We arose to another sunny morning, the smell of strong coffee… and the remnants of marauding raccoons. After clearing and cleaning the tables, we enjoyed yet another hearty - if not heart smart - breakfast. We were all looking forward to what was described as "…a short, easy day…" that was intended allow some recovery before the big climb on the last day. Well, the wind can foul the best of intentions. We battled a headwind all day, and the 18 miles to the first rest stop were a gradual uphill climb.
Shortly after leaving Diaz Lake, we passed through Lone Pine where the
portal to Mt. Whitney - the highest point in the contiguous U.S. - branches
off. The peaks were all sporting a mantle of snow from the recent storm and
were truly majestic. This area is also famous for the Alabama Hills, where
the old westerns like The Lone Ranger and The Cisco Kid were filmed. Ten miles
later we passed Manzanar, the War Relocation Center that was one of ten camps
at which Japanese American citizens and Japanese aliens were interned during
World War II.
After a rest and refueling stop in Independence, we headed back into the wind
for 20 miles until we turned west toward Tinamaha Creek and campground. Our
destination was the fish hatchery on old Route 395… and lunch. With the
wind kindly blocked by the support vehicles, it was warm and comfortable under
the clear blue Sierra sky. Although we waited patiently, the wind did not
offer signs of diminishing, so we pressed on for the final 20 miles into Bishop.
Several were waiting at Rusty's - a traditional stop… the first bar on
the right - when the gear trailer passed, so we proceeded on to our home for
the night at the Tri-County Fairgrounds.
Once the tents were erected and road-weary bodies showered, the USARC van loaded up willing participants to ride back to Rusty's for a few cold ones before the evening meal. Several of the riders had stopped directly, so it was a full house of cyclists and locals. A poignant moment occurred shortly after our arrival when an elderly gentleman ambled in and recognized our group. As his eyes acclimated to the darkened bar, his whole face took on a glow of joy. Seems that last year he met KelLe, the USARC Director, and they had had a wonderful conversation - a very special event as he is hearing-impaired, and she is fluent in sign language.
As the dinner hour approached, we all piled back in the van, and the designated driver took us back to the campsite. A short, uneventful ride until entering the main gate of the fairgrounds when one of the riders decided that he should be on his bike… that was on the roof-mounted bike rack. His feat of agility and daring was met with wide-eyed disbelief by the attendees of the square-dancing convention, in their doublewide land yachts, with whom we were sharing the premises.
Following a delicious meal of salmon, red rice and beans, and Caesar's salad, the van reloaded for a trip to Keough Hot Springs. There is nothing like a soak in a natural Jacuzzi, in the Alpenglow of an almost full moon, to facilitate total relaxation. Returning to camp, choruses of Do-see-do your partner and Allemande left, as the Square Dancers rocked the gymnasium, further delayed bedtime.
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