The Heart of the Wilderness

“Only by going alone in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. All other travel is mere dust and hotels and baggage and chatter.”  -- John Muir

Next time has arrived! Welcome faithful friends to the new beginning of our travel story. We begin our travels today by bidding a fond farewell to the city by the sea that has been our home these last two years [three for Mark] and setting off in search of adventure!

Unfortunately, our day did not have the best of beginnings. Although we planned on rising early and commencing our quest as soon as we were done loading the POD, we did not rise with the crowing of the roosters and finishing up the POD was more taxing than anticipated. Since I was overwhelmed by the sight of all the minutiae still to be packed, I was sent off to get the car washed and vacuumed. Upon my return we were soon underway.  A final stop to Time Warner Cable to drop off our cable boxes and we began the northerly journey.

Driving I-5 North through Camp Pendleton and past Las Pulgas Road [translated “Road of the Fleas”] one last time almost made a tear well up, but that was short-lived as we arrived at the Immigration Checkpoint at San Onofre/San Clemente. We were waved through without so much as a second glance which made me wonder what they look for that makes them decided to stop someone for a secondary check. A quick Google search on Mark’s phone granted us some insight, but did little to allay my curiosity. On we went, proceeding north through Orange County and ultimately through LA. Here begins our true adventure, as I had never been north of LA on I-5.

I-5 winds its way through the seemingly never ending San Gabriel Mountains. It is incredible when you arrive at the end of the mountains and stare into the vast expanse of the Central Valley.

[Side note: Had I known that I lived as close as we did for two years to the roller coaster mecca that is Magic Mountain, Mark and I would have made at least one visit by now. Alas, Mark shared this information with me as we sped past it going 80, never to return again.]

We reached the majestic Central Valley. Mark was more a fan of the mountain landscape than the flat dry valley set before us. Personally, I was a little awe-struck by the unending land now before us. Little did I know then that I had not truly experienced “awe-struck” and would begin to glimpse the significance of that phrase later in the day. So, flat nothingness and heat were our companions for a large portion of today’s journey. That began to change as we stopped for provisions in the adorable city of Porterville. This was the last vestige of true civilization before arriving at the day’s final destination.

Enter Sequoia National Park. I wasn’t quite sure how we were going to go from flat farmland and sparse mountains to a forest of massive sequoias, but I would soon find out. The roads leading up to the entrance “wind” their way through more farmland and mountains [I put wind in quotes because we would soon find out what that word would really mean]. Pulling up to the main south entrance of the park at 6:15 we noticed a sign informing us that our campsite was 21 miles away and had NO vacancy. The park ranger at the booth kindly shared with us that our intended residence for the night would take about an hour to reach. Twenty-one miles in an hour? Really? Our first thought was that we needed to hurry if we were going to reach the campsite with enough time to set up our tent. We would soon realize that “hurry” is not a word one can or should use when entering a national park.

Before I describe the drive, let me make two statements: 1) Much like an observation I made when driving CA 1 three years ago, this drive would have been FABULOUS in the MINI and 2) Dad, you would have LOVED it! That out of the way, we begin. Our climb to our campsite along the General’s Highway consisted of S-curves and hairpin turns on a two-lane road that skirts the edge of the mountain so closely that, if it were not for the sporadic stone walls, one false move would send the car tumbling over the side. The first sighting of a sequoia brought us to the realization that this was no ordinary park, but we’ll have more on that tomorrow. After a little over an hour of driving, including a 15 minute stop at a traffic light that regulated the flow of cars through a one lane construction zone, we arrived at the entrance booth of Lodgepole Campground.

At first glance, Mark and I were worried that we had chosen the most populated area of the park to spend the night and that we would be packed like sardines next to neighbors with which we didn’t really intend to interact. After letting Candis, that was our ranger at the station, know that we had a reservation and asking her whether or not we had reserved a good spot, we were assured that we had and I was congratulated on choosing such a great spot. Once we listened to the requisite information about camping in an area populated with bears, we were given a map indicating that our site was the furthest one from the entrance. “Lovely!” we thought and as we made our way back we were extremely pleased to discover that in fact I had chosen a perfect spot. While there are other families and tents in sites around us, all very easily seen from ours, we found ourselves positioned at the foot of a small waterfall replete with rushing river. Curbing our excitement just enough, we swiftly assembled our tent and I started our campfire while Mark unloaded the necessary items from the car. 

Our dinner consisted of hotdogs, sausages, and S’mores and it was yummy! For a pair of camping rookies we had to pat ourselves on the back. We had successfully set up our campsite and while we realized that we were not completely prepared [there are a few purchases to make before tomorrow night’s dinner that will facilitate the process] we didn’t do very poorly for first-timers. As the darkness fell, we retired to our tent for an evening of blog drafting and Sherlock [we’ve brought the entire canon to entertain ourselves]. 

So we go to bed this evening like children anxious to begin a trip we have been anticipating for nearly eight months. As the rushing river lulls us to sleep we will dream of sights yet unseen which we shall share with you tomorrow eve.