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Into the Wild
Lately, life has been blazing by at a thousand miles an hour, just the way I like it. The way I see it, I’ll get plenty of rest when I’m dead, so why waste time doing nothing when I can be doing something fun instead?
Last week, for the first time in months, our calendar had nothing on it. Nothing at all. When I realized we had no plans, those blank calendar space started making me itchy. It wasn’t long before I had something in mind to fill up those empty days.
My scheme, which included both Sleeping Beauty and Rain Cloud Follows, was simple; ride north and camp. I knew it would be a hard sell. Last July, Sleeping Beauty and I took my FJR motorcycle to Kern Valley for a little camping and a little white water rafting. The trip was fun, but the ride up was so brutally hot we both were well cooked by the time we arrived. I distinctly remember Fiona, who usually goes along with anything, calling me a ‘retard’ for making her endure the overwhelming heat.
Ah, the good ol’ days….
When I asked if she felt like taking a little ride up to Yosemite, she immediately said, “Don’t you remember how hot and miserable it was riding up near Bakersfield last year?”
I gave my standard answer. “Err… no?”
“Well, it was hot,” she replied without calling me that politically incorrect term again. “Too hot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for going,” she continued, “but why don’t we take the car instead?”
“Err…”
Take the… car? Hmm… Instead of riding, could we actually d.. d… drive somewhere and still have fun? I dunno about this. My wheels turned as I imagined the five hour trip trapped in a four door cage.
And then, she delivered the deal clincher. “It has air conditioning!”
I realized while we’d be trapped in that cage, we’d also be protected from the sweltering sun and inevitable rain; cool and comfortable, with the ability to simply twist a little knob and adjust the temperature. And, as I’ve so often been reminded, compromise is supposedly an important part to any relationship. Finally, with all the extra room in the Honda SM-AW (Soccer Mom-Adventure Wagon) we’d be able to bring along our entire collection of expensive camping crap, which is impossible to pack on Rain Cloud Follows.
The Soccer Mom-Adventure Wagon, Ready For Action!
Actually, her suggestion didn’t sound half bad to me, and with that it was decided. Driving to Yosemite it would be.
Last year, Fiona and I were shocked by the extremely high cost of entry into the sport of camping. A little room made of cloth supported by two aluminum poles cost more than a new exhaust for the FJR would. Two hi-tech sleeping bags, rated for weather much colder than I ever plan to sleep in, cost the same as five bottles of Macallan. Each!
Every other piece of gear designed to help us survive in the wild, from inflatable ground pads to the Jetboil gas stove with all its various cooking accessories… well… let’s just say by the time we got to the checkout, our cart contained enough expensive camping gear to fund a two week Edelweiss tour in the Alps.
At the register, we held our breath, maxed out the Visa, and became official members of Camping Nation. Broke members, yes, but at least we were proud owners of decent gear designed to survive the great outdoors.
Or, at least most of the gear. The other thing the newest members of Camping Nation found out – something they neglected to tell us at the checkout of the camping store -when going camping, there’s always just one more thing you need. That one more thing usually costs about $150. But that’s OK. I’ve always said I’d rather be lying on my deathbed drowning in debt than laying there full of tubes saying, “I should have…” or, “I wish I’d…” or, “If only I’d gotten to…” At the rate I’m going, drowning in debt is a very attainable goal, especially since nowadays credit cards aren’t the free money they once were.
Another hard won camping lesson I give you for free: If you want to camp somewhere popular, like Yosemite National Park, it’s best to make your reservation at least a decade in advance. Doing so will ensure you may get a tiny tent space in the park, usually near a dumpster, a family of screaming babies, or possibly, if you are really lucky, a broken, overflowing toilet.
Not being the annoying ‘plan-ahead’ types, it was immediately obvious that with the decade long waiting list for a site, Yosemite was out. Fiona came up with Plan B. I always like Plan B (or C or D) better, because those plans are much less predictable, and usually more fun. Instead of Yosemite, our home away from home would be Bass Lake, an excellent sounding place to spend a few days.
When the big day finally arrived, we loaded the Adventure Wagon full of all the usual junk: tent, bags, and chairs, and also brought some we could never fit on a motorcycle: full beer cooler, food, a camping microwave and inflatable satellite dish, just for starters. The thermometer read 107 outside, but sealed in the air conditioning, we cruised along I-5 at a cool, comfortable 68. Occasionally we’d give a knowing look to the poor bikers roaring past the Wagon, who were roasting in their gear. Poor bastards!
Ever accommodating, Sleeping Beauty decided to stay awake to keep me company as I drove. Thanks to our lack of helmets, she was able to offer me many, many helpful driving tips and suggestions on the five hour drive.
My Beautiful Co-pilot Sleeping Beauty
After a while, I have to admit I started to miss the solitude of my helmet.
We arrived at Bass Lake after dark, forcing us to build our tent by headlight. What camping crap we needed was set up, the rest was safely locked in the Adventure Wagon, and finally we were ready to settle in and start our camping adventure.
A hearty, fireside Macallan toast was drained to celebrate the traditional Best Day Ever.
Our hi-tech, hi-dollar sleeping bags are rated to work all the way down to 15 degrees. Perfect for summiting K2, but a bit of overkill for balmy 80 degree California nights. Thanks to these hi-tech bags, I provided Sleeping Beauty with some nice late night campsite comedy, dreaming all night that my legs were on fire.
The next morning dawned clear and still balmy. As the sun rose, a deer strolled through our site, happy to say good morning to a couple of obvious veterans of nature such as ourselves.
As the sun continued to rise, 50,000 curious bees also came out to see what we were doing. In a fit of brilliance, I decided to test my wilderness mettle, and provide for my woman by making wilderness breakfast, an idea which ranks right down there with the best of them.
I donned my ridiculous camping hat, fired up the Jetboil, and Chef Frenchy’s Campside Cafe was officially open for business.
Chef Frenchy’s Campsite Omelet Recipe:
1) Wear ridiculous camping hat, endure ensuing ridicule.
2) Cut stuff up, then heat that stuff up in frying pan. Add lots of butter, because butter makes everything better.
3) Swat any hungry bees that get too close.
Don’t worry, one or two bees in omelet mixture adds that special je ne sais quois outdoorsy omelet flavor.
4) Crack eggs, pour them in really hot Jetboil frying pan, burn fingers, cook eggs until they almost burn, dump cut-up heated-up stuff on one side of your egg circle, then fold omelet in half.
5) Most important of all, allow your ‘victim’ to eat first. Watch for signs of doubling over, running for the latrine, or projectile vomiting. If none of these symptoms occur, feel free to use remaining ingredients to make yourself an omelet.
Chef Frenchy’s Campsite Coffee Recipe:
1) Fire up Jetboil.
2) Fill cooking cup with water.
3) Dump five to six heaping tablespoons of fake… err… instant coffee into coffee cup.
4) Pour hot water over fake coffee ‘flavor crystals.’ (For really, really good coffee, make sure your instant coffee uses genuine meth in flavor crystals instead of the dreaded instant meth.)
5) Add milk to cut the horrid instant coffee taste. If it still tastes like something that would come out of a sick dog, top off with a wee splash of Macallan.
Warning: Chef Frenchy’s Amazing Breakfast has been known to endow certain people with superhuman strength.
Fiona, who hates a dirty tent, used her new found power to do a little house keeping.
Surviving breakfast, we realized stretching before us was an entire day to kill, and a beautiful lake nearby to kill it in. The drive up the day before, while pleasant and all that, left me with a pretty bad handlebar jones. We solved that jones by renting a jet ski.
A jet ski is almost all the fun of motorcycling, with none of the safety gear. Wipe out in the lake and the worst that happens is you get wet. I drove first, worried as I always am about Sleeping Beauty taking a snooze and falling off. I took it easy, gently working the thumb throttle to ease us out into the lake, gradually easing the machine faster, a little at a time. The loud ‘Whooop whooop!‘ coming from behind me told me Fiona was awake and having a good time.
Then, I let her drive.
While my biggest concern was her safety when I was driving, Fiona’s only concerns were ‘more throttle’ and ‘catching air.’ The ‘Whooop Whooooop!‘ now coming from in front of me became even louder as Sleeping Beauty transformed into Evel Knievel, jumping wave after wave, propelling our jet ski high in the air. Damage deposit be damned, this is FUN!
All too soon it was time to return our rental. Judging from the huge smile on Fiona’s face, this camping trip may have gotten a whole lot more expensive, because there may just be a jet ski in our future.
With the rest of the day left to kill, we retired to the shores of Bass Lake for some professional time killing.
Many Corona Lights Were Drained For The Making of This Picture
The Best Day Ever stretched into the night. I know it was the Best Day Ever. I even have a photo that proves it.
The next morning, Fiona enjoyed another amazing Chef Frenchy breakfast, using the same recipe as the day before.
Fueled and ready for more fun, we packed up our site, loaded the Adventure Wagon and headed into Yosemite National Park.
Even thought the SM-AW has two wheels too many for my taste, the benefit of being able to stop, jump out and snap a picture then quickly move on wasn’t lost on me in Yosemite.
Bridalveil Falls
Unnamed Waterfall – Yosemite
Dead Trees
Yosemite Roads
Sleeping Beauty took over driving duties for the day, allowing me to be a spectator in one of the most beautiful National Parks in the country. It was fun, even if she drives a bit fast.
Suddenly, somewhere on the Tioga Pass, we heard a tremendous clap of thunder, and though both Rain Cloud Follows and Stormbringer were both parked in garages hundreds of miles away, the rain started pouring down.
It wasn’t a long storm, but it rained pretty hard. Thanks to the Honda Soccer Mom-Adventure Wagon we stayed completely dry. What a laugh that was!
Our trip through the National Park over, we turned right at the end of the Tioga Pass, pointing the Adventure Wagon in the direction of home. But instead of driving straight home, we took the scenic route, by detouring to the June Lake Loop.
The detour was worth it.
Fiona enjoyed driving so much she wanted to drive all the way, which was fine by me. I took advantage of this rare opportunity to give her a little taste of her own medicine, instantly transforming myself into Sleeping Not-So Beauty, and snoring the rest of the way home.
Author: frenchy
2 Responses to “Into the Wild”
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Hi. I have a blog at http://www.picturecamping.com where I feature people's posts about camping, and I would like to send my readers your way. Of course I would give you credit for quotes and would link back to your site.
Thanks for considering this,
Jean B. in SC
Frenchy, m'boy that was excellent. The lack of motorcycle content hurt it not one little bit. Your photography and writing skills leave me spellbound. Good man!
Cheers,
Simon (Sir Limpsalot)