Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Backroads Are the Only Ones that Get You Anywhere...

I prefer, truck or bike, to roll on the backroads. The little, two lane... or sometimes better the almost two lane tracks through the mountains...

*The road to McGee Creek Campground*

The cacophony and commotion is left behind and below... your senses can come alive. You hear the wind, smell the sage and the pines...

Once in a while you get an unexpected view of a  curious neighbor...



Backroads lead to the places most often not on the maps... Spots as yet undiscovered by the hoards of tourists rushing from attraction to attraction starred on their AAA trip itinerary.

The quiet and slow pace sinks into your spirit and that pressure in your chest recedes. You stand on a bluff above a lake... or along the bank of a creek deep in a desert canyon... and know... for sure and for certain that THIS is your home... THIS is where you belong...

...and if you're drug back into that cacophony from which you fled... your heart will wither and you shall surely die.



A short drive above us is a road that leads back into the Sierras and a small place called Convict Lake...

Now, this is one of those "middle ground" places. It's a place not quite unfound. The fishermen flock to it in pursuit of the Rainbow's and other treasures hidden in its depths...

But fishermen make little noise... they aren't jumping around to the beat of pounding rap racket... they stand quiet or move in slow rhythmical motions... in a way they generally contribute to the spirit of the places you find them.

Even their boats move slow and quiet, trolling the waters...



We walked the three miles and a bit along the trail that took us 'round the lake. From sage into tall pines, maybe a Sequoia or two? ... into Aspen and back into the sage... all nestled just below 8,000' in a glacial valley.










*Through the big trees at Convict Lake*


*Convict Lake*


The snow melt is still running. It comes in through the Aspens below the high peaks at the west end of the lake... the rushing of the water carries across the lake...

The stony beach there is a nice spot to sit on a log for a while and just soak up the high country sun.

The light on the mountain changes as you circle around, seeming to give you a fresh face every few steps. Care has to be taken that you don't lock your eyes on the glorious peaks around you and step blindly off the narrow track.

Up in Mammoth Lakes, as you leave the town there's a sign that to me is an echo of John Muirs words; "The mountains are calling and I must go." ... it says; "Going to the Mountains is going home."



*Convict Lake, California*

I remember Yogi Berra was once quoted; "When you arrive at a fork in the road... Take it."


*Take the fork...*

I'd advise that you listen to the man... it just might take you down some glorious Backroads...

... and home again to some soft sunsets...



Find your road... and follow it.
Brian

3 comments:

Nan said...

Amazing photos! Love the backroads..

lostAnnfound said...

Thanks once again for sharing photos of such beautiful places!

CJ said...

GORGEOUS!!!