Independence Day in Plumas National Forest

Camping is so hot right now. It is so hot that there is not a single reservable campsite in the last 6 weeks in all of southern California. Something about the pandemic and the national health advisory advising that your friends outdoors is okay as long as its a bit windy has lit a fire in the national consciousness. Yeti stocks are soaring. Big 5 Sports have lines out the front. As not-casual campers and not months ahead planners, we were left with scant options. Our flight to the alpine lake city of Tahoe started when we got a polite invite to join a three day camping trip at a private camp co-op in Plumas National Forest to celebrate the Fourth of July weekend. My boyfriend and I decided to make a trip of it, joining Plumas National forest with the following weekend trip to the Sierras by working-from-home in Lake Tahoe. Cutting San Diego out of the loop would cut out 10 hours of drive time in that week, around 600 miles of wear on my new truck, and would only cost around $350 in midweek non-surge pricing hotel costs.

The urge to drive the 10 hours from San Diego to Plumas National forest was strong. I needed to reconnect with my old friends. The pandemic made me introspective. I had set a new priority in my life to improve my relationships with my friends and actually enjoy platonic intimacy. As an aside, its easy to take advantage of adventure friends when its so easy to spend time with them. It never feels like work when your friends just already want to do the things you want to do. Its too easy. Its easy to forget that they need attention just like other relationships need attention. And just like that, I didn’t see some of the people I considered my closest friends for almost two years. Needless to say, I yearned to reconnect in a meaningful way, and this little camping trip offered a means to do it.

We had loose plans. Hard core hang In Plumas, climb a little, bike a little, and then head out on a sufferfest backpacking trip over mount Williamson and Tyndall in the sierras. This rough itinerary had us pack almost all the sporting equipment we owned into the back of my truck. Then we packed a 3 month old puppy and associated accoutrements. The Truck was completely full, and my adventure closet and garage by contrast, were made completely empty.

I headed out with some hesitation. I had just purchased my truck 2 weeks before, and it was one of the most expensive things I have ever bought. I wanted to keep it nice. Something about hauling almost everything I owned close to 2000 miles sounded non-ideal to me. It took me several hours into the trip before I realized I had expired plates and the maintenance light was on. The registration added a slight level of anxiety of being pulled over along the many small town speed traps along the 395, just enough to be exciting. The maintenance light just annoyed me. Who sells a car without changing the oil? Either way, I did my best to plod up most of California with a full load gingerly pressing on the gas the entire time.

We stayed overnight at Fossil Falls, just as a pit stop. We wanted to give the puppy a break, and wanted to start our vacation a big early by leaving a day early with the intent to break up the drive. We left fossil falls before it got hot, which in July was about 7:30am.

The transition from north of Mammoth lakes past Reno and into Plumas shocked me. The landscape transitioned from the familiar suburbs of Death Valley to a lush forest. It felt like I went from a place where it does not rain to a place where it does. I found this refreshing. I lived in San Diego for 20 years, long enough for the heat to thoroughly desiccate my bones and bake in an anxious search for water in all my outdoor activities. I imagine that those that live in more humid environments are not plagued by water anxiety as much. They do not drink all of their water. Some of their water permeates through the air into their skin. It feels alien to me. This is how deeply I feel the lack of rain where I live. It relieved that anxiety to see the forest.

We arrived in Los Plumas at around 2:30Pm on a Friday. We had the rest of Friday, Saturday, and half of Sunday to bask with our friends in hammocks with diluted sun settling on our skin through forest leaves. The utility of driving the truck 10 hours north was to allow us to comfortably traverse the last 2 miles of high clearance road comfortably. And we did. The campground was already popping. People were playing slop-ball, and out during 4wheel drive ATVing in their afternoon activities. We had enough time to set up our tent and start cooking our fancy camp dinner. Our puppy soaked up attention.

The next day we chased waterfalls, jumping into ice ponds. I was that guy who wanted to strike up deep heartfelt conversations with strangers.

We had a campfire.

The next day heather guided us from Johnsville to Truckee to do a half day climb. The photos generated from this excursion were gorgeous. Every photo taken from the low altitude cliff showed Donner lake in the background. The approach was good. It was worthwhile for the view.

The trip was an experience that 16 year old maria would have epitomized. Without wise parental guidance, I could sneak across the country and just hang with my friends on a whim on a three day weekend. Because life at the end of the rainbow should be fun, and suffering for the sake of striving has to stop somewhere. But that’s where we are now, awake and realizing that these days have to stop somewhere.

It is the longest trip I’ve taken in my life with the fewest objectives, but I would say I was more focused on my goals than ever. I have never appreciated my friends more now and felt the furthest from them.

From Donner Pass, we headed south to south Lake Tahoe, where we receded for one week, reentering the workplace responsibility, diligently, and virtually where we disguised ourselves as adults until the next weekend.