Under the suggestion of the bartender at the Gold Hill Saloon, I drove back towards Lake Tahoe and went to Spooner Lake to rent a bike and ride the Flume Trail. The first part of the trail is a 4 mile ride that climbs 1000ft in pretty soft gravel. Between being out of shape and riding in high altitude, I found myself extremely out of breath and walking the last 1/4-1/2 of the trail. Once at the top, I got a beautiful view of Marlette Lake, an almost untouched lake that was a crystal clear blue.
After getting to the edge of Marlette lake, the actual Flume Trail begins. The flume trail was the most technical trail I have ever ridden (which isn't really saying all that much) and easily the most scenic. The trail wrapped the round the top of a mountain which rounded Lake Tahoe (as seen above) though the view was hazy due to the fires in Yosemite and elsewhere. When I got back to the car (a van picks you up) and ate, I didn't get on the road till 3 pm which would make it tough to make it to Oregon the same day.
Passing through Reno I stumbled on a AAA office and stopped in to get a camping guide. In looking through the guide I found Milford, CA to be the best bet for a camping spot. I couldn't find a place to buy food along the sometimes desolate HWY 395 but, in learning from my past decisions, I decided it was better to find a place and let food figure itself out.
Driving along the 395, I see a sign for a state run campground and ventured 2.5 miles to the west. Half of a mile from the campground, I see a sign for a road closure. For some reason I ignore this sign and continue along the freshly groomed gravel road. I get to the campground and the entry gate is open, proving to me that the road closure sign MUST have been wrong.
As I enter, I pause at the bulletin board to see if there are announcements. None. There is a payment receptacle but no bulletin regarding cost and no envelopes for payment which is strange. None the less, I see an old bet up truck through some trees and decide to go see who's there. I round the corner and make out 3 old big trucks with wooden side wall extensions to make the walls of the truck as tall as the roof of the cab.
I spot the bathroom, which looks like a fancy hole in the ground (vaulted), which is not surprising as the AAA guide already warned me of no showers or flushing toilets. An overweight woman with brown hair emerges from the toilet with a small yappy black dog following close. The minute it sees me, it begins to yap uncontrollably. As I pass the woman I see her, who I presume to be, husband and 3-4 young kids and identical black dog which begins to yap uncontrollably the minute it sees me, this one somehow more annoying than the last.
As the father and children come into sight, all heads snap towards me in unison. The father, whose curly hair spilled out of his faded baseball cap, flashed me a look as if to say, "If you knew what was good for you, you'd keep on moving." Though I could see him clearly through the corner of my eye behind the dark lenses of my Ray-Bans, I never turned my head to acknowledge him. I just kept up my speed, making sure not to run over either of their dogs, and returned to the gravel road before the dust could settle from my drive over. The complete dusting of my car, along with the gravel beating the undercarriage, was the punishment as if to tell me to believe the signs next time. As I headed back to the 395 as fast over the speed limit as I could justify, I couldn't help but notice how much the family, in all seriousness, reminded me of the Spuckler's from the Simpson's. Their appearance, posture, and dress were remarkably similar.
I drove north on the 395, battling sunlight, and found an RV campsite a few miles down with showers, something I needed more than ever due to the bike ride, and a convenience store. As I cooked dinner that night, I found myself constantly fighting off the local cats that seemed to be quite comfortable at the campsite but have no home to speak of. They bugged me from the minute I parked my car though they became more relentless as I began to cook in the dark, keeping tabs on them by darting my flashlight around to find them in between stirs of my food. It didn't help the fact that I decided to cook tuna that night.
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