Trip Date: November 13, 2019
Find this SpotSince retirement, our good friend Tom had moved back to San Luis Obispo to settle into his “Golden Years” and it was high time we got together. A trip was put on the calendar and a bunch of us met at the Beach Hut Deli on “J” street to discuss. It was a fantastic lunch as 11 guys showed up and there was much rejoicing. Momentum gained for the trip as many of these guys expressed interest even with a final destination yet unknown. Tom and I exchanged a few emails with possible destinations, taking into consideration a semi-equidistant site, lower elevation, camp fire allowed, etc.
We helped Haley move in with Brett and Pat in the City, and Steve and I headed up to Hart Hill to put in a few water bars on the road to help prevent erosion on the road, so it wasn’t until the week before the trip that Tommy and I finally decided on Millerton Lake, about 15 miles NE of Fresno. The lake is a State Recreation Area (SRA) that was created by the construction of the Friant Dam in 1942, blocking the San Joaquin River, the headwaters of which Bob, Steve, and I camped along last year above Mammoth near Devils Postpile. Thankfully, we are still connecting the dots.
The herd had thinned quite a bit as we approached the date, but we still had 7 guys coming. Bill, Tom, and I would meet on Wednesday, with Kevin and Bob, and Steve and Ken arriving Thursday. After numerous calls, texts, emails, and smoke signals, we decided to meet at Rocky Point campground on the North shore of the lake at 12:30. Life was good. The drive down was easy and smooth. I listened to sports talk all the way, having given up on politics and NPR. The air was a tad thick and gray, but I was on time and on budget as I turned up road 145 to enter the park. As I approached the entrance station, I noticed no one was there, so I just drove through and pulled over at the first sight of the lake.
As I got out of the truck, my eyes and throat burned and I began to cough. The air was atrocious. It had looked bad driving down, but breathing it outside was another matter altogether. I started to cough and had a hard time getting my shit together. This was not going to work. I called Bill just about the time he pulled up behind me. He didn’t react as intensely to the air as I did, but he was not interested in soaking in the pollution soup for the next three days. We tried to rinse it out with a beverage as Tommy pulled up. He too was less than enthused about being immersed in the chemical stew for any length of time, so I pulled out the map and my camping book and went to work. Despite the calls, and emails, and research, and website scanning we had done to check on what campsites were open, allowed fires, charged fees for extra people and cars, how much development was visible, allowed dogs, accepted reservations, etc., we failed to ask if they had breathable air. I will definitely add it to the check list.
We figured we had to get out of the valley, at least 2,000 feet. I remembered that Bass Lake got high marks from my Tom Stienstra camping guide, even though it was surrounded by vacation homes and had a resort atmosphere to it. Googly shows like 13 campgrounds, the book identifies 5, the forest service has another number, and history tells us it is changing all the time. I was able to call the Sierra National Forest supervisors office in Clovis to get advice on where to go to get out of the air pollution. She was able to connect me to a real nice lady at the Bass Lake Ranger District who had one campground open on Bass Lake but not much else to offer. She did transfer me to another lady at the High Sierra District in Prather who had a couple suggested campgrounds that met our MQ’s, but they were a fair piece down forest service roads and with the other guys coming tomorrow, and some of their reticence on driving distance, we crossed them off the list. The lady did say that even though some campgrounds were closed we could still camp at them, which didn’t sound right. She also said that wasn’t true of others that were near current project work, but who were you going to get a definitive answer on that from?
We decided the safe bet was to head to Bass Lake; high enough to be out of the air pollution, an obvious place that would be easy for the boys to find, and with so many campgrounds, some choice for us to find one that best suited our needs. So back we went; down 145 to Road 211 to O’Neill’s, to North Fork Road to Fine Gold and eventually into North Point, which fortunately was the location of the Bass Lake Ranger District. The lady behind the desk didn’t take long to figure out that I was the guy she had talked to before, so we had a good laugh as she showed us the district map. She said that we had a choice of only 1 open campground on the lake, despite showing her the website that showed 3 open campgrounds. It still shows 3 open campgrounds as I write this 2 weeks later.
With the day passing along and the air much easier to breathe, we decided to play it safe and just head for the lake. We drove out of town and following her detailed instructions, pulled into a long line of cars waiting at the road construction site where they were clearing dead and dying trees from all of the insect mortality they have had. The wait probably wasn’t all that long, but it did seem long after all the driving and talking and deciding that had already been done and the arriving, site selection and setting up that still had to occur. It was getting to be a long day. Eventually we got the “all clear”, and road 221 twisted and turned us down off the ridge to the lake. We passed closed campground after closed campground until we finally saw some open gates at Lupine/Cedar Bluff campground. Home at last.
We pulled into the campground and stopped, expecting to see some life from the campground host trailer. There were at least 4 rigs, a golf cart, and a motorcycle parked outside the trailor, so we figured there must be some life form there. After milling about for a while, we decided to drive through the campground and get on with things. There were 6 or so loops in the Lupine campground, and the Cedar Bluff area was closed. Although there was only one occupied campsite (and that turned out to be the extended family of the host) we drove through every loop and inspected a number of sites, before finally settling on perhaps the farthest site away from the entrance in the last loop.
We left Bill to guard our spot while Tom and I drove back to the “Host” trailer. Still no one around, we made the mistake of reading the bulletin board with all the warnings and notices and rules and requirements. Somewhere on the board it said before occupying a site we had to pay at 39900 Road 222, so like 2 morons, off we went down the road looking for addresses, not even knowing in which direction this place was. A mile or so down the road, we came to another resort, this one also closed for the season, with an address not so close to what we were looking for, so with that, we turned around and headed back. We clearly were on our own and only fools tried to follow the rules. As usual, it was a case of do what you need to do and let the cards fall where they may.
We gathered Bill and occupied our 2 sites and began unloading. The exhausting work called for a break and a beverage so we took the opportunity to contact the rest of the crew to let them know the new plan and location. It was near dark before we got set up and quickly got to fire and food. A white Dodge pickup drove the loop and stopped to ask about paying and site selection and such. Letting him know we couldn’t find anybody or any accurate information, we just set up. He thanked us and drove off only to return and set up camp in the closest site to us just across the road. The entire freakin campground and he sets up next to us. Oh well, I am sure he enjoyed our company.
I warmed up some of my chicken thighs I had BBQ’d at home got into some chips, fruit, and snacks, oh and the Manhattans; yes, the Manhattans. Oh my. Food, fire, beverages were all excellent. The weather was great, and although we ended up a stone’s throw from Road 222, there was very little traffic. We could see the lake here and there between the trees. The deer did not seem too concerned with us and we had a gray kitty visitor as well. My bed was excellent and I slept great until the rudeness of the wee hours. Our neighbor decided on an early departure and as most moron campers, he set his stupid fucking useless alarm off. Once awake, I notice the traffic noise was quite substantial. Much heavy equipment, trucks, and massive dumpsters hauling brush and tree residue from all the tree removal. Oh well, time to rise and shine.
The morning was beautiful and after fire and coffee, I headed down to the lake. It was surprisingly close. Just across the road was essentially the shoreline and the water depending on the fullness of the lake. I headed out to a point that has an amphitheatre and got all toasty from the morning sun. I was a little hung, which I hate to get, but the Manhattans were flowing extensively. The coffee, fresh air, sun, and happiness to be out and about drug me out of the fog and into the light. Back at camp, there was talk of heading out for a day trip, possibly into Yosemite which was only an hour or so away. However, before anyone raised any amount of energy, we got a call from Bob saying he and Kevin were in Modesto, only about 2 hours away. We also had heard that Ken and Stevie G had bailed and were going to do their own trip closer to home.
We decided to stay put and wait for Kevin and Bob, so we just relaxed by the fire and got camp organized. Finally the camp “Host” came by and collected our money. She was real nice and friendly and the encounter melted away some of the tension from the day before. We were happy to just hang out and chat and wait for the boys. The time passed quickly and they arrived before we knew it. There was much rejoicing. Kevin brought his little dog Daisy who was very happy to be camping with us and eating our snacks. They got set up and Bill cooked up some burgers for lunch that were very tasty. The afternoon found us mounting up for a stroll along the lake. I showed the boys the amphitheatre and the picnic area before heading further down the shore. Bill, Tom, and I quickly had enough, but Kevin and Bob continued their trek a tad further. The afternoon melted away into evening and appetizers and cocktails. I heated up the second bag of thighs to get us started and Tom BBQ’d a delicious flank steak. Then we heated up a peach pie in the cast iron to make sure we could survive the night.
The morning was real nice. Calm, clear, and warm once the sun got on us. Fire and coffee were excellent. Kevin and Bob generally have more energy than most and they had spoken with a feller yesterday about a hike. They told us about a fire lookout that seemed appealing to us, so Bill, Tom, and I set out to find the lookout. We headed down to the Forks Resort, turned sharp left and headed out Road 426, Crane Valley Road. This brought us up to Road 223, Teaford Saddle Road. Not really seeing anything too promising, we thought we saw some towers on a ridge to the West so we headed down Road 236, Church Ranch Road, which brought us back to Highway 41 and into Oakhurst. Being at this massive intersection of Highway 41 and 49 was very strange; it just wasn’t the kind of setting we had in mind for a camping trip. Nonetheless, we found the visitors’ center that had a nice lady who had a forest service map. The only lookout near us was not so near us nor in the right direction. After carefully considering a tattoo or eyebrow stitching, we headed out of town.
The air quality was again pretty terrible, so we decided it made no sense to get up high as the view would be less than desirable and emphasize the situation. We decided to drive around Bass Lake as we had heard road noise from our camp, but weren’t sure exactly where it was coming from. Further up Highway 41, we turned at Yosemite Forks onto Road 222 at the far North end of the lake. This brought us to the split; Road 222 on the West side, Road 274, Government Un High Road on the East. We drove into the resort center and it was real nice; bar, restaurant, pizza, ice cream, fishing and boating supplies, gifts and keepsakes, all the trimmings of a successful vacation at the lake.
Unfortunately, Road 229A across the dam was closed, so we had to go all the way back into North Fork to get back on 221/222 to get back to camp. It was a fun jaunt. Kevin and Bob returned shortly after we got back and there was much rejoicing. They had a good hike and we shared our tales and soon beverages and snacks and stools were flowing. It was fun to just sit around the fire and relax. Kevin was soon packing up and we were saying goodbye. He was real happy to have made it and it was really fun to have him, especially bringing so much positive energy. We were bummed to see him leave so early, but carry on we must.
About sunset Bob and I grabbed a road cocktail and headed down to the lake. We missed the sunset, but it was real peaceful and calm at the water, even knowing we were surrounded by total development and in the summer this must be a complete zoo. It was great to have such a beautiful setting just steps away. With total darkness at about 6:00 PM, it was time to set our minds to dinner. Bill got some rice and marinated beef heating up, Tommy sautéed some green beans in oyster sauce, we had potato salad and green salad and our bellies filled to the brim. The fire was stoked up and Bill brought out his music box. Tommy pulled out his subscription to every song ever recorded and we were on our way. It is always fun to think of old, rare, obscure tunes and have Tommy try to find them. Bob really got us going on Little Feet, I think it was Waiting for Columbus, that sent him right back to 1977 at Sac State and some very vivid memories of partying with his mates. It was a fantastic night of fantastic tunes and partying around the fire with the boys.
I don’t recall going to bed, but I am sure I woke up in my tent, alone. I had been throwing out the last of the chicken thighs for the kitty and I recall some squalling in the night, but that may have been Bill. I was ready to roll and so was Bob, so we had done some organizing before the show the night before and were in pretty good shape to load up and roll after fire and coffee. We left the last of the small pieces of wood for Bill and Tom as they were going to linger a bit. Bob and I were on the road a little after 9 and rolled out of the foothills onto Highway 41, then 145 into Madera and onto 99 Northwards. We were at Bob’s about noon, after a pit stop for gas, coffee, and relief in Manteca. I don’t remember Bill’s song about how to remember all the valley town’s beginning with “M”, but I am sure Manteca was represented. Thank you Bill.
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