Trip Date: October 9, 2015
Find this SpotThis trip is just too rich to go into lengthy details and descriptions. I will make an effort to be brief and succinct. I may fail.
This was the Friday before Kristen and I were going on a weeklong trip of our own, leaving Monday, part camping and part cabins, but some preparation and packing would definitely be needed. Nonetheless, the boys were going on a trip and I wanted to come along, so off we went.
I was scheduled for a CT scan Friday morning at 9:00 as a follow up to a bout of Diverticulitis I had several weeks ago. I was not sure how long this would take, but my expectation was that I would be called in to the room at my scheduled appointment time, the procedure would be short and quick, and I would be out in no time at all. My wife came along just in case my vision did not materialize or for some reason I could not drive home. My vision did not entirely come to be, but it was close enough. I learned my lesson from last time and wore underwear so that was a big improvement, and I didn’t need to drink a gallon of sauce this time either – they just shot it into my veins – taking the more direct route.
I had taken some time each of the previous 2 or 3 nights to gather and organize my camping stuff and food stuffs that I would bring for this one night trip, so I was in pretty good shape when I got home about 10:30. Bill pulled out at the last minute, and Tom couldn’t get out of work until the afternoon, so it was just Ken, Bob, and I. Bob picked up Ken and were on their way to my place shortly after I got home. I had all my crap in the truck by the time they arrived and after a brief tour of the garden and homestead, we were on our way.
We had wanted to get this trip in in early October because Tom was having his hip replaced mid-month, so we wanted one more trip before he went down for a while. The temperatures were still unseasonably warm, so we wanted to get up high in the mountains. Expecting the fire restrictions to be in place, we headed for a campground so we could have a fire and decided that we would try to expulse some of the demons from the last time we went up to Grouse Ridge, and it being known country to make it easy to meet up with Tom later, we decided that was our destination.
Briefly, in a nutshell, the last time we went to Grouse Ridge: Ken and Dave couldn’t find the end of the road at which the rest of us were camped and instead headed to some very confined quarters for their own rendezvous; the rest of the boys got so wasted that a boombox was held overhead a naked body up to knees in the lake blaring Prince’s Purple Rain to the campground across the lake; on return drive from lake to camp, the pounding was so intense a tire blew out and then the rim cracked before we were sure we were going too fast; a walk of a mile or so down the dirt road to the paved one and another mile or so down the pavement yielded a good Samaritan to drive us another couple miles to the turnoff to the road up to our lookout campsite; another mile or so hike up that road, we finally wondered why we were carrying all these provisions we had taken from the truck some three hours ago; another good Samaritan picked up Bob to drive him to the top to get his rig; another vehicle with people lower than a toad stopped to talk to Jerry but left him in the pitch black darkness and a cloud of dust, even though his age, weight, and alcohol 
intake had obviously taken its toll and he was badly in need of help; Bob arrived in his rig and picked us all up and brought us back to the ridge top camp; Jerry still feeling the outdoorsman oath had been badly violated called out to the young boys from SF in the campground; the youngsters taking the bait were then rudely, loudly and violently railed against for the next 10 minutes or so being exposed to all sorts of foul language and vulgar threats to all parts and pieces of their bodies; either from exhaustion or unconsciousness, the screaming at the campground ended shortly before midnight, and the boys finally were back at their ridgetop camp; somehow the next morning cell reception was attained, directions to a tow truck driver were provided, it showed up and towed said vehicle away. I assume we had enough rigs to distribute people and gear for the rest of us to get home, as Ken and Dave were not heard from until well down the hill the next day. Many questions remain of that trip, but I think we were all glad to be going back, even though we were missing Dave and Bill.
With this tapestry as our backdrop, we hurried up 80, 20, Bowman lakes road to the top of the hill. Kenny was still befuddled how he and David could both have missed the end of the road, despite their exhaustive effort to find the rest of the boys. We stopped for a break and a beverage at the bridge over the South Yuba, choosing not to walk down to the swimming hole. We were a bit apprehensive about getting up to the campground to see what sites were available because, even though the fire restrictions had been lifted, we knew options outside of the campground were limited, and we didn’t want to take a chance on losing Tom to the same void that swallowed up Ken and Dave.
Fortunately, there was only one other person in the campground, and we snagged a great spot at the end of the loop with a pretty decent view and only one other site nearby. We unloaded and haphazardly set up, alternating with wandering about, eating, drinking and general tomfoolery. Once we were unpacked, we packed, we brought a few odds and ends to the other site just to give the impression it too was occupied. Before long, Tom appeared on the horizon and we were complete. He occupied the other site and in short order, he was set up and we were ready for Manhattan’s.
With a glass in hand, we ascended the last 100 yards to the crest, the site of our prior camp, and enjoyed another viewing of the greatest show on earth – a mountain sunset. Back at camp, we refilled our glasses and got the fire, hors d’ vors, and dinner preparations underway. The lighting was magnificent up so high, air clean and fresh, and very quiet for being in a campground. A certain one of us had a tiny bit of a candy bar and was crushed moments later; clinging to the edge of the table for balance and any semblance of standing on his own power. The tunes were exceptional if I do say so myself, but my legs were like concrete and even a cream filled pastry couldn’t persuade me to join Bob and Tom to hike to the fire lookout.
Morning came; all were where they should be as far as I could tell. Ken seemed to have been up for hours, but no fire and no coffee had been made. Soon both were in great supply and the boys had gathered to tell their tales. There was much lounging about, until a call for a hunt for the wagon tracks rang out. This lasted at least 30 minutes, alas no wagon wheel ruts were found and the boys returned to camp exhausted mentally and physically. I would have felt very silly if I had gone to this place twice and still not made it up to the fire lookout, so we mounted another trek up to the lookout. The views were well worth the price of admission although we may have caused massive interruptus for the young couple up on the deck of the lookout. It brought back fond memories.
The easy hike up to the lookout paid off in awesome views. The air was really clear – especially since we had very poor air quality in the recent past from the fires. I was happy to now have been up to the lookout and we were soon back at camp. Motivation was lacking and there was a fairly lengthy period of sitting about. We slowly got to packing up and consolidating bins and containers and were soon ready to roll, feeling like many of the unsettled ghosts of trips past had been put to rest. Alas, as I suspected, I had run my battery down to nothing with the extensive albeit outstanding tunes that had played all afternoon and evening. Tom was quick to my aid with battery cables and a fresh charge.
We rolled down the bumpy road to pavement and then down Bowman lakes to 20. At that point, Kenny was able to extricate himself from Tom’s rig and he rejoined Bob and I for the last leg home. We were back in town by 5:00 or so, just in time for playoff baseball and a little organizing for the coming trip.
Find this Spot
Grouse Ridge Campground Photo Gallery
