Author: Easin' Along

After a fun-filled few days in Lake Tahoe, it was time to return to the California coast. Our destination was Pomo Campground in Fort Bragg, California, a small beach town north of Mendocino. The drive was a long one—over six hours, and we were ready to relax during the two full days of this leg of our trip.

Helen and I camped at Pomo last summer and had a great experience. For a small town, Fort Bragg offered much to the summer tourist population. Nevertheless, we were ready for some downtime. We planned to do little except visit the Botanical Garden, catch up on laundry, and stroll casually on the bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean while waiting for the laundry to dry. I don’t know how we could make things more exciting.

When we visited the Botanical Garden last summer, the Dahlias and summer annuals were in full bloom. Unfortunately, this year, we arrived too early to get a repeat performance of that dazzling display, but the incredible roses put on a show almost as spectacular. The garden covers several acres above the ocean and offers visitors many trails lined with colorful blooms on each side. The highlight of the visit was the number and varieties of Rhododendrons that thrived in the cool spray coming off the Pacific.

We used the rest of Day One to pour through our email, organize the ever-growing volume of photographs I had on my MacBook, and deep-clean Dora—details that we placed on hold until now. We needed this break. Day Two was laundry day, and Pomo Campground has an excellent laundry facility. The weather was too pretty to wait for the dryer to finish. Instead, we used the time to walk on the trail above the ocean.

Waves crashing on the rocks fascinate me, and I love trying to capture the image with my camera. I pushed the shutter speed to 1/1000th sec to freeze the action and managed to record several big splashes. In addition to the waves, the ice plant growing wild on the bluff added plenty of color to the scene.

I don’t have much more to add to this post—this is an R&R stop, after all. Thanks for Easin’ Along with us and helping with our laundry. Please come back next week as we visit Klamath, California, and Redwood National Park. The massive Redwoods are something to see.

Helen and I drove north from Yosemite National Park to Lake Tahoe, located on the borders of California and Nevada.  Tahoe Valley Campground is our home for the next five days. This campground has close to four hundred campsites, and we joined just as many campers for the Memorial Day weekend.

When we arrived, the campground was sparsely populated; when we left, it was packed. Tightly spaced campsites allowed us the opportunity to meet many of our neighbors, most of them from California. The campers to our left came from Sacramento, joined by four or five of their friends towing travel trailers.  They had a lot of fun over the next few days, and Happy Hour was a lively event each afternoon.

The main attraction in Lake Tahoe is the Lake itself. The Emerald Blue water is staggeringly beautiful, and my camera got a workout because I took pictures of it at every opportunity. I’m not confident that I captured an image that accurately represents the beauty of the water, but I gave it my best.

We planned two activities during our visit. First, a friend recommended we hike to Cascade Falls, which sounded like something we could handle. Second, Helen’s former boss at The Webb School now lived in nearby Reno, Nevada, and we hoped to meet up with him and his wife. If we accomplished both, we planned to try our luck in the Casino.

The trail to Cascade Falls, rated as moderate, was anything but that. I don’t know who ranks hiking trails, but this trail needs a reassessment. Cascade Falls Trail presented quite a challenge to two high-mileage septuagenarians sporting replaced body parts. Large boulders and steep inclines made for some strenuous walking, especially for Helen.  At one point, she needed the help of two other hikers and me to climb over a big rock in our path.  Determined to drive on, she met the challenge and maintained that ever-present smile to the Falls and back.

The scenery along the trail more than made up for any difficulties we encountered. The streams, the birds, and the snow-capped peaks in the distance rewarded us handsomely for our efforts. The round-trip covered about four miles.  We slept well that night.

Jay and Wendy agreed to meet us the next day at Sand Harbor State Park for some sightseeing and the opportunity to catch up after several years of separation. It was good to see them again, and happy to hear that they are returning to Tennessee at the end of the school year. Helen and I understand the desire to return, but we’re biased.

Sand Harbor offered a different view of Lake Tahoe, and I took a lot of pictures.  The weather was perfect–probably the best on our trip so far. Jay and Wendy walked with us to some observation points to give us several different views.

On our last full day, we decided to drive the 75-mile shoreline around Lake Tahoe.  Tahoe Valley Campground is in South Lake Tahoe, and we wanted to visit North Lake Tahoe while we had the opportunity.  The drive took over an hour, and we ended the trip at Emerald Bay. Stunning is the word I use to describe the scene in front of us. 

Lake Tahoe, the largest Alpine Lake in North America, is 1,645 feet deep and 22 miles long.  Only Crater Lake is deeper. In some places, objects are visible at depths of over 70 feet because the water is so clear. That blue water is cold also, hardly ever rising above 60 degrees. Despite the cold, I observed swimmers, boaters, and para-sailers on the water.

Eventually, we got around to visiting the Casino.  I’ll leave it at that.  It’s time to be Easin’ Along. Please join us next week when we return to the California coast.

Yosemite National Park is one of America’s great treasures. Nevertheless, it took almost a year for us to witness this gem on our own. Read on, and you will see what I mean.

Last summer, in the middle of the COVID pandemic, Helen and I had made campground reservations at Yosemite Pines RV Park and eagerly looked forward to being there. But, unfortunately, mother Nature had other plans. About two weeks before our scheduled arrival date, we received an email informing us that the campground operator had canceled our reservations due to the wildfires raging in the park. So we said prayers for the folks living nearby and scrambled for a reservation somewhere–anywhere.

This year, we again booked Yosemite Pines for a second attempt at entering the park. Several friends and fellow bloggers alerted us that we needed entry passes for Yosemite. Helen and I both did some research, and we each swear to this day the information we found said we needed to make reservations on the morning of our arrival. Not so.

As she usually does when we arrive at a new campground, Helen talks to everyone around to learn what we should see and do. She also spoke with the campground manager, who informed her that reservations opened on our arrival date and were filling up fast. We panicked and, sure enough, discovered that the next available passes were for the day of our scheduled departure from Yosemite.

Not easily discouraged, we drove to the Big Oak Flat entry gate the following day, hoping to persuade some sympathetic park official to allow us entry. At the check-in point, a young park ranger asked if we had a pass. We told her that we missed the application deadline, but surely, she could help us out. She shook her head. I assumed that meant “no.”

Helen then went into her best begging mode. She rattled off the following:

1. “The fires stopped us last year – please let us in!”
2. “We drove all the way from Tennessee – please let us in!”
3. “We’re retired military, AARP members, NP Senior Pass holders – you HAVE to let us in!”

The young ranger stared straight at us with steely, cold eyes and held her ground. “Uh-uh,” came the reply. I can’t fault her, she didn’t create the policy, she was merely doing her job. By this time, I was ready to return to the campground, hitch up Dora, and move on. Instead, Helen asked if she would allow us to drive 100 yards to the Visitor Center. Ranger Rhonda relented. 

We made the same pleas at the Visitor Center to anyone who would listen, but with no luck. We did learn that we could book passage into the park on a shuttle bus that would take us into Yosemite Valley, but we should hurry because the shuttle was filling up fast. The only day available was on Monday, our last full day. We purchased tickets online.

The Rangers in the Visitor Center suggested that we also visit the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, an area within the park that did not require an entry pass. So we thanked them and drove through some very scenic countryside to the parking area at the Hetch Hetchy Dam. Once there, we hiked to the overlooks on each side of the dam. A lovely waterfall across the reservoir was discharging the melting snowpack from the mountains above. Water used to generate power spewed from a large aqueduct below the dam. We enjoyed the chance to stretch our legs and felt a little better after our rejection at the gate to Yosemite.

Our next day, a Sunday, offered a few options to keep us entertained while we waited for Monday and our bus trip. First, we spent some time people-watching in the campground. A couple in the campsite behind us had two massive Great Danes that somehow fit into their small-ish travel trailer. Next, Helen put the last piece into the puzzle she had worked on since we left home. I read my book. Finally, we spent a few hours watching Phil Mickelson win the PGA Championship. 

Before all of the above, we drove into Groveland, CA, about three miles from the campground. Groveland, a one-stoplight town, is charming in an old west kind of way. The town boasts of having the oldest saloon in the State of California. A Bingo Hall appeared to be the only other form of entertainment available. We spent about thirty minutes walking both sides off the street, then went to buy gas. I couldn’t take much more of the excitement.

On Monday, we drove to the bus stop at Big Oak Flat and boarded the bus for the 24-mile trip to the Village in Yosemite Valley. From there, we spent the next three hours hiking to Yosemite Falls and along the walkways through the low meadow near the village. Yosemite is beautiful, and I enjoyed taking pictures of both the Lower and Upper Yosemite Falls and everything else in front of us.

To add a bit of irony to our visit after last summer’s flame-out, the park staff had initiated a controlled burn throughout the Valley. As a result, heavy smoke wafted through the Valley at times and obliterated our views until the wind shifted. I waited patiently for the smoke to clear to capture some images of at least a few points of interest. At times, the smoke added a touch of drama to the pictures. 

To amuse me and to bring out my best Ansel Adams impersonation, I took a few pictures in Sepia. I have shared them here. 

Although we waited longer than we wanted to get into Yosemite, we agree that our patience paid off. Yosemite is beautiful and rightfully holds a position as one of America’s oldest and most-visited National Parks. We were smitten as soon as we got off the bus. I hope that the word gets out about the reservation policy so that others can visit without the problems we faced.  

When we inquired into the reason for the reservation policy, COVID received the blame. My personal opinion is that the change had everything to do with crowd control and little to do with COVID. I suspect that our most popular parks will implement similar reservation systems soon. Glacier and Acadia National Parks have done so already. 

Helen and I encourage everyone to get out and enjoy the National and State Parks after a year like we just went through. The fresh air and exercise will cure almost anything that ails you. In most places, you can leave that mask in your pocket…what a blessing! 

We’re Easin’ Along.