I have known of Death Valley NP, Mt Whitney, Badwater 135, in theory for some time. I did not know the definition of an endorheic basin, which of course is what Badwater Basin is, or the prominence of the Sierras in relation to the Alabama Hills area. This was a trip to visit those places.
Again, the confluence of Super Bowl, WM Open and King of the Hammers makes for a particularly enticing weekend to camp. I feel I have raised up my daughters well when one of them asks “Hey Dad, wanna go camping over SB weekend?” - Ha! Is coffee the perfect morning activity?
She made the itinerary, and we decided to meet at the Eastern Sierra Visitor Center. We arrived from different routes (isn’t that what the offspring do?) within about 15 minutes of each other. Then I had a most delightful weekend comprised of campfires, conversations and coffee. As Justin Moore sings - Make a memory, not just money….time’s a ticking…Put a little slow in your roll, or you’re gonna miss it.
A group chat comment about the seductive nature of campfires led to an invitation to run a trail, stare into a campfire and find some stars to sleep under.
The invitation started the incubation of Steinbeck’s “virus of restlessness” and soon yep, “a good and sufficient reason for going” emerged.
Since the days were relatively short mileage wise, we found a campsite mid-afternoon and started the campfire and dinner. Once the crackle of the fire starts conversation generally flows easily. Previously taken backpacks, truck mods, life plans, all the things that make sitting around a campfire worthy of repetition.
A quick weekend run, checking out a little railroad era history and a survey of Arizona flora over about 70 miles. One of the places we passed on the second day was Palace Station. According to the Prescott Western Heritage Foundation, the first automobiles traveled the Senator Highway in about 1910. The trail isn’t technical, OnX rates it 4/10 depending on run-off but with aired down tires, mild suspension mods and modern suspension geometry, I can’t imagine 1910’s automobiles using that “road”.
The plan was to end the route at Park Plaza Liquor, since they have truly amazing mac n cheese. Yes, the mac n cheese is worthy of a drive, especially the Hatch mac n cheese.
It’s just a reminder to keep making memories and keep staring into campfires.
Just a small build related update after a few days out using the equipment.
As I have mentioned, I have numerous Ryobi batteries, from before the days of “Tool Only”. In fact one Christmas I sent a photo of all the batteries I had to a friend and let him know I told my wife I needed an intervention - don’t let me purchase any more Ryobi batteries! Anyway, I had the Ryobi inflator and it worked so well, and yes, the great orange enabler (Home Depot) had a sale, and yes, we all know 1 is none and 2 is one - so for $19 I picked up another inflator. That led me down the path of….well, instead of getting out my compressor to air up - why not take along my two Ryobi inflators and use the batteries/charger unit to air up 2 tires at once? Why indeed.
TLDR - it worked swimmingly well for a stock tire size rig. Set the pressure, attach, walk away to set the next tire, go back get the one that has arrived at pressure and move to a new tire. You see the pattern.
My last post had the admonition to keep staring into campfires, we did, 3 nights in fact. It was glorious.
We did a couple of community meals, some beyond amazing tacos and a Dutch oven chicken tajine - even though I did substitute marinated artichoke hearts for the preserved lemons traditionally used. Trader Joe’s for the first time ever let me down - they were out of the preserved lemons.
If you need an excuse to get out more - please, tell your doctor to read this study!
Maybe I’m trying to channel my inner Tom Bodett and come up with a mantra to the effect of “keep staring into campfires”. If you’re younger than 50, do a search of Tom Bodett and Motel 6, and just listen to the soothing voice - you’ll be convinced. Oh and for those about to bring up the lawsuit, he started those commercials in 1986, back when I was wearing parachute pants and Motley Crue Theatre of Pain was in full swing.
