The next morning was cooler, with temperatures in the mid-50s, but the skies were clear blue. The route took us north, past the entrance to the Naval Air Warfare Center Weapons Division, China Lake, where we headed west back toward Highway 395. We crossed over the highway, continuing on to Inyokern, where we turned north on Brown Road. The winds were light at the start but increased to a pesky headwind as we merged back onto Highway 395 just after the rest stop at 23 miles. The next 20 miles into the wind were rough going, and the only way to double digits on the speedometer was from the "drafting" wind generated by the passing traffic.
We passed Little Lake, which is at the southern end of the Owens Valley, and the depository of what is left of the Owens River. The Sierra Nevada mountain range is on our left, rising majestically out of the high desert. The lunch stop at Coso Junction turns into a lengthy rest, as no one is anxious to re-challenge the breeze. Two of the maintenance workers recognize some of the group from past rides and invite themselves to lunch and chat. Thankfully the warmer afternoon sun has quieted the wind, and the remaining 35-mile ride to the Diaz Lake Campsite, just south of Lone Pine, is very pleasant.
After staking out campsites, weary legs were iced down in the cold water
of the lake. As a welcomed addition to this year's ride, one of the technically
innovative riders has designed portable, diesel-fired hot water showers to
supplant the sole camp shower that is at the entrance a mile from the campsites.
He was the toast of the campfire that evening. As this is our first, and only,
relatively primitive camping area, it was the only opportunity to ignite the
ritual campfire. After feasting on chicken and beef tips, with salad, rolls
and brownies, we all gathered around the fire. Four contestants were selected
for the annual "Chubby Bunny" competition - the object being to
determine who can verbalize "Chubby Bunny" with the most marshmallows
stuffed in the mouth… without swallowing any of the fluffy treats. The
victor matched the USARC record of 18… and was visibly gastrically challenged
from the sugar insult. The camp had a magical glow from the full moon hung
out over the mountains, but the peace and serenity were invaded throughout
the night by the cacophony of resident ducks and the intrusion of hungry raccoons.
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