found a forest road. Here, we saw no one and when Dan found a rough road leading up the hill we were off.

After passing a neat pile of stuff staged at the corner of the road, we foun our camp. We were blocking the road, but the grade above us was impassable to us so we figured we wouldn’t be bothered.

Being up high, we had a nice view down into the valley and could also see snow-capped mountains in the far distance. We were home. Too exhausted for dinner, we had an early night.

No Agenda

The next day, we had planned to be still tent camping so the world was ours. Cleo and I were the ones sleeping in while Dan got coffee and breakfast started. When I eventually rose, I unpacked our bags and tidied the van.

Dan took my suggestion to cook up a bit of rice to bulk up our eggs and bacon and great smells filled the van. When I heard a crash and a yelp I looked up to see Dan with his hands up, spatula in hand. The saucepan had fallen to the ground – the rice and majority of the bacon with it. Thankfully he didn’t end up with hot oil on his feet but most of our bacon was spoiled. He saved what he could and Cleo ended up having a very gourmet breakfast.

The day was warming up nicely so that we could sit in just t-shirts as we ate. We contemplated finding a river to have a cold shower, but Dan’s suggestion to warm up water and make use of our isolation won out. He went first, cleansing himself after three days of hiking. My turn – it was blissful just to feel clean again.

Just as I finished showering, we ran out of water so that made our next step easy – go find some more. We were thinking we’d go find a spot to hang out by the big lake so we headed that way.

I was using iOverlander to find water spots and there was one at Regan beach. Not sure if we’d visited this section of lake before, we drove into the tourist town that is South Lake Tahoe commenting that while we loved coming here, we’d never want to live full time in the middle of the rat race.

At Regan Beach, we were pleasantly surprised to find heaps of parking, a playground, huge grass area, toilets and the gorgeous lake. It was everything you could possibly want at a public beach. What we didn’t find was a water spigot. We parked and explored further on foot, finding the spigot under a winter-insulating pouch. Dan drove the car around and we filled up with ice cold Tahoe water.

With our chores done, it was time to hit the beach. Dan drove us around to the far side of the beach and found ourselves a beautiful private patch of sand. I packed a bag and we settled in on the grainy sand.

The clouds and wind of yesterday were hanging around but it made the temperature quite pleasant. We posted up, got Cleo into the water for a drink, then settled in to relax for the rest of the morning. We got in some people watching, bird watching, but mostly just enjoyed the view and our conversation.

By mid-afternoon, we were properly sun baked and figured it was time to move on and treat ourselves to lunch.

Having never travelled down into the Nevada valley via Kingsbury Grade, we took that route. Dan pointed out the landmarks along the first section as this had been his commute when working on a remote chair lift at Heavenly a few years ago. Once we reached the peak and started our descent into Gardnerville, we were both in new territory.

We drove through farmland to the Overland Pub and snagged a table on their shaded porch where Cleo was welcome. Cleo slept while we ate burgers and while they were nice, we were reminded how little we want to eat out, always feeling that we paid too much for a meal we could have made ourselves.

It had been a late lunch, so once we were done we were ready for another camp. We’d seen a few forest roads leading off Kingsbury Grade so we ventured back up the mountain to see what trouble we could get into.

The answer was a little. The first road we tried was steep but Dan was confident. With the Club Wagon in first gear he pinned it up the sandy slope but the wheels spun holding us in place. After rolling down the hill, we got the same result a second time. Ok fine, we knew the road connected with the highway further along so we’d try that.

After passing the road and turning around, we had a much better run at this one and it wasn’t nearly as steep. It got quite rutted at the top but Dan kept momentum and picked a great line to get us through until we peaked over the top. Both our hearts went into our mouths as we saw sky and not much else. We couldn’t see the road below us, the road to our right was perilously steep but to our left was a nice flat spot – it was camp. Dan pulled over to our left and we took a deep breath.

Keeping with our rule of wanting to be pointed at the exit, Dan spent the next twenty minutes maneuvering the van carefully around perilous ruts and steeps declines to get us level for the night. Satisfied with our spot, we took a walk up the hill for a sticky-beak. Cleo followed along but moved gingerly and slowly, not dissimilar to us.

Back at the van, I was determined to sit outside and enjoy the view despite the wind that was whipping up. I set up our chairs, the Thai mat and got the sleeping bag out and Cleo soon joined us at our feet. I read my book – the physical version – looking up often to watch the movement of cows across the green fields of Gardnerville and follow the traffic just below us.

We lasted maybe an hour, the wind just got too cold. We stayed holed up in the van the rest of the night, the rocking from the wind getting more and more as the night wore on. Back in cell service, I was able to catch up on the French Open to get ready for the finals starting the next day. Cleo on the other hand, only had one thing to catch up on.

Hot Drive Back

After watching the women’s final, we descended from Kingsbury Grade to find a spot sheltered from the wind to make brekkie. I picked out Clear Creek trailhead and as we cooked and ate, we watched dozens of mountain bikers head up into the hills. Today was the day of the mountain bike race in Wente and while I was disappointed not to be there, I was happy with my decision to not race. Having hit my head on the TV last night, I had a bit of throbbing going on, so was in no state to be riding.

I checked out the trail map and was excited to find that it wound all the way through the valley and up into the Sierras, connecting with the Tahoe rim trail. It would be a fun one to explore another time. I got chatting with a couple of riders before we packed up and hit the road.

Taking highway 89 then 88, we enjoyed the scenic route home, hitting the heat of the valley once we got into Stockton. Thankfully the Bay breeze brought relief not long after and the traffic wasn’t too chaotic as we returned to the Bay Area and our roof not on wheels.

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