Dec 20
I really need to be more consistent in reading the trail descriptions before pointing my bike towards the mountains on trails I’ve never ridden.
The final “big” climb I loaded onto my Garmin was essentially unridable, resulting in a miserable two mile hike-a-bike slog 1,300ft to the summit pass.
Fortunately, the back side of the mountain rewarded me with an ear-to-ear grin-inducing 1,700ft descent back to camp.
Jul 29
Today’ plan was to relocate from Portola to Truckee, about 45 minutes away. Our destination was Granite Flat Campground, which upon arrival immediately underwhelmed us. Oddly shaped, tight sites, and located about 30 feet off a major highway, we were not at all impressed with this campground.
Debating our options, Kelly quickly recalled a recent social media post referencing a first-come, first serve campground about 20 minutes drive away.
Having convinced me eschew the existing reservation at Granite Flat, Kelly and I rolled the dice – arriving to Martis Creek Campground at 6:30pm on a Friday. Despite the odds against doing so, we snagged a spot at this sweet campground.
Sometimes the universe throws us a bone.
Lucky us.
Once again we find ourselves camping at Anthony Chabot in the San Francisco east bay. This place is a bit peculiar as most of the park is dry camping and generator usage is prohibited. As a result, the sites frequently turnover – often daily, which I suspect is because most rigs do not have capacity to sustain batteries beyond one or two nights.
Seemingly we are one of the few rigs that have capacity to maintain power longer term and it’s been interesting to observe the mood of the park ebb and flow between weekenders and those passing through during the week.
Soon enough we to will be moving on, contributing to the transient nature of this interesting campground.
Yesterday after work we left the coast and moved inland about two hours east. In the process we drove through the incredibly beautiful Siskiyou National Forest, before arriving to a county park just outside of Selma … a sleepy, single flashing stoplight kind of town.
When traveling between where one has been and where one is going, visitors pass through Selma. In the process, slowing to 40mph before choosing whether or not to pull-off at a small handful of local businesses (grocer, bar & grill, min-mart, gas station, etc.), or focus on how quickly to begin accelerating back to 55mph.
Essentially there is nothing here, except natural beauty. And there is plenty of it.
This morning we awoke to a virtually empty campground next to Lake Selmac, our home for the next two weeks.
Wandering With Purpose 