M. and I haven't been to the Sierras for a while, so we arrange a short trip. This is the ideal time of year: few tourists and usually good weather.

Wed 30 Sept

We leave at 4:20 PM and drive to a B&B (the McCaffrey House) in Twain Harte, stopping in Oakdale for gas ($5.99 - thanks, Drumpf). Around Escalon we're surprised by the amount of almond orchards that have been pulled out; not sure what they'll be replaced with.

We arrive about 7:30 PM. The B&B is nice; tchotchkes everywhere. The proprietor (Stephanie, 84) is chatty. There's a Steinway grand in the parlor, in not-bad shape. I play Satie and Glass.

The town shuts down early. We go to the Twain Harte Market: excellent, deserted. We get a couple of heirloom tomatoes, and some sushi which we eat at a picnic table outside. We go to Ed's Cocktail Lounge, the only other place that's open. It's pretty dive-y, but they do have an IPA on tap. We go to patio out back, with cornhole, spotlights and a concentration-camp ambience. There are a few loud young people, with XXL womenfolk. A old golden retriever comes out and we pet him. He has strange lumps on back.

A guy with dreadlocks comes out, and I wave him over to our table. He's smoking a cigarette; M. moves to avoid the smoke. The dog is his; the lumps are some kind of ingrown hairs, and result in big vet bills. He had a government job in Sunnyvale and retired here. We tell him we're from Berkeley; he breathes a sigh of relief and complains about the local MAGAts. He gives us a list of scenic places on the way to Sonora pass: Donnell Vista, Clarke's Fork, Beardsley Lake. He has me type these into my phone so I won't forget.

I take half an Ambien and sleep for maybe 5 hours.

Thu 1 Oct

Breakfast is OK; a fruit bowl and a souffle-like thing with cheese and pasta sauce.

Stephanie sits with us tells the history of her family and of the property, going way back. She went to SJSU. When I mention John Carlos and the statues, she shakes her head and says that was 'so wrong'. I suspect she's a pseudo-Christian MAGAt.

M. plays some Bach on the piano.

We drive to Sonora pass, stopping at Donnell Vista. This has a short paved loop trail, and a spectacular view of Donnell Lake and its dam. The valley has a series of reservoirs, not visible from the road.

Nice cedar

Country rock in distance

Dam visible L of M.

Reservoir low, end of summer

Around Kennedy Meadows there's a young man hitchhiking, holding up a skateboard. We drive up to the pass. As we're parking, a pickup truck pulls up behind us. The skateboarder gets out, then the driver. He's an older guy with a prosthetic leg who says he did daredevil shit like this in his younger day; he lost the leg in motorcycle crash.

We chat with the skateboarder. He's going to descend the steep and winding road, back to Kennedy Meadows. Top speeds are in the 55 MPH range. He has a helmet and kneepads, that's it. No GoPro or anything; he just does this for fun. Seems kinda suicidal, but hey.

We hike north on the Pacific Crest Trail toward Sonora Peak. It's 80-ish with harsh sun; we both feel lethargic but we slog on.

M stops under some trees. I scramble up some volcanic rocks, heading for the top of an outcrop. It's unexpectedly steep and chossy so I give up.

View from chossy rocks

Plants growing around small stream

Odd stretchs of volcanic-looking dirt

We return to the car and start driving; a kindly driver gesticulates to us that our rear hatch is open. We continue to Bridgeport. There are lots of aspens, near their peak of color: vivid yellow, and in places orange.

This whole day I experience a weird mental thing. I get momentary flashes, every few minutes, of the memory of some experience involving travel and history. The flashes are too short for me to figure out what the experience was, or indeed whether it's a real-life memory, a long-ago dream, or some random stuff bubbling up from my subconscious. It's quite unsettling. M. thinks it's because of the Ambien, possibly in combination with the IPA. That's likely; it goes away the next day.

We continue to Lee Vining, stopping at Mono Cone for soft-serve ice cream, and checking out the history museum and upside-down house, which are closed as always.

We stop at the Lee Vining General Store, of which M. is very fond. She gets some mustard to go with the tomatoes, and comments on the huge array of Mexican hot-sauce products.

Giant clouds of white smoke are pouring over mountains, into the valley where June Lakes is. It's clearly a forest fire; turns out it's from the Dome Fire, which is far away (Wawona) but somehow the wind blew the smoke here. M. is concerned about the viability of staying in June Lakes, but I check the AQI there and it's 44, which is in the OK range.

We walk up to our usual spot on the Panum crater. The plan was to walk all the way around the rim but M. is getting tired.

Note forest-fire smoke

We continue to the June Lakes Motel and check in. A classic motorcycle group from Reno is staying there; there are 20+ bikes in parking lot, including one from the 1930s. A bunch of friendly old guys stand around, talking about their bikes.

We go to June Lakes Brewery, which is in a warehouse behind the motel. It get their high-IBU IPA. M. wants wine but settles for an alcoholic fruit fizzy water. There's a large area with picnic tables and canopies but no lights. There's a taco truck, La Parilla. It's reminiscent of Plan B in Spain. I get an excellent spicy chicken burrito; M. has the usual fish taco. It's dark-ish by 7:30.

Back in the room, there's a BOINC mini-crisis which requires some hasty hacking on my part. M. does email, and we retire around 11.

M. does online research on the geology of Sonora Pass. Turns out it's almost entirely volcanic, from 5-10 million years ago.

Fri 2 Oct

I have the usual high-altitude syndrome where I can't sleep because my nose plugs up with caked snot and my pulse is elevated. M. doesn't sleep either; there's a bright light outside the window, and the curtains are not opaque. Bikers start their engines around 8 AM.

It's clear to me that I need to return to Berkeley today; I can't take another zero-sleep night. M. resists this idea at first but graciously accepts it.

M. makes coffee in the room, then we go in search of better coffee. Right across the street there's a funky place with a sign saying Organic Espresso, and also film (?) and batteries. We go in, and it's groovy. We get an excellent double espresso and Americano for ~$3 each. There's an assortment of incense and essential oils. The proprietor is Dan, a 75 year old deadhead with flowing white hair. He's also a Reichi therapist but not for money. We talk about the Grateful Dead, the Lesh Jr band, and hiking. He's going to see a show in Petaluma tomorrow.

We stop at June Lake Market, which (like its counterpart in Lee Vining) sells everything imagineable. Maryse gets a salt/pepper shaker holder with a bear and moose in a canoe. Back in the room, I finish last night's burrito and we pack up.

We drive to the Mobil station but don't go in. I get 3 gallons of gas ($7.69) just to be sure.

We drive to the Mono Pass trailhead, and hike c. 2.5 miles toward the pass. The trail is nearly level and easy to walk on. We get tired, and smoke from the Dome fire blows in, so we turn around. Maryse uses her bandana as an air filter.

There's a huge variety of rocks along trail.

Kinda looks like petrified wood

We chat with couple in a rented Sprinter who want to do some easy trad climbing in the Valley; they got smoked out yesterday and are going back.

M. wants to dip her feet in a stream. We go to Puppy Dome but some sort of pipe-laying project has erected a long barrier of orange plastic fencing, so you can't go there. What BS.

We drive down the road to Tuolumne Meadows, where the stream is right next to the road, and soak our feet for a few minutes.

We drive back 100 yards to Lembert Dome, climb up the shallow part of the dome, and admire the view.

We drive to Olmstead Point

and climb up a nearby granite ramp to some boulders.

The sun reflecting off of glacial polish is psychedelic.

We drive to Groveland and stretch our legs in the roadside park.

We drive home, arriving c. 9 PM. There's a long, fairly dramatic sunset between Groveland and Oakdale.

Injury report

The usual sporadic right big toe pain. And of course tiredness due to sleep problems.