Eastern Sierra Hot Springs & The Alabama Hills (Labor Day, 2016)

     This Labor Day, Dexter and I put 612 miles on the odometer and we loved every mile of it.  I wanted to get away from the hoards of people that are always out and about on this holiday, so I headed to the Eastern Sierra Nevadas.  I knew there would be a lot of people roaming around there too, but it's so vast that I was sure I could find some peaceful places within it.


     We were out for five days and four nights and I could have stayed another week easily.  Since my agenda was kind of open, I just kind of moseyed and meandered my way south.  You really do see and enjoy the trip lot more when you don't have the rushed "get-there-itis" to make a certain destination by a certain time.

This was my playground for the long weekend!

DAY ONE

     I left Reno on Wednesday, around noon and began to notice that with each mile south, I saw fewer and fewer people.  I knew that would change as the weekend approached, but I was getting a head start to it by taking a few extra days off of work earlier in the week.

     My destination for the night was Buckeye Hot Springs, which is just west of Bridgeport, CA.  Buckeye H.S. is one of my favorite places to go because it's only a couple of hours from home, there's a lot of boondock camping in the area and it's gorgeous!  The springs are located in the Toiyabe National Forest, in an area just north of the Yosemite National Park boundary, so that should tell you how beautiful the area is.

The hot spring flows down a large mound of, what I believe is travertine, and

into some handmade pools that are adjacent to Buckeye Creek. 

You're rarely alone at these springs, but the crowds are usually small and I've always

met some really nice people while soaking here.  This day was no different.

After soaking a while, it's always nice to take a cold plunge in the river and then jump

back into the hot pools. 

This guy seemed to be meditating under the hot water.

The dictionary defines "Den-i-zen" as: an inhabitant or occupant of a particular place.  After

visiting a lot of hot springs over the years, I've identified what I call a " Hot Spring Denizen."

A Hot Spring Denizen is that person, usually a guy, who kind of quasi lives at the hot springs.  I've

met a Hot Spring Denizen at just about every spring I've been to it seems.  Sometimes they seem kind

of crazy and sometimes they're just living a nontraditional lifestyle, but they're always a character.

Hot Spring Denizen #1.  Gary said that he was from Ventura, CA and described himself

as being semi-retired all of his life.  He claimed to have just spent six days backpacking

through Yosemite NP and was just relaxing after a long week in the woods.  I don't know 

about ole Gary, because he showed up with a ice cold quart of bottled beer and no backpacker

I ever met hikes with a heavy bottle of suds.  Regardless of the validity of his story, he and I

had a good visit and he was a friendly, entertaining guy. 

Here was my campsite for the night.  The springs are just below (near where the car is 

parked, by the tree).

The evening was super quiet and I slept like a log.  The next morning, I would head further south.

DAY TWO

From Buckeye Road, I snapped this photo of little Bridgeport, CA, which is in that clump

of trees in the foothills on the far horizon.  Bridgeport is a beautiful little town that lies at 

6,463 ft. elev. and is, what I consider to be, the jumping off point to the eastern Sierra.

I've always wanted to visit the Hot Creek Geothermal area, near Mammoth, CA.  I've driven by the turnoff many, many times, but since it's fairly close to home, I've always said "I can visit these anytime."  Well, this was the time!

This area is home to about 7 different hot springs, all within a 10 mile radius, so it makes visiting them pretty easy.  There are only two drawbacks that I can see to visiting this area: 1.) the springs can be crowded at times because it's close to the tourist mecca of Mammoth Lakes and 2.) there were a lot of cattle grazing about and that means lots of little biting flies.  Other than that, it was a blast.

The Ski3pins dialed me into one of their favorite tubs in the area.  The actual soaking tub is about 200 yards off of the road.  Above is the source creek.

I know hot spring etiquette usually advises against camping too close to the soaking tubs, but here, there were a few people camping along the roadside and there were a couple of tent campers set up in the adjacent meadows, so I just popped up here for the night.

It was too hot to even think about soaking under the afternoon sun, so Dex and I went on a short hike and hunkered down in the camper until the heat of the day followed the sun west.

This appeared to be the main source of the hot creek that flowed down to the tub, which was probably 400 yards away. 

? 

This is a view of the tub from my camper.  The lone soaker in the tub would be Hot Spring Denizen #2.  Jerry arrived at the springs around 3:00 pm and had the tub to himself for an hour and a half or so.  During that time, a couple of families showed up to soak, but I guess a "Jerry-in-the-Raw" scared them away.

Jerry said that he was from northern California, but had been staying near the springs for a couple of weeks.  When I asked where he was camped, he said "it's a secret because I don't want any Claymore Mines placed near me."  Jerry LOVED to hear himself talk and when he finally let someone get a word in edgewise, he didn't hear a single thing they said.  When he saw my camper, he launched into many stories of how he builds his own pop-ups and, of course, they're so much better than FWC or ATC.  Around dusk, he finally hauled his naked heinie out of the tub and walked up the road to his "secret camp."

This vehicle (and dog) belonged to Hot Spring Denizen #3.  Around mid-afternoon, this car pulled up and parked near me.  The back hatch was remotely opened and out jumped this lovable mutt, but no one got out of the car.  After an hour passed, I approached the car and knocked on the window.  There, nestled in the middle of piles and piles of junk, was a very old man lying under a sleeping bag.  He must have been in his late eighties and could hardly hear me knocking on the glass.  Had he not let out an inaudible grunt, I would have thought he was dead.  I asked him if he was alright and he said that he was.  He said he reads late into the night and sleeps all day.  I guess he gets out of the car to occasionally use his porta-potty, but I never saw him leave the hoarders nest he had built within his car.

That evening, the tub had 3-5 people in it at any given time and we all soaked until almost 10:00 pm.  

The rest of the people I met were of the sane variety.  Brandon was a young guy, originally from Wisconsin, who had just backpacked and fished through the Golden Trout Wilderness, before ending his trip with a night at the hot springs.  Brandon had a job and a fiance to get back to in San Francisco, but he made it very clear that he wanted out of the Bay Area and the sooner the better.

An Orthodox Jewish woman, clad head to toe in black, with her two kids sporting Yamakas, showed up and her kids took a brief soak before moving on.  The tent campers came in for an evening soak and then finally an older hippie couple, on their way to Zion NP, showed up.  In spite of our vast differences, we all had such a fantastic time visiting with each other that it gives one a lot of hope for humanity.  

Little "Porky" had to make a showing at the spring too.

After an unusually cold night, a lot of us met up for a morning soak before we all went our separate ways.  

Just before pulling out of the area, I checked on the welfare of Hot Spring Denizen #3 and he was still alive and kicking and apparently hadn't moved from his little den since I saw him last night.

DAY THREE

I wasn't planning to soak at any other tubs in the area today, but I did want to visit them and get a feel for where they were for future visits.

This creek appeared to be on of the larger ones in the area.  It was warm, but not hot, and was full of this incredible algae. 

This was Shepard Hot Spring and it was kind of dismal looking.  I think before soaking, it would be a good idea to drain and refill it with clean water.  As you can see, it had some incredible views. 

Porky didn't want to get in either...

This spring is called "The Crab Cooker" and apparently it's source had dried up.  I don't know if the source flows seasonally or if it's permanently out of commission, but I'll stop by the next time I'm in the area to see.

The next spring is simply called "The Hot Tub."

This was a very nice little tub with clear, inviting water and great views. 

You might only get 4-5 people in The Hot Tub at any given time, but I'll definitely be back to this one. 

And that brings me to Hot Spring Denizen #4

As I pulled up to The Hot Tub, there was an old converted school bus parked fairly close to the spring.  Outside it, sat an old hippie guy with a long dirty beard, rolling something to smoke.  From inside the bus I could hear, what sounded like, a very vicious dog barking.  I walked up to the old hippie and he told me that he'd keep his dog in the bus, but his dog was very mean and protective.  From a distance, I looked into the bus and it was simply filthy.  I don't mean to be judgmental, but I couldn't believe that a human would live in such squalor.

The old hippie wasn't the talking type, but seeing me with my camera, he told me in a "not so subtle way" that publicity was bad for the area because there were already too many people coming to the area.  I think the whole stand-offish appearance and vicious dog thing he had going was his way of keeping people out of the area.  If he's there on my next visit, he better get used to my company because I'm not going to let him keep me from enjoying this nice little pool.  Who knows, we may even become friends.





Onward...

     After leaving the Mammoth area, I headed south on glorious Highway 395.  As you drop down into the Owens Valley, you loose a few thousand feet of elevation and the scenery is magnificent.  I should have pulled over on the vista point and taken a photograph or two, but I was too busy drinking it all in.

     Bishop was a madhouse, as it usually is in the summer, but on a holiday weekend, the town's in overdrive.  I planned to make my usual stop at Eric Schat's Bakkery, but the place was swamped, so I continued south.  

   

I went through Big Pine and Independence, CA...

Just south of Independence, CA, is the Manzanar National Historic Site, where Japanese citizens were relocated to during WW II, in the name of national security.



It was really hot that afternoon and I had Dexter with me.  Since dogs aren't allowed in the museum or visitor's center, I just took a couple of pics of the outside.  I understand that they have a wonderful museum and I plan to see it when an overheated dog is not a possibility.

The only guard tower still standing, gives you an eerie feeling about the place.




Next was Lone Pine, CA...

     Pretty much in the center of town, you turn west on Whitney Portal Road, and after on a few miles, you enter the Alabama Hills area, which is managed by the BLM.  It's funny because from U.S. 395, you have no idea this place even exists, but it's right there.

This is the first little guy to greet you when you enter the area.

These granite boulders are jumbled up everywhere.  Some are the size of a car and some comprise entire mountain ranges.

Just after entering the Alabama Hills, you'll come to Movie Road, which was named that because a lot of movies, mostly older westerns, were filmed in the area.

 This was one of the larger ranges in the A.H.  The Sierra Nevada range is in the background.

After driving around Movie Road for a couple of hours, I started to look for a good campsite for the night.

 Home for the night--not too bad, huh?

It was still very hot outside as I set up, but the sun would be setting soon enough.

 Just look at that view!

 Dexter really liked hopping around all of the rocks, as long as it was on the shady side of them that is.

 Lucky bird...

While hiking around, I stumbled on one of the elusive "GroovyDad" petroglyphs that legend has are in the area.

     The night was perfect.  There wasn't hardly a noise all night and the temperature was just right to sleep with all of the windows open, with a soft breeze blowing through the camper.

DAY FOUR

     The next morning, I drove up to the end of Whitney Portal Road, where the trail head leading up to the highest point in the lower 48 was located.  I only planned to hike to Lone Pine Lake, which is 6 miles out and back, but the trail shares the Mt. Whitney trail for the first 3 miles.  

 What a beautiful place to start a hike!




The trail head is at 8,350 ft. elev. and Lone Pine Lake sits at 10,050 ft., so we had
a respectable 1,700 feet of elevation gain ahead of us for the day.

 We crossed a few small creeks on the way up and Dex loved every one of them.

 We finally entered the John Muir Wilderness.  Day hikers don't need permits, but if you plan to stay overnight, you do.

Dexter would just lay in the creeks to cool off and I have to admit, I was a bit jealous.

We finally made it to the trail junction.  Go right and you're headed to Whitney; go left and little Lone Pine Lake is only a few hundred yards away.

 My first view of Lone Pine Lake.

 A guy I passed on the trail described Lone Pine Lake as looking as if it had fallen from the sky.  I now knew what he meant--it was gorgeous.

 The Alabama Hills lie way down below (in the center of the photo).

 A view of the lake (facing west).

One of the best places I've ever had lunch at.

After meandering around the lake for over an hour and hiking around it, we started our descent back down to the trail head.  It took a little over two hours to climb up, but we made it down in half that time.

 A cold bottle of Gatorade awaited me at this little outpost.

 This is the official trail head to Whitney.

The law requires hikers to pack everything out.

On the way back to camp, we stopped at the very sad looking Lone Pine Campground to camel up all of our water jugs.  I wondered who would elect to stay there when the Alabama Hills are just a few miles away.  I guess some people really like their restrooms.

Back in the Alabama Hills for the night, I found another great little campsite (they were all over the place) for the night.  Since no one was around for miles, I strolled out to a nice rock (buck nekkid) and put my solar shower to work.  It felt so nice to wash off the day's activities.

After dinner, I sat up my chair with an incredible view of the Sierras and watched the sun sink slowly behind them.  Just after the sun had set, a small crescent moon appeared just north of Whitney.  It just kind of arched there briefly, before following the sun behind the mountains.

It was absolutely silent as I sat there and read under the occasional bat that was flying around feeding off of whatever was unfortunate enough to be airborne at the time.  It was another damn near perfect night.

DAY FIVE

 The next morning, I had to get a shot of Porky.




We then hiked the very short little loop trail that leads to the Mobius Arch.

 On the way to the arch, I saw that Mother Nature saw fit to erode a little heart in the rocks above.

 Beautiful and hateful at the same time...

Two views of the famous arch.

Unfortunately, it was time to start heading back home and back to reality.

Knowing that Schat's Bakkery would no doubt be a madhouse again today, I took a chance and stopped at the Copper Top BBQ in Big Pine, CA.  I can tell you this, I will NEVER drive by this place again without stopping in.  It was definitely in the top three of the best BBQ joints I have ever been to (and it wasn't just because I was hungry).

I spoke with the owner, Hank Otten, who was busy manning a smoker and two Santa Maria style grills.  The smoker was full of ribs and the Santa Maria grills had tri-tip on one and chicken on the other.  Hank told me that he uses a combination of red oak, almond and mesquite woods for his cooking and I can tell you this, that man knows what he's doing.

They gave me so much food that I needed a doggie bag to to haul it all away.  I shared the contents of that doggie bag with my hound dog, who came with me on this wonderful trip.

There is so much to do and see in the Eastern Sierra that I'll be a busy man for years to come.  Finally, a BIG thank you to the Ski3pins for dialing me into some beautiful locations with their very accurate GPS coordinates--I owe you all big time!