"Beam me up, Scotty!"

Fossil Falls is pretty darn amazing, but you do need to like rocks A LOT.  This landscape is volcano country formed 400,000 years ago.  Just a mere 12,000 years ago, this spot was an oasis of lakes filled with glacier-fed water.  Native people thrived here until 3,000 years ago, as evidenced by the many grinding holes and obsidian artifacts.

For me to thrive here requires morning coffee and a down bag.  The sunrise was worth the chill.

A morning stroll brings us to the Fossil Falls, a moon-like landscape that had to be the perfect set for some Star Trek episode, where Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are transported to a rocky planet.  "Beam me up, Scotty!", just as alien forces round the bend.

Or perhaps Planet Krypton in a Superman remake. The black rocks are water-polished and carved into smooth, strange shapes.

We peer over the steep rock divides and John tries to figure out a path to the bottom.  He has no followers.

Our last morning on our desert odyssey.  It is time to head west, wind again through Arvin, stop for Mexican food and pastries, and head back to SLO.  We are four people without showers in five days, a dusty, dirty van, and stories to tell.  We feel blessed by the companionship and adventure and glad we are not yet too old or tied-down to venture out into the California wilderness!

"What's your Sign?"

Passing Gene Autry on the streets of Lone Pine?  Serenaded by Singing Cowboys?  Roy Rogers and Dale Evans in the coffee shop?  Twilight Zone music cuing up?  Little did we know that Lone Pine played host to decades of Hollywood movie casts who arrived to build fake gold rush towns, bandit hideouts, and galactic landscapes in the Alabama hills that separate the valley from the high Sierra peaks looming to the west.

Whether standing in for a far-off planet, Afghanistan, or Oklahoma, the unique rock formations of the Alabama Hills have been featured in hundreds of movies.  Remember the Lone Ranger speeding across the desert on Silver?  Alabama Hills!

So it makes some sense that Lone Pine has a 50's vibe that is especially anchored by it's main street, peppered with large painted metal neon signs. My favorite, the Merry Go Round, now tops a Chinese Restaurant.  The sign seems lifted right from vintage Hollywood Blvd.

We stop into the Alabama Hills Cafe for an old-fashioned diner breakfast.  The Cafe is a favorite (according to Yelp) with Mt. Whitney hikers who are celebrating their 21-mile ascent to the highest peak in the continental US.  Plates piled high with egg scrambles and pan fried potatoes are expertly slung by sassy waitresses.  

The gigantic trout illuminated in the Sporting Goods sign hails back to a day when the Owens River teemed with trout.  Back in 1913, Los Angeles DWP diverted water from the Owens River into the LA Aqueduct.  This begat the dramatic decline of the Valley, starved for water.  In 2006 a re-watering project began to restore 62 miles of the Owens River habitat.  Now, kayakers, fisherman and wildlife are returning to the Owens River.   The neon trout provides a cool icon of this effort.

How is it we passed the Film History Museum without ever stopping before?  Luckily, the Ranger at the Forest Service/Park Service Visitor Center urged us to stop in.  What a kick!  We watch the introductory film and are transported to our childhoods in front of black and white TV sets, watching cowboy movies and TV series, once again humming the Bonanza theme.  Suddenly, it is obvious that most of our favorite western shows were filmed right here in the Alabama Hills.  Not to mention, sci-fi thrillers like Star Trek, and movies like Tremors.

The displays are fantastic!  Giant movie posters, gleaming cars used in movies, sets and costumes.  Amazingly decorated saddles and memorabilia.  All for a $5 entry fee. 

The Lone Ranger and Tonto agree to have their picture taken with us.  Hard for cardboard cut-outs to argue, anyway.

I laugh that a movie set in Oklahoma could use the Alabama Hills as a set - never saw such rock formations in Oklahoma!

On our way to hike in the Alabama Hills, we pause in front of this spread with their humorous "Sex Drive" sign.

This is the view from their house - the snow-dusted Sierra Crest range majestically towering over the Alabama Hills.

The Mobus Arch is a popular hike and from the correct angle we spy the heart shaped window that nature has carved in the arch wall.

After a short hike, we drive up the steep, curving road to the Mt, Whitney portal - the starting point for the intrepid hikers of Mt. Whitney.  There are lots of warnings about proper preparation for the hike - days of elevation acclimation, packing out your own poop, dangers, weather, etc.  I realize that the only Mt. Whitney hike I will ever take is the 4 mile downhill hike from the Portal.  Locals say it is spectacular.  

Talk about contrasts!  The waterfall that rushes down to the portal campground is almost completely frozen (already).

We are determined to squeeze in a visit to Manzanar - the largest detention camp in California - it housed 11,000 Japanese Americans and immigrants between 1942 and 1945.  We tour the beautifully designed Visitors Center and hear first-hand stories of loss, despair, and resiliency experienced by the Japanese, torn from their West Coast communities and forced to live in bare isolation during the war years.  The poster above depicts a few of the 26.000 who still chose to enlist in the service, even though they and their families were treated as domestic enemies.

This photo is of a huge fabric hanging imprinted with the names of all the detainees.  Hundreds of marriages were performed and hundreds of babies were born at Manzanar. People were forced to share quarters with multiple families.  Barracks were thrown up almost overnight, so they were poorly constructed, leaking rain, sand and wind.  However, families set to work to convert the barracks into make-shift homes and the desert landscape into gardens.  

The mess hall also served as a dance hall for the detainees, and the ghostly photo on fabric gives an impression of what that was like.

Night falls quick here so we high-tail it south to reach Fossil Falls campground just before dark.  Our last dinner of pasta and salad, the last bottle of wine and the last game of cards.  Women won both games!  

Death Valley - Alive!

Backtracking a bit before our Death Valley arrival - I want to point out that we marveled at the Joshua Trees we met along the way.  

Being portable in the van, we take our epicurean breaks wherever we want.  In this case, we had a view of Mount Whitney, highest point in the continental US at 14,421 feet.

A long, and perilous-feeling, 9% grade descent into Death Valley (to me and Lisa riding in the back) was rewarded when we arrived at our campground In time for the sunset.

We drug our camp chairs, and by now the customary gin and tonics, to a small overlook and took in the technicolor sky.   

After dinner, we began to notice folks walking by with camp chairs.  We found out that the 49ers, a long standing booster organization for the Park, were staging their annual week-long jamboree.  Campers were headed to the free nightly concert.  We decided to check it out and heard the last few amateur acts.  Think fiddlin' and croonin', and an appreciative audience of a couple hundred old timers (is that us now?).

Next morning, we set off to explore the amazing salt flats and tried to spy the unique and endangered pupfish that have survived millennia in the briny shallow waters that edge the Badwater Basin.  No luck, but we did encounter a large group of Japanese tourists all carrying umbrellas over their heads.  Pretty smart.

The basin is crackled and riveted with salt crusts that form interesting patterns.

Up close, the salt crusts glisten like tiny quartz cliffs and canyons.  It boggles our minds to think of early wagon trains being lured to attempt a "shortcut" across this desolate valley to the California gold rush.

A hike to Natural Bridge leads us to this waterfall channel worn deep into the cliff face.  Given Death Valley's average of 2 inches of rain annually, it must be a rare sight to see water cascading.  Nonetheless, flash floods are a real danger when it does rain.

Natural Bridge is cool, but the hike to see it is hot.

I picked up this postcard at the Visitor's Center to send to Germany.  Loved the art work.  It was thrilling (the view and the roller coaster road) to take the scenic detour along Artist Drive.  We stopped at Artist Palette to compare the scene with the postcard.  Vivid turquoise and pink splashes of color punctuated the mountain slopes.

The heat, and rolling around in the back of the van, make me glad to return to camp for some R and R with my book.  John and Lisa explore the Visitor Center.  Hazy clouds derail the sunset into a bland event.  Dark falling at 5 pm turns us into old fogies heading to bed by 8!  However, a trek across the campground in the wee hours gives me an astounding view of the extravagant night sky.   What a show!

Going to Extremes

Two friendly hikers told us not to miss Mosaic Canyon so today we head there after deciding to abandon our plan to camp another night in Death Valley.  The long drive to the north part of the park discourages us (and we are sun weary).  We long to be in sight of the Sierras again.

Mosaic Canyon is just what the name promises and more.  The wide dry ancient river bed quickly narrows to stunning cliff faces on both sides with a wild jumble of textures and colors caused by the mighty forces of upheaval, water, wind and time.

Wherever you look there are fascinating patterns and textures stratified into the rock faces.

The narrow slot canyons offer lots of challenging obstacles like this one to scramble over and around.

 We encounter 4 or 5 such conundrums but manage to persevere 2 miles into the canyon before meeting the final sheer barrier that convinces us it's time to head back.

While hiking down canyon we come across two gentlemen sitting and resting. Ben notices that one of the pair is carrying a bamboo fly fishing rod. Ben asks him why he was carrying a fishing rod when there are no fish,let alone water, for fifty miles. The hiker explained he had attached a noose to the rod and used it to catch lizards, examine them and then let them go. Evidently the lizards are not fearful of the fishing rod. Who knew...

We drive west out of Death Valley, back over the Panamint Pass which is still harrowing, but just as scenic in the westerly direction.

A quick Google search helps us select Diaz Lake campground, owned by Los Angeles DWP, the mighty nemisis of the Owens Valley.  The campground is basic, but spacious, and we set up camp under 2 leaning trees lake-side.

Our expert fire builders get to work.

Living out of the camper van requires some military-like organization of labor and objects.  I take chief cook duties and fry up a sausage potato hash dinner.

Lisa take KP duty while Ben and John dry dishes and plot card game strategy.

This does them no good as Lisa and I parlay some superior card hands into a decisive victory tonight.

Bedtime is another example of cooperative chaos.  All extra items are stowed, lower bed is  pulled out and made, upper bunk is assembled, sheets tucked in by whatever hands can reach, and then we all muster into place.

Look what we have returned to!  It is a stunning time of year in the Owens Valley.

Starvin'? Try Arvin

Our friends John and Lisa proposed another road trip in our trusty brown camper van, and who are we to refuse?

After all, it was on the van's maiden voyage to  Utah four years ago with John and Lisa, that we experienced the concluding drama of Ben's open heart surgery in St. George.  After a  week of sleeping, eating, and traveling in a van, 4 adults find out if they are travel compatible.  

Appears we are.

Given the approach of winter in the Sierras, we decide to avoid extremely cold nights and settle on a trip to Death Valley.  We are  Death Valley newbies.

We depart SLO fully loaded with meals, wine, and the makings for gin and tonics.  Our route east takes us through SLO County's own arid eastern flank on Highway 166.  We cruise through miles of orange orchards and dusty raisin grape farms to our favored stopover in the little Mexican oasis of Arvin.

Vallarta Market looks unassuming from the parking lot, but enter it's doors and be transported to Old Mexico. 

Tortillas are produced in-store and come in vivid colors and flavors.  

Where else will you find strawberry and pineapple flavored masa?

Vallarta Market has a full Mexican deli with choices from posole to goat stew. Drink choices include spinach punch and Horchata.

We have to indulge!  Though our fridge in fully stocked, we can't pass up a container of salsa fresca.  We leave Vallarta stuffed.

We then head up over Tehachapi Pass and the rolling golden hills, studded with granite.  In 90 minutes or so we reach our first destination - Red Rock Canyon State Park.

  About 50 campsites spread out before us.  3 were  taken.  After trying to level the van in one site, we opt to move to a  brand new level site, with a concrete pad, designated for the disabled.  

We hope not to get in trouble. 

The sun sets quickly over the wind-swept and fluted cliffs that yawn over our site.  We hike up to a nearby ridge top to enjoy the sun make its second setting.

Wood scavenged from adjoining sites give a cozy fire by which to sip our gin and tonics.  Stars appear with the narrowest sliver of a moon.  We retreat to the van for a soup supper and a few rounds of Spades.  Men win, but there will be other nights.