Siri, where are you taking us?

We've all read about the people who blindly follow their GPS out into the wildnerness, only to run out of gas, get stuck, or otherwise find themselves in deep doo-doo.  If you're like me, you probably ask yourself "How could they let that happen?".  Here is one possible scenario:

You're driving to Bend, OR to meet your nephew (let's call him Jordan) for some mountain bike riding.  Bend just happens to have 500 miles of trails within 50 miles of town, so there is plenty to choose from.  Now, it just so happens that you have already put in about 3 hours of riding with Jordan's brother Zane at Sandy Ridge, a mountian bike playground near Mt. Hood (paved road uphill, lots of amazing singletrack choices for the downhill - fantastic riding!).  Since you and the family are a little gassed, you tell Jordan that you want to ride again this evening, but something downhill, preferably with a car shuttle.  No problem, says Jordan.  He'll come up with a plan and let us now.  A little while later he texts with the plan.  He and his buddy want to get a longer ride in, so they'll ride first and meet us part way through the ride.  First red flag, finding someone along the trails you aren't familiar with.  "You have a mountian biking app with the trail info?", he asks.  Why yes we do, the same one he uses, so no worries, right? "Let's meet at the trailhead for Phil's Traverse, he texts.

We fire up the app, Donette types in Phil's Traverse, and Siri starts her magic.  We make it through Bend and are heading out to the West, so all seems OK.  Siri tells us to turn off the highway onto a dirt road.  Hmm, we aren't that far from town; I was expecting a longer downhill.  We inspect the app to double check.  Hmmm, there is a Phil's Traverse Uphill and  Phil's Traverse Downhill.  Siri has been guiding us to the Uphill trailhead.  Surely this can't be right, we don't want to ride uphill anymore today.  We call Jordan to confirm.  "Should we be going to the Uphill trailhead we ask, or the Downhill?"  He gives us the answer we want to here - Downhill!  Yay, punch in the new info, turn around, and head further up the paved road.

"Turn left here" Siri commands.  Are you kidding me, this tiny road?  Red flag #2 - the trailheads in Bend are almost always right off a good sized road with ample parking.  We start driving into the forest.  After a couple of miles of rough, but passable, road,  Siri says turn left again, onto a small double track lane pointing deeper into the woods.  Well, OK, we are meeting them in the middle of a ride, so maybe this is right.  There are bike tracks visible in the dust, so someone has ridden here recently.  The road obviously doesn't see much vehicle use, though.  Our van barely fits beneath the low hanging branches, and we worry about the surfboards strapped to the roof.  As we delve deeper into the forest the road gets tighter, and the overhanging branches get lower.  We squeeze through a couple of downed trees that have been chainsawed to let vehicles through.  We come around a slight bend to find a newly fallen tree blocking the path.  This can't be right, but Siri assures us we are almost there.  We neglected to bring our chainsaw on this trip, but we get out to see what we can do.  It is a small tree, but wedged tightly between some other trees and too big for the three of us to lift, especially with my shoulder injury.  It looks pretty dried out though, so we opt to hook up our tow strap and see if we can snap it in two.

Attaching the tow strap

We attach the tow strap, stand back, and Donette starts backing up.  With a satisfying crack the tree snaps in two, and, most importantly, no one gets injured. 

Success!

 

 

We move the pieces to the side and continue.  Another small road comes in from the side, and Siri announces we have arrived.  Right.  Were sitting in the middle of the forest as the sun is going down, with no other cars or activity in sight.  We get a text from Jordan - "We're here, where are you guys?".  It is now officially a boondoggle.  Cell coverage is spotty, but we manage to get through and figure out that the two parties are nowhere close.  Surprise! Not.  Turns out they are at the trailhead for Phil's Uphill.  "I didn't know you could drive to the top", says Jordan.  He didn't know, because obviously no one ever does it.  But Siri knows how to get there, and if you ask her to take you there, she will. 

We turn around and inch back along the forest roads.  With daylight and motivation both waning,  we decide to just bag the riding and meet at rendevous point number two, La Parilla Grill in Bend, home of many interesting wraps and burrito combos, with local craft brew on tap as well. Highly recommended.  There's plenty of time tomorrow to get some good riding in.

Memorial Day Weekend (mis)Adventures

The hospital in the small town of Mountain Mesa, near Lake Isabella, looks more like a deserted school on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend.  We circle around the building, looking for the emergency entrance.  Donette sees a sign for "admitting" and goes to check it out, but there is no one there.  We continue around the block, and finally see the Emergency entrance in the back.  Parking as close to the doors as we can, I gingerly step down from the van and slowly and hesitatingly walk thru the double doors and down the long, dimly lit corridors.  Rounding a corner, we finally find signs of activity, and a waiting room full of patients. The stone faced young woman at the admitting window hands us stacks of papers to fill out prior to treatment, not caring that I can barely stand at the window, let alone fill out forms. I slump to the floor while Donette rapidly fills out the forms, and scrawl a signature where she indicates.  "Take a seat", says the admitting nurse.  Donette inquires how long it might be, and receives a shrug in reply.  I hobble over to a row of chairs, and slump onto the ground next to one, the only position I've found where the pain is somewhat tolerable.

A few short hours earlier we had launched our kayaks down the Chamise Gorge run on the Upper Kern, my favorite section of the river.  A warming trend had brought the flows up to a very fun level of about 1,000 cfs below the Fairview Dam. Donette and I had been wanting to get on this section all spring, but the timing had just not worked out.  Now we were here with plenty of water and a great group of friends (Brett, Liz, Ryo, Alison, Greg, Geno, Anthea, and John)  to boat it with.

Donette in Airplane Turn

Donette and I both enjoyed the run as we refamiliarized ourselves with the rapids.  Due to the ongoing drought in California, there hadn't been enough water to run this section in 2015, so this was our first time down in 2 years.  We both had good lines and felt pretty relaxed and confident in our boats.  As we approached the last rapid, Gangbang, there was some discussion on whether there was enough water to skirt the last rock in the rapid on both the left and the traditional right side. The consensus was that both sides would go.  Just stay away from the rock in the center, our friends warned.  It's "bad".  Now "bad" isn't a very detailed description, but it was certainly sufficient for me to want to do my best to avoid said rock. However, just for kicks, let's take a look at what "bad" means in this particular case.  Below is a picture looking upstream at a lower flow.  The current pushes pretty strongly into the large rock in the center, and right below it sits another flat rock with a crescent shaped cut-out on one side.  At Saturday's flows, the water poured over the large rock and covered the flat work as well, obscuring it from sight. I think that most boaters would agree that bad is an accurate description of this rock, and staying clear is well advised.

 

I started down the right side of the river, intending to stay well away from the "bad" rock. However, I underestimated the push of the river to center.  As I punched through a couple of holes above the rock I found myself heading straight towards the rock.  I turned and paddled hard towards the right, but it was apparent I wasn't going to clear it.  Not being aware of the flat rock lurking below, my only concern was dropping into the hole below the rock. As I washed over the rock and eyed the hole below, I felt myself get bashed into an unseen rock, absorbing the entire impact on my left bicep area.  I had hit the very edge of the flat rock below. The impact was vicious, and knocked me upside down in mid air, and I eyed the hole apprehensively as I fell into it updside down.  My arm hurt tremendously, and I remember thinking hoping that I would flush through the hole, as swimming in a recirculating hole with an injured arm would not be fun.  I held my breath, felt the boat toss a bit in the hole, and then felt it flush free.  I rolled up and felt a fresh stab of pain in my arm.  Luckily, I came up in an eddy, and as I attempted to paddle to shore it became apparent that my left arm was not going to be a part of the process.  Liz saw my cumbersome attempt to paddle to shore one handed and zipped over to help pull my boat ashore.  Thankfully, we were right at the takeout. Liz and Geno helped me from my boat and did a quick medical assessment. It was soon apparent that my left shoulder was no longer in its socket.  We decided to try reducing it right away, as both Liz and Geno knew the procedure.  However, we were also unsure if there were other injuries inside, so didn't want to pull too vigorously.  Liz gave it a couple of tries, and when it did not go easily back into place we opted for a trip to the hospital.  Donette ran to get our van while everyone else graciously carried all my gear up to the parking lot.  Knowing that medical personal are often quite unsympathetic to the cost of outdoor gear, and more than willing to quickly employ the scissors to remove it, we used the time waiting for Donette to gingerly remove my dry top.  The minor increase in pain was well worth the successful attempt.  Our friends loaded our boats in the van and gave us directions to the nearest hospital, close to an hour away, and off we went.

After 45 minutes or so in the hospital waiting room, with no sign of a doctor or a nurse, we began to ask the other patients how long they had been waiting.  A man with a painful looking hand injury said he waited 2.5 hours to get x-rays and pain meds, and had been waiting another 1.5 hours since then to see the one and only doctor on staff.  The other patients told similar tales.  It was another hours drive to Bakersfield, but the general consensus was that we would get better care there.  Donette brought the van around and helped me back inside.  I slumped on the floor in back, unable to sit in a seat.  Traffic was light and we made good time to Bakersfield.  We drove up to San Joaquin Community Hospital, arriving about 4:15.  My arm had been dislocated for three hours now,  and the pain was getting more intense as time went by.

As we walked through the doors the scene was what you would expect at a big city emergency room on a holiday weekend. The waiting room was packed, and doctors and nurses hurried to and fro. We found the triage station and got in line.  We had only been in line for a few seconds before we were approached by a nurse, who could obviously tell I was in serious pain. She immediately pulled me to an open admitting window, we did a brief amount of paperwork, and within a few minutes I was being evaluated by a doctor.  He concurred with our assessment of the injury, and moments later I was receiving a welcome dose of pain killers.  All of the staff were caring and competent, and Donette and I both knew we had made the right decision to make the extra drive.

Ahh, back in place!

It still took several hours to get the x-rays taken, wait for the radiologist to read them, get an open bed, and finally, about 7:15, get my arm put back in place.
Then another hour to wait for the follow up x-rays and discharge paperwork.  We finally left the hospital at 9:45, with my arm in a sling, a prescription for painkillers, and directions to the closest brew pub.  My arm did not really hurt anymore, which we attributed to pain meds from the hospital still coursing through my veins. After burgers and brews, we headed back towards Kernville, looking for a place to spend the night.  There was no thought of returning home.  Even though my boating was over for a few weeks, Donette was healthy and able and had a good crew ready to go the next two days.

Donette enjoyed two more days of boating with excellent flows and great friends, while I drove shuttle, took some photos, and kept Luna company in the van.  We had a nice potluck at Brett and Liz's Sunday night and enjoyed Liz's homemade lasagnas.   I was bummed to not only be missing the boating this weekend, but also to miss the rest of the season on the Upper Kern.  However, I also know it could have been much worse, and was thankful for the help and support from all our boating friends.  Below are a few pictures from Sunday and Monday's runs. Click on any picture for an enlarged version.

John entering Airplane Turn

Liz eyes her line

Dennis gets a faceful of water

Getting busy in Hairy Ferry

Jeff boofs to a surprise rock in the landing zone

Brett shows how to avoid the rock

Donette somewhere on the Cable run

John

Anthea

Ben

Donette flirts with the same rock that did me in, but slides perfectly into the correct line.

My boat didn't see much action over the weekend, but it became Luna's favorite place to hang out

Camping with Luna

And we are not talking about the full moon.  A few months ago we adopted a cat that our friends had rescued.  Knowing that we are planning to take extended road trips in the not too distant future, we decided that we would attempt to "train" her to come along. Now we all know that you can't really train a cat to do anything she doesn't want to do, so I will be the first to admit that we merely lucked out in getting a cat that doesn't mind traveling.

I started out just taking her to work with me.  She doesn't exactly go running to get in the car in the morning, but once inside she just curls up and sleeps or watches the world go by.

At the office, she has the best view in the house

Once we got the Sportsmobile, we started putting her inside while it was in the driveway.  At first she just hopped out immediately, but since she likes to be around us, and we are often out tinkering with the van, she soon decided it was an OK place to hang out.  We then progressed to taking her on local trips - mountain biking, grocery shopping, etc.  Fortunately, she shows no propensity for trying to get out of the van when the doors are open.  We can leave them open while we unload bikes and get ready to go, and she just hops into the vacated passenger seat and goes to sleep.

With the Kern River flowing at the highest rate in years, we were itching to go kayaking.  However, our weekends have been busy with work and home commitments, so we haven't been able to get away for a while. We finally decided to just blast up there for a weekday excursion. While weekends at the Kern are bustling with boaters, we knew from past experience that we would probably be on our own mid-week, so we loaded up the shuttle bicycle along with the kayaks, and we managed to get it all inside.  We figured that this quick one night adventure would also be a great time to try taking Luna on an overnight trip.

Luna promptly made herself at home on the dinette. We arrived at one of our favorite campsites along the Upper Kern around 10 pm.  As we shut off the engine and opened the doors, we were welcomed by the sound of rushing water, something we haven't heard for some time.  Luna cautiously hopped out of the van, and was then eager to explore her surroundings.  We let her walk around a bit, but kept close to her, not knowing how far she would go if left unattended.

The next morning we put on her harness, leash, and a fairly long rope.  Luna doesn't mind wearing the harness, but she is not a fan of the leash.  Once we clip it to the harness, she usually just lays down and refuses to move.  Today, however, she decided it was OK and began exploring to the extent the rope would let her.  Once she reached the end, she laid in the dirt and enjoyed the sun.

With the cat situation seemingly under control, we turned our attention to making breakfast.  A few minutes later we looked outside to see the empty harness lying in the road.  The skittering sounds of small creatures dashing amongst the leaves and grass just out of her reach proved too irresistable, and she managed to slither out of the harness and go exploring. We had anticipated such a calamity, and bought a Pebblebee bluetooth tag, a little gizmo you can attach to things you are prone to losing, such as your keys, and then use your cellphone to find them.  With the Pebblebee attached to her collar we thought we would be able to track her down.  The range is pretty limited, but it led us to her general area, and she actually responded to our calls.  After tightening the harness, we tried again and foiled her attempts at escaping.

Eventually we headed off to the river.  Sure enough, it was deserted, with very little traffic on the road either, so the likelihood of hitching a shuttle ride was slim.  We opted for a couple of laps on the Fairview section, a fun but short Class 3 section.  It allowed for a quick bicycle shuttle, was a section we were comfortable running with just the two of us, and we were able to do two laps and still be on the road in time to get home and make dinner for Weston.

Fresh Snow in April

We decided that the first trip in the new Sportsmobile would be a spring backcountry ski trip to the Eastside of the Sierra.  We chose the Onion Valley area, as it is one of the closest high altitude (9,200') trailheads.  We left town Friday night with a spring storm moving in.  The winds in the Central Valley were stirring up the freshly plowed fields, and dust reduced the visibility to less than a mile.  Frequent gusts would sometimes reduce it even further, completely obscuring the car ahead.   As we climbed the Tehachapi pass we left the dust behind, but as we turned north at Mojave our beneficial tailwind turned into a challenging crosswind.  The Sprinter has a 'crosswind assist' feature that helps keep you on the road and upright, and we felt it kick in several times.  We passed a big rig driver who wasn't so lucky, as his truck and trailer had blown over onto its side and slid down the freeway.  We forged ahead, driving slowly with both hands on the wheel, knowing that the winds were not as strong just a few miles ahead.

Snow and freezing rain began falling as we drove up the Onion Valley Road out of Independence.  We reached the end of the road about 10 PM.  The wind was still howling, it was freezing cold outside, and there was a dusting of snow all around.  What a luxury to not have to get out and set up a tent!  Instead, we parked, shut down the engine, walked into the back, fired up the heater, poured a couple of margaritas, and crawled into bed.  The entire experience seemed surreal.

We awoke Saturday morning to find everything coated in a slippery covering of rime ice.  With the wind still blowing, we weren't in any hurry to get going.  After a leisurely breakfast and organizing gear, we hit the trail about 9:30.  Our objective was to get up high on the slopes below University Peak and see what skiing we could find.  We had hoped for some good spring corn skiing, but with the wind and snow the night before we didn't know what to expect.

 There is very little snow at the trailhead for this time of year.

 We strapped our skis onto our backs and started hiking up the Kearsarge Pass trail.

 It wasn't too long before we could put on our skis and beginning skinning up.  University Peak (13,600') towers in the background.  We had no aspirations of summitting after such a late start, and the normally snow-filled gulley dropping down the North side of the peak had lots of bare spots anyway.

There were still bare spots at over 11,000'

 After a few hours of climbing we decided to drop into a trackless chute.  It was full of wind blown snow from the previous nights storm, but it also had several hours of April sun on it.  It was pretty heavy with breakable crust, challenging but skiable

 Donette laying down some tracks

 It was still early, so after a lunch break we headed back up for some more.  We set our sights on the high point of snow below the large cliffs just above Donette.

 We topped out at about 11,800'  The snow was a little better here, but still quite variable.  Donette generates some rooster tails in the lighter sections.

 We continued our descent, heading back to the van.

 Even if the snow wasn't perfect, the views always are.

 The lakes are thawing quickly, but still firm enough to cross.  We got back to camp about 3, thoroughly exhausted.  We enjoyed the late afternoon sunshine, and moved back into the van after the sun set and the temperatures dropped.  We set the alarm for an earlier start on Sunday, aiming for a steep gully on an unnamed peak rising above camp.

Sunday morning dawned sunny and clear.  We left camp shortly after 7 and  climbed straight up the snow filled gully.  Conditions were pretty good, and as the morning went by the skies got grayer and grayer.  We didn't mind though, as the lack of sunshine was preserving the snow.

 After climbing about 2,500' from camp, the snow finally petered out at the crest of the ridge. 

We dropped our skis and clambered to the top.  The clouds were now down below the tops of the surrounding peaks, and light snow was beginning to fall.  We retreated back to our skis, pulled our skins, and dropped into the gulley.  We were rewarded by surprisingly good boot deep powder for the first 1,000'.  The further we dropped, the heavier the snow became.  However, it was much easier skiing than the previous day, probably because we were heading back at 11 am instead of 3 pm.

Back at the van we threw our gear inside and hit the road.  It was our first trip to the Eastside of the Sierra in several years, and it felt great to get back into the high peaks again. We just hope that we can get back to a 'normal' snowpack again one of these years.

It's here! - The New Adventure-mobile has arrived

The old Toyota Tacoma has been a great truck, but it is time for an upgrade.  After more than a year of planning, designing, ordering, and lots and lots of waiting, it's finally here!  What is it, you ask?  It is a 2016 Mercedes-Benz Sprinter 4x4 van with a camper conversion by Sportsmobile.  3.0L turbo diesel, dual range 4WD, solar panels for sustained off the grid camping.  Places to stow the bikes, skis, and other toys safely inside.  Furnace, hot water, exterior shower - full on luxury!

We got the regular body van, the shortest one.  Plenty roomy but still small enough to easily drive around town.  The 4x4 model sits about 5" higher than the 2WD

We have a platform bed with storage underneath.  L track on the floor accommodates bike fork mounts. Shower fitting on the left, just plug in the hose for a hot shower.  Long cabinet on the right for skis, etc.

Heavy duty rubberized coating on all surfaces in the back.

We added seat swivels and custom sheepskin seat covers

Kenwood Excelon stereo unit with Apple Play allows for navigation, music, and many other functions right from your phone.  Also a backup camera display when in reverse.  We added an amp and upgraded all the speakers as well.

Full length awning over the siding door.

Dinette seat that fold out into a bed for the kids, and grandkids someday.  Microwave oven just visible in the upper right.  Lots of windows so it's nice and bright.

Platform bed is a regular double bed size.  Overhead storage bins on both sides.

We have 2 100 amp solar panels on the roof.  Here is the electronics monitoring station.  Inverter for 110 v AC power, Espar diesel powered hydronic furnace and water heater

Galley on the door side, with storage and refrigerator below.

Rearward view

Fold down table allows for cooking outdoors.  Refrigerator is accessible from indoors or out.