On the Road: The Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road."

~Jack Kerouac

The Mojave Desert

On Wednesday, the Merry Husband and I packed up the Subaru and drove up Highway 395 through deserts and forests, valleys and mountains.  The highway bisects little frontier towns like Lone Pine, Independence, Bishop, and Bridgeport.  I half expected to see the ghosts of Jack Kerouac and his Dharma Bums eating slices of apple pie in road-side diners or hitchhiking to the next outpost of civilization.

Lone Pine

Kerouac and his friends used these towns as base camps for their hikes through the Sierra mountains.

At 14,505 feet, Mt. Whitney (left) is the highest peak in the Lower 48.

We sped past Manzanar, where over 100,000 Japanese Americans (including several of my aunts and uncles) were interned during World War II.  

A watchtower at Manzanar.

We had a lovely lunch at Whiskey Creek in Bishop, and stopped to admire the view at Lake Crowley.  Then, all at once, we were surrounded by trees.

We took a detour to Mammoth Lakes, where the ski slopes were packed.

And another to Silver Lake, where it seemed we were the only people in the world.

Finally, we arrived in Incline Village, on the shores of Lake Tahoe, just before sunset.

In Los Angeles, it's so easy to forget just how close and accessible the wild places are.  Today at lunch, the Merry Husband and I wondered why we don't go to the National Parks more often.  I think Big Sur is calling.