All posts by Steve Stern

A trip to the mountains west of Death Valley

Americana, California, Camping, Death Valley, Travel

Last Thursday I, along with my wife Michele and our friends Howard Dunair and Basha Cohen, spent the day driving down Highway 395.  Highway 395 runs from Canada to somewhere in the Mojave Desert.  Between Reno, where we got on to Big Pine, where we got off, 395 runs just to the east of the Sierras. Reno is at about 4500 feet and Big Pine is at about 4100,m but, from Reno, the road climbs to a pass of over 8100 feet so Big pine seems much lower.

The Mojave desert is the the UFO desert, the wacko desert, and it seems to have seeped up the 395 corridor.  About an hour south of Reno, we ran into a guy who was pulling a cross from San Francisco to, I think, St. Louis. He had been saved by Jesus and wanted to save others. Like other people I have met who have been saved, he was sincere, open, passionate, and living so far from my reality as to be incomprehensible. I do admire his conviction, however.

 

Miles later, web got to an overlook and view spot with a guard rail. The guard rail has become a poster board for – for lack of a better word – travel stickers. I think that I first saw a bunch of travel stickers stuck on the windows of a a store – for foreigners – at the edge of the Sahara desert. Now I notice them anywhere tourists pass by, such as a guard rail at a view spot. Here – as Michele poinbted out – was an interesting group that showed one evolution of the Keep Tahoe Blue sticker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we moved south, after crossing the high point of Highway 395, we dropped from one basin to another, each one lower and warmer with the Sierras on our right getting higher and higher. Mile after mile.

 

Finally, at Big Pine, we turned left off of the highway and drove towards the deep desert.

And once we reached Eureka Valley, we stopped to drink a toast to the road.

To be continued….

The Wedding

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I am not much interested in the Wedding of the Decade. Watching somebody I don’t know get married on TV just does not seem that interesting. I did enjoy Robert Altman’s movie A Wedding, however.  On the other hand, I like to watch very specialized cars drive around and around a track to see who is faster so I am in no position to say say what people should or should not watch on TV, or what is serious and what is frivolous.

I consider myself a small “d” democrat and somewhat of an anti-monarchist. Actually, I have not been around enough monarchs to be an anti-monarchist in anything but theory although I did date, for a while, a Homecoming Queen from the University of Texas. Also, I have never been invited to any royal weddings – even the Texas girl’s. I did once photograph a very minor maharajah – known as a raja, I think – when we stayed at the  Bijaipur Castle and I was so nervous and sweating so much I thought my camera might squirt out of my hands. I did get alot of nice shots of commoners, though.

I am mildly interested in the ho haw surrounding the wedding. The professed claim that this is not a state occasion but a personal occasion as the reason the Obamas or the Blairs are not invited. Apparently just seventeen hundred of their closest friends was all there was room for, so no old friends of the boys’ mother were included. Fortunately, there was room for Shaikh Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, the “King” of Bahrain. I guess the fact that he recently killed some of his troublesome subjects was not a deal breaker – although it did get the Syrian ambassador’s invite rescinded.

Anyway, Happy Wedding Day to all.

Road with a view

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I have been driving up to and down Highway 35 – better known as Skyline – my entire life. Well, at least as long as I haver been able to drive. While the State’s Highway 35 starts in San Francisco and runs down to Highway 17, along the spine of the San Francisco peninsula mountains,  between San Jose and Santa Cruz, my Skyline runs from Highway 92 between San Mateo and Half Moon Bay, to the Saratoga Gap. The first time I can remember going on this road was with my Grandfather when he took the machine out for a Sunday drive. Some of my most memorable drives were in my MG A, top down in the fog, wearing what was known at that time as a car coat.

As an aside, as an English car, a MG was designed to drive in fog, or cold damp conditions with the top down. The driver and pass anger could sort of snuggle deep down into the bowls, with the heater turned up to melt. An Italian car, like an Alfa Giulietta , was too open. Even with a heavy car coat. End aside.

A couple of days ago, on one of the clearest days we have had in awhile, I drove up to look at the view. After leaving 92 and driving up hill for a little bit , I looked back to see San Francisco in the distance, beyond Crystal Springs lakes, Highway 280, and the Bay. Looking the other way, I saw Highway 92 dropping towards Half Moon Bay.

My plan was to drive down 35 until I got to the old Skeggs Point View turnout and vista point to get some shots of the Peninsula below and the Bay beyond. When I got there, the view was gone.And – evidently – had been gone for a while.

So here is this great view that I remember all the way back to my childhood. It would appear that nobody has thought it worth while keeping the view spot clear enough to see much of anything below. I can understand that; the state is broke and, with what little money there is, I would rather feed homeless children or put it into schools. Except that somebody – I am going to guess the State Highway Department since this is a state highway – is spending money building a worthless new wall. Why not just trim back the bushes, shitcan the new wall and use the saved money on schools. What a shame.

Much of the road with a view, runs through oaks and, while it is pleasant, there is not much of a view.

Towards the end of the day, I came to Russian Ridge and went for a walk. The sun was getting soft and the haze was giving the hills a layered look that I love. here are some samples.