Unexpected tendrils of winter
This term is going to be the term where things finally happen. Fall was about adjusting to a new place and way of life and winter consumed all joy. There were small moments of adventure here and there, but ultimately life was dominated by monotony. But spring is the incoming of warmth and light that I need to spur me back into the world... at least that's what I thought I would get when Gabe Wooden, Kenny Karter, and myself set off around twelve noon on Saturday of last weekend.
The new characters of this story:
Gabe Wooden fancies himself a classic street punk. His typical attire includes any of three patch-covered skinny jeans, a number of similarly adorned jackets, and almost always (though ironically not in these images) a completely customized hats. The guy looks like a bulletin board of anti-nazi sentiment. That's an important quality of note: Gabe hates Nazis. He hates them more than just about anything. Dare I say it, he has an unreasonable hatred of Nazis. So, if you count yourself among that group of folks, you may want to hide from this kiddo. He'll threaten you.
Kenny Karter I have known since fourth grade. He's one of those people in my life who I consider an eternal. He's pretty much been an ever-present force, even in times where our contact with each other has been minimal. After elementary school we shared the torturous experience of middle school. We also participated in the Boy Scouts together for a few years, making many of our shared memories at summer camp. In high school is where we became somewhat separated. I went to private while he stuck with public school. Some force in the universe clearly wants our friendship to continue, though, as by chance we chose the same college and now once again see each other every day. It's a good time.
We had been planning all week to go camping. Originally there were others coming with us, but for one reason or another they dropped out, leaving it at just us three. That was fine, as it meant it was a lot simpler to get around and set things up. Having no money, camping on BLM land was going to be the name of the game. I had done my research and found a location next to a lake called Hyatt Lake. I had never been there before, but based on some pictures it looked nice for spring camping.
Only problem is that the spring is still new. And I payed no attention to elevation in my research.
We set off in Gabe's filthy but charming van packed to the brim with all the gear we thought we would need for a desert campout. (Oh yes, we thought we were going to the desert!). The drive, needless to say, was gorgeous.
The new characters of this story:
Gabe Wooden fancies himself a classic street punk. His typical attire includes any of three patch-covered skinny jeans, a number of similarly adorned jackets, and almost always (though ironically not in these images) a completely customized hats. The guy looks like a bulletin board of anti-nazi sentiment. That's an important quality of note: Gabe hates Nazis. He hates them more than just about anything. Dare I say it, he has an unreasonable hatred of Nazis. So, if you count yourself among that group of folks, you may want to hide from this kiddo. He'll threaten you.
Kenny Karter I have known since fourth grade. He's one of those people in my life who I consider an eternal. He's pretty much been an ever-present force, even in times where our contact with each other has been minimal. After elementary school we shared the torturous experience of middle school. We also participated in the Boy Scouts together for a few years, making many of our shared memories at summer camp. In high school is where we became somewhat separated. I went to private while he stuck with public school. Some force in the universe clearly wants our friendship to continue, though, as by chance we chose the same college and now once again see each other every day. It's a good time.
We had been planning all week to go camping. Originally there were others coming with us, but for one reason or another they dropped out, leaving it at just us three. That was fine, as it meant it was a lot simpler to get around and set things up. Having no money, camping on BLM land was going to be the name of the game. I had done my research and found a location next to a lake called Hyatt Lake. I had never been there before, but based on some pictures it looked nice for spring camping.
Only problem is that the spring is still new. And I payed no attention to elevation in my research.
We set off in Gabe's filthy but charming van packed to the brim with all the gear we thought we would need for a desert campout. (Oh yes, we thought we were going to the desert!). The drive, needless to say, was gorgeous.
It was when looking down at Immigrant Lake as a tiny splurge on the landscape that we started to become really aware of how high were were climbing. The Valley is dominated by the cities, and all the wilderness is in the surrounding mountains. Nevertheless, we felt that because it was a lake it must lie at a somewhat lower altitude. We pressed on.
Quite suddenly the landscape changed from high desert into snow tundra. Snow even started falling a little. This was a worrying sign.
After a while of moving only uphill, the turnoff we needed for the campsite was upon us. There was snow everywhere. It was beginning to look a lot like this location was going to be a bust.
Sure enough, the plan was thrown into the dump. Camping here was not going to work out. After taking a quick poke around we went back to the car and using what little signal we had on our phones desperately looked for alternatives. Gabe had spent good money on tent rentals, and Kenny and I on food, so we didn't want to give up.
Finally we pinpointed a location near Mt. Ashland. With little alternatives, we started back the way we came. We had to backtrack all the way back down through the snowy tundra, through the high desert, back onto the valley floor, find the new road we needed, then once again began climbing. It ate up valuable hours of the day.
Finally we pinpointed a location near Mt. Ashland. With little alternatives, we started back the way we came. We had to backtrack all the way back down through the snowy tundra, through the high desert, back onto the valley floor, find the new road we needed, then once again began climbing. It ate up valuable hours of the day.
The road on the way up was incredibly twisty. Luckily Gabe had lived his whole childhood in the mountains near Santa Cruz and was expert on taking these kinds of janky roads. It was a journey that kept my jaw clenched, but we finally made it to the Mt. Ashland ski resort. Just past that was another auxiliary parking lot for the resort, with a trail in the snow leading off into the wild. We got out to take a look up the trail and found it to be a rather perfect camping spot, save for snow being everywhere. We went back to the parking lot to grab our stuff.
This kind beast was there also:
This kind beast was there also:
Right as we started setting things up it began to snow heavily. Winter was getting ready to show us that it's rule over the highlands was not yet complete.
There was nothing else to be done. We climbed into the tent to shelter from the onslaught of snowfall.
We sat in the tent for about an hour, just chilling in the warmth. But then, all too quickly, it began to get too warm (a problem we would wish for later in the night). When we realized that the snow had stopped falling and that the sun was once again out, we suited up and went out again.
Gabe was really set on having a camp fire. Kenny and I were a little more skeptical due to the sheer amount of moisture that surrounded. I remembered Louis and I at the ranch and how much difficulty we had getting fire in that cold weather. With snowfall it was impossible, and even without snowfall it was a good challenge. Nevertheless, it was a thing to do, so I helped Gabe out by slashing some dead branches down from nearby pines with my machete. Gotta tell you, having that sheath on there makes a huge difference with carrying that thing around.
I ended up being as I usually am in the snow: underdressed. I do this on purpose. Despite the air being cold, it's still possible to get really hot. My carhearts and a t-shirt were enough for this weather.
While Gabe kept working on the fire Kenny and I decided to go for a little walk and see what else there was in the area. Why I didn't bring my camera, I don't know. There were some pretty cool views on the way back in. Gabe, however, back in the tent, had my camera in his possession, and snapped some shots of Kenny and I as we made our way back.
Gabe was really set on having a camp fire. Kenny and I were a little more skeptical due to the sheer amount of moisture that surrounded. I remembered Louis and I at the ranch and how much difficulty we had getting fire in that cold weather. With snowfall it was impossible, and even without snowfall it was a good challenge. Nevertheless, it was a thing to do, so I helped Gabe out by slashing some dead branches down from nearby pines with my machete. Gotta tell you, having that sheath on there makes a huge difference with carrying that thing around.
I ended up being as I usually am in the snow: underdressed. I do this on purpose. Despite the air being cold, it's still possible to get really hot. My carhearts and a t-shirt were enough for this weather.
While Gabe kept working on the fire Kenny and I decided to go for a little walk and see what else there was in the area. Why I didn't bring my camera, I don't know. There were some pretty cool views on the way back in. Gabe, however, back in the tent, had my camera in his possession, and snapped some shots of Kenny and I as we made our way back.
It had started snowing again, just as heavily as before. Fire was not going to happen. Once again we all crawled into the tent. Gabe finished off another cigarette.
Back in the tent, we had a classic dinner of Kipper Snacks and Saltines. I had wanted to introduce Kenny and Gabe to the Louis & Keegan classic of Herring on Pilot Bread, but we couldn't find Sailor Boy Pilot Bread anywhere. Saltines were a fine substitute, but I think may have distracted a bit too much from the taste of the herring.
Hours more were spent in the ever-colder tent. At first it had been plenty warm, but over time the tent grew colder and colder. We distracted ourselves by listening to some music and a recorded standup comedy routine, but after awhile Gabe's speaker died. We lay in silence for awhile, hoping that sleep would take us soon and we'd be transported to a warmer morning sun.
It was cold, but the night was gorgeous. When we fell asleep, we'd be sleeping in the midst of one of God's greatest paintings.
Hours more were spent in the ever-colder tent. At first it had been plenty warm, but over time the tent grew colder and colder. We distracted ourselves by listening to some music and a recorded standup comedy routine, but after awhile Gabe's speaker died. We lay in silence for awhile, hoping that sleep would take us soon and we'd be transported to a warmer morning sun.
It was cold, but the night was gorgeous. When we fell asleep, we'd be sleeping in the midst of one of God's greatest paintings.
That would be, however, if we slept through the entire night. But we didn't. No, we bailed right the hell out of there.
I think the idea, which was on all our minds, that we would freeze to death while we slept got to Gabe, because he was the first to suggest we leave. Kenny agreed and the vote was 2-1. I, too, was glad to be leaving although I'll never admit it. I need to keep up the appearance that I'm in invincible wild-man purpose built for endurance.
With swift efficiency we packed up everything, not really worrying about making sure it was neat. That could come later. We stuffed everything into the van and under the dark of night drove away from that cold and desolate place. It was beautiful for sure, but also could easily have killed us with how cold it was getting.
So, a lame end. But an excellent adventure.
I hope you enjoyed reading about this. It's nice to post on my personal blog from time to time. There's going to be more going on this spring. More adventures with the people from around here, and, on Memorial Day weekend, something with Louis. You'll be reading / maybe watching about that in the weeks to come.
Vinteren aldri tar slutt.
I think the idea, which was on all our minds, that we would freeze to death while we slept got to Gabe, because he was the first to suggest we leave. Kenny agreed and the vote was 2-1. I, too, was glad to be leaving although I'll never admit it. I need to keep up the appearance that I'm in invincible wild-man purpose built for endurance.
With swift efficiency we packed up everything, not really worrying about making sure it was neat. That could come later. We stuffed everything into the van and under the dark of night drove away from that cold and desolate place. It was beautiful for sure, but also could easily have killed us with how cold it was getting.
So, a lame end. But an excellent adventure.
I hope you enjoyed reading about this. It's nice to post on my personal blog from time to time. There's going to be more going on this spring. More adventures with the people from around here, and, on Memorial Day weekend, something with Louis. You'll be reading / maybe watching about that in the weeks to come.
Vinteren aldri tar slutt.