Morro Bay » Barstow, CA

2009-08-01: Back into the San Joaquin Valley I plunged, attempting to arrive in Barstow before nightfall. It did not happen that way.

I passed through the town of Lost Hills, home to a massive oil field full of pumpjacks in a variety of drab colours. These are sometimes called "Nodding Donkeys". Literally hundreds of them tilted slowly up and down. For whatever reason, I found it slightly unsettling. I neglected to get any photos so I've posted some I've found on the Internet.

After a 5 or 6 hour haul, I pulled into Barstow for fuel and something to drink, and looking around, I decided I could not stay there. The town looked sickly. The surface of the dusty freeway had been shattered by passing trucks and was illuminated by the ghastly yellow-green glow of ageing streetlights. Shabby motels, bearing weather-worn signs from decades past, lined the main strip, their little lights flickering on and off. Greasy 24-hour diners offered guaranteed stomach discomfort. Liquor stores, sex shops, and tattoo parlours, their windows guarded by thick steel bars, filled in the gaps.

Beyond the town's east side, the dark emptiness of the Mojave Desert awaited my attempt to cross it. I intended to start early the next morning, but I did not think sleeping in Barstow was a desirable thing. My map indicated that there was a rest stop 20 miles out on Interstate 15. Midnight was approaching and the temperature was still around 89 degrees. There was no wind. I rolled down my window and assumed I'd be left alone while I slept at this bustling highway outpost in the desert.

Monterey » Morro Bay, CA

2009-08-01: It turned out that the water in Monterey was too cold for a pleasant swim. The air temperature was a constant 60 degrees and it was raining much of the time. Having no well-defined schedule, I decided to go to a town called Morro Bay, around 100 miles south - surely the temperature would be warmer there, I thought. I could also travel via California State Highway 1. I think it has to be one of the most beautiful coastlines in the world - if not, I cannot imagine what landscape could render it mundane.

Unfortunately, the waters of Morro Bay were just as chilly as those in Monterey, so swimming was still not a good option. I had to make a decision there. I was around the right latitude for my next major destination (the Grand Canyon), but, I could also continue some 350 miles south to San Diego, a destination which I had marked as tentative. Eventually I decided to skip southern California, rationalizing the decision by assuming I'd have some reason to visit the area at some point in the future. Thus, I left the fogbound coast and made for the interior desert.

Travel Notes: Millerton Lake SRA » Monterey, CA

Monterey would be my next destination, as I hoped to swim in the Pacific. The route I took ran through agricultural land and briefly through the Santa Cruz Mountains (I think). Monterey seemed nice enough, but on my schedule I didn't have time for sightseeing; laundry and groceries took priority. All things were very expensive there.

Millerton Lake State Recreation Area

2009-08-01: It was dusk when I began the winding descent back into the central valley. Night came quickly as the sun vanished behind the western mountains. It seemed no one wanted to be in the front of the line of cars travelling down the mountain highway, as they pulled aside, letting me pass them whenever I got close enough. The line of cars thinned and eventually disappeared, and I faced the narrow roads and sharp turns on my own. Surprisingly, though I was straining to see it, I encountered no wildlife.

My destination was Millerton Lake State Recreation Area. I was not eager to visit another California SRA after McConnell, but I tried to be optimistic. After registering and finding my designated site in the dark, I inspected the camp and found bits of trash scattered about. I kicked aside what I could and set up camp, leaving the rain fly off of my tent to enjoy the pleasant temperature and starry sky. I used the only shower with a working light and tried to sleep.

Sleeping was not as easy as I had hoped. A Hispanic family a few sites over was grilling some midnight sausages, though they weren't being unreasonably loud. An owl decided the tree above my tent would be a good place to perch and make its loud owl calls all night. I doubt I could have chased it away. In the morning, I observed just how much garbage was lying around the camp, including a shoe hanging from the tree.

I resolved to avoid using any more SRAs in California after this one.

Kings Canyon / Sequoia National Parks - Part III

Kings Canyon / Sequoia National Parks - Part II

Kings Canyon / Sequoia National Parks - Part I

2009-07-31: My morning began in the warmth of the San Joaquin Valley. Still reeling from the epic beauty of Yosemite, I anticipated another day of similarly wondrous experiences. There would be the trees that were said to be the largest in the world, and a canyon that was deeper than the Grand Canyon.

I climbed out of the foothills in the early morning and reached the mountains' sequoia forests. Indeed, the enormity of the massive trees cannot be described - one has to look up and see it there to really understand it - it has to be felt. Because the sequoias, specifically the Generals Grant and Sherman Trees, were so huge, I could not get a proper photo of myself in front of one as I would have had only had ten seconds on my camera's timer to sprint back in front of it, hoping the shot came out as desired, all while other waited for their turn. Thus, it seemed sensible to simply use other people who were posing as a show of scale.

I followed Highway 180, stopping many times along the way, to somewhere named Road's End.

The sign marking it was as plain as one might expect, however, its name hinted at wonderful things hidden in the distance. I pondered this for a moment. Though the road had guided me when I was far from home, perhaps in abandoning it, there could be found a "higher tier" of freedom unknown as of yet. Some day, I would like to find out if that is so.

Travel Notes: Yosemite NP » Fresno, CA

I stopped in Fresno en route to Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks, as it was the largest city between the two locations, positioned almost perfectly at the intersection of the longitude and latitude, respectively, of the aforementioned parks. One thing Fresno is known for is its large Armenian population, and based on that I decided to find an ethnic restaurant. I found a place named, simply enough, George's Bar and Grill. They had all my favourite things; it was especially satisfying after a long day of non-stop activity. As was becoming the norm, a highway rest stop in the direction of Kings Canyon/Sequoia was to be my campsite for the night.

Yosemite National Park - Part IV

Yosemite National Park - Part III

Yosemite National Park - Part II

Yosemite National Park - Part I

2009-07-30: This place is absolutely stunning. I will let the photos illustrate that fact. High mountain meadows, cascading waterfalls, cool rivers of the purest water, and azure skies all come perfectly together to form not just a beautiful vista, but an entire experience. I came in on State Highway 140, along roads at elevations climbing to heights of over 9000 feet, and went all the way to Mono Lake. As with many other parks, camping was unavailable. I reluctantly left and headed for Fresno.

San Francisco - Part II

2009-07-29: Across the street from the Tea Garden is the Botanical Garden, which is also a pleasant place to be. Some of the plants were from exotic climates and were unlike any I was familiar with. Wild birds, including quail and hummingbirds, could be found throughout. One small patch of wildflowers concealed dozens of small, brightly coloured birds, all of which took flight as I approached.

It was nice to take a casual pace through the gardens, rather than fighting extreme terrain and conditions, at least for a couple of hours.

I then drove west, into the Central Valley, to the town of Manteca, where my parents had lived, and got a "trophy photo" of myself in front of their old residence. Here the weather was hot and dry. Looking for a place to camp, I thought that McConnell State Recreation Area sounded good. It is on the banks of the Merced River, with showers, which I desperately needed. I took a quick drive through Stockton (I was born there) and got back on the south-bound highway.
Once I had gotten off the interstate, the rural road was lined by orchards and poor farmer's shanties. Gang graffiti tags were found everywhere along the concrete irrigation canals. The park's office was practically boarded up and that the entry gate was broken off. The pay box was gone. The dumpsters were overflowing with trash. The small park was filled with what seemed to be poor Hispanic families. And none of these things were a problem for me.

But I looked around and saw that this was a rough crowd. It would only take one person to cause trouble for the "outsider" that I was. I thought I'd take a shower and then decide what to do. The shower had a lot of dirt on the floor...not mud, but bits of dirt and sand. I put in a dollar into the machine and it didn't work. But the handicapped spigot, about 3 feet off the floor, did work. And that's how I took my shower. I left the park at dusk. The endless rows of small trees and their shadows looked very strange in the dwindling light. I found a highway rest stop where CalTrans provided wireless internet access, and used it to catch up on some things. In the news, I read something about budget cuts for hundreds of California parks.