Saturday morning was sunny and bright in Carson City, but the wind was gusting as usual. The hour we saved by driving to Carson City the night before allowed us to modify plans a bit and derive to South Lake Tahoe to meet my cousin, Donald, and his family for lunch at their retreat on the hill above the Lake Tahoe Golf Course. We hadn't seen Donald and his family since Mom's 80th birthday celebration in S.F. seven years ago, so we couldn't let the opportunity for a visit slip by while we were so close. And burgers grilled under the Sierra pines were just as tasty as I remember from my childhood. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay longer, so after a couple of hours swapping tales and getting acquainted with the kids it was time to hit the road again.
We took the road around the western shore of the lake, running the ridge above Emerald Bay and past Bliss State park, admiring all the old pines and firs that have been preserved and were spared by the fires that raged up the nearby ridges a year or two ago. It's been a wet year this year, and it looks like the fire hazards this year will be much reduced from what they've suffered the past few seasons.
We left the lake shore at Tahoe City and headed north on Highway 89 toward Truckee. In all my younger years bouncing around that part of the Sierras I had not traveled 89 between Truckee and Quincy, and I was really looking forward to the opportunity to run along the top of the mountains. One of the first things to catch my eye along the road about 5 miles north of Truckee was a sign for the USFS picnic area at Donner Camp. It was only a mile or two after I passed the sign that I appreciated the incongruity of the sign and turned around to snap a picture. Juxtaposing the Donner party with a picnic area seemed pretty dark and morbid, and I had to wonder if the Forest Service folks had ever paused with a second thought about the wording on that sign. (For those not familiar with the history of the Donner party you can read up here.here) A little further along the road we stopped to take a stretch and snapped a shot with an old incense cedar (Calocedrus decurrens), which Gi and I agreed was one of our favorite species in those forests. Just across the road, though, we found a sugar pine (Pinus lambertiana), and it was her first opportunity to see the large cones that are one of the most distinctive features of the species. (We actually carried a cone the remaining thirty miles to Quincy and asked to have it shipped home to us later.)
The afternoon was a bit colder and a lot windier than I had expected from the forecast, but the ride was still lovely with big sweeping curves and long straightaways through the pine forests giving away to high mountain pastureland around Sierraville. We passed the turn off near Blairsden and Graeagle to the YMCA camp at Gold Lake where I spent two or three memorable summer vacations. (I seem to recall hearing that the camp was sold a few -- or many -- years ago and is no doubt now been carved uo for vacation homes.)Right on time around 4 PM we pulled into Uncle Bob's ranch just outside Quincy.
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