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June 28: Lake Tahoe Lake Tahoe makes up for its lack of a suicide table with scenery. And I like scenery, so forget the table.... We'd been getting up pretty early (it got light relatively early for me, and I was still a little attached to EST, I think) and watching about half and hour of the Nazi Channel (a.k.a. the History Channel) or so, and thus we got a good start and made it out of the house before nine. After a pit stop at a convenience store for breakfast (raw Pop Tarts) and road food (gummy worms for me, sunflower seeds for Arlene) we took U.S. 395 down through Carson City and west to Lake Tahoe and headed south around the lake on U.S. 50. It took a little more than an hour to make it that far, including a stop at a strange Carson City motel sign (see below). The first stop at the lake was at Zephyr Cove and the dock of the M.S. Dixie, a paddleboat that takes people on tours of the lake. But for two hours and $24 we decided we could do other things. Like walking along the beach adjacent to the dock. There was neat two-toned sand, strange rock formations (natural and man-made), fuzzy weed-like plants evidently adapted for arid conditions but growing in abundance on the lakeside, and the lake and the mountains to look at. A large field of glacier-delivered boulders were strewn along a spit that westward out into the lake, and naturally I had to climb around on them and stick my feet in the water to see if it was really that cold. It was. The lake is at alpine elevations, and its water doesn't get above 68 degrees. After the interlude at the beach and rock jungle, we headed along the shore, stopping briefly for lunch from a Safeway deli and a look-see at a small parking-lot crafts market. Then we continued, passing the casinos of Stateline and driving on, stopping only at an overlook near a public beach to snap a picture of the four-toned water...and at mini golf! It was another of the courses owned by the same company as our first golf expedition: Magic Carpet Mini Golf. This time we played the "fairy tale" course (the company offered three or four different courses to play; the first one we'd run into featured a poppuri of strange things: the elephant, a spider, and more). This course came with Jack and the Beanstalk, a giant shoe, and a sixth hole that we couldn't find. Turned out, it wasn't there. They were rennovating and hadn't put it in yet. So if you're ever in South Lake Tahoe and are looking for golf, count the holes first. And oh yeah, I lost. Got my butt kicked. On the west side of the lake, the scenery changed. After emerging from the west side of South Lake Tahoe, we started looking for the U.S. Forest Service Information Center, which was just on the other side of the town, the guidebook said. And it was, but we took the scenic route, stopping several times at other likely looking places before finding the right turn-off. At the information center was a keen little loop trail that followed Taylor Creek for a short ways, through a glen of aspens (I think) and skirting a meadow. At one point, the trail ducked underground for a stop at a salmon observation chamber, a room with a glass wall built against a small pool fed by the stream. While there weren't any migrating at the moment, there were several trout loitering in the pool. The rest of the walk went through more trees and past another meadow, and we saw several least chipmunks, a ground squirrel, and steller's jays. A little farther up S.R. 89, the road sloped uphill and wound along the crest of a (very) narrow ridge between Lake Tahoe to the east and Cascade Lake to the west. The view was great, but later, at a park visitor center, I saw a picture of the narrow road on the narrow ridge and was impressed I hadn't made a panic grab at the dashboard. We stopped at Emerald Bay State Park, home to a scenic overlook and the lake's only island, Fannetta Island, which in turn is home to a tea house built by an eccentric San Franciscan in the 1920s. She also built a mansion called Vikingsholm, which you can visit by walking a mile down steep stairs (and, as the guidebook said, two miles back up); maybe next time. There's also a wooden lighthouse—I mean, a lighthouse on a lake that's not a Great Lake? interesting—that may need visiting if I ever get the chance. After the obligatory stop at Emerald Bay State Park's overlook, and a visit to its stinky pit toilet restroom, we found a different trail just up the road at D.L. Bliss State Park that led to Balancing Rock, a huge boulder that's slowly being eroded in the middle, so that the top portion is balancing on the bottom. It's also been worn away so that it looks incredibly smug, and a small pine is growing out of its "mouth." The pine is a tree that commands respect: despite being only a few feet tall and not very fat trees go, it's a kind of nature-made bonsai, being stunted and formed by the elements. And it is probably over one hundred years old, having carved out a living from the rock's granite for decades. Back on the road, north of the state parks, more land was privately owned by, it must be, well-off cottagers from Sacramento, San Francisco, and California in general. All of which makes sense. As the tourists came east to vacation on the lake, they, like windblown seeds and other diaspora, would lodge on the first surface they came into contact with—and like seeds that land on rich ground and grow into trees, these people lodged on the lake's west shore and grew houses. Finding a grocery store was somewhat challenging, but we did, and got a drink and the Best Cherries I've Ever Had West of the Mississippi (though they may also have been the only cherries I've had west of the Mississippi). The all-time honors go to a grove in upstate New York, just because I got those off the tree, but these were spectacular as cherries go. Not a bad one among them. I rode along the creepy guard rail-less road spitting cherry pits out the window. By that time the sun was slanting in its yellow-ish late-afternoon way and we'd made it to North Lake Tahoe...where there was more mini golf! From the same franchise! More golfing ensued, and that day was not my golf day. I sucked, and I lost again. Okay, I lost by two points each time, but still, the all-time record was getting alarmingly lopsided. Then, bushed after a long day, we finished the loop, arriving where we began, and got back after seven. That evening we watched Iron Monkey, which if you haven't seen, you should, while eating a sub—I finally remembered what we did for dinner that night!—we'd got at the Safeway but had kept putting off eating.
En Route The view from U.S. 395 to Carson City, through which one passes on the way to Lake Tahoe.
Why Not to Stop Here In lively Carson City (home of almost nothing of interest) is a motel with a strange advertising strategy.
More Sand A little mini-creek ran from the pinewoods to the beach. Here also you can see the strange, sparkly black sand that was peppered in with the tan granitic (a vocabulary word from California State Parks) sand. It was thicker in some places than others, and usually came in a solid top coat which, if you dragged your fingers along over it, revealed that it was only icing over the more mundane tan sand. We never learned why it was there, although we did miss stopping at a state park just after we turned onto the road skirting the lake; the park boasted, according to my National Geographic Scenic Drives book, caves made from volcanic rock that were formed by waves, so maybe the dark black sand was volcanic.
Actual Lake Yes, we did look at the lake, not just the sand, which is really just glamorized dirt. The M.S. Dixie is the name of the paddleboat in the background. Note also the houses built up the side of the hill.
Lichen I continue my computer wallpaper-suitable photo series. The boulders that littered the shoreline had patches of this orange lichen growning on them. Several other kinds of lichen, including black lichen and green lichen, were spotted that day, but this was the only one captured on film.
Rocks and Clear Water The water in Lake Tahoe (seen as exceptionally pellucid in the foreground) is so clear that in places you can see objects as deep as seventy-six feet beneath the surface. Of course here the water is a little shallower, and everywhere the lake's clarity is decreasing. Hence the "Keep Tahoe Blue" bumper stickers that populate shoreline vehicles.
Lake and Mountains This will give you some idea of how big Lake Tahoe is.
More Lake And it's looking still bigger. This was taken south and west of Stateline, on the California side. Note some of the bathers aren't people, but Canadian geese. Also note the three different shades of blue visible on the lake.
Some Flowers The trail that led to Taylor Creek and salmon and trout observation point started in a sparse forest of (we think we were right about this) jeffrey pines and scrubby ground-hugging plants. I liked the yellow ones.
Meadow The reason Lake Tahoe is so clear is that nutrients and silt debris are filtered from the creeks and streams that feed into it by marshes. Building and other human intereference loosens too much dirt and fodder for algae blooms. The trail passed through wooded areas as it sloped downwards and came to an opening onto this meadow, where we saw several red-winged blackbirds.
Where's Bambi? The trail ducked back into a grove of aspen. These were particularly attractive trees, especially since they were far enough off the trail that no one had carved their name in them.
Cold, Cold Water Taylor Creek, the stream that the trail followed. Just next to this bend in the waterway was the underground fish observatory. We saw some speckled trout in it (I think). In the fall, however, salmon will run up it. I know the water is cold because I put my hands in a creek at the balancing rock trail, and they felt like ice for minutes afterwards.
More Flowers Purple ones this time.
The Mountain that Got Religion Apparently it's something of a deal that the snow melts in the shape of a cross. It's also just plain pretty, even without the religious connotation.
Cathedral That's what looking up at big sucker trees growing together like this reminds me of. Or of looking up the trees' skirts. Take your pick. These trees were ones we parked under at the Emerald Bay overlook.
50s Tree This tree, also at the overlook, has a flat top haircut.
What's a Fannetta? Whatever the significance of the word Fannetta, this is Fannetta Island. It's been known by other names through the years, as people have visited, but this is the name that stuck. The name Emerald, however, obviously comes from the green patches of water. Ooooh.
Yet More of Lake Tahoe I'm still shooting pictures from the Emerald Bay overlook.
Smug Rock The reward for a short walk uphill is Balancing Rock, which also looks intolerably smug. It must know something.
Guard Rail? The road often felt it didn't need no steenkin' guard rail, which was probably an accurate assessment, as a speeding car would more than likely just plow a hole in the railing and keep on going.
Scenic Carson City U.S. 395 is spit out through a mountain pass, affording this lovely view of the city. Well, I'm trying to make it sound good.... This is also a vivid example of how quickly the landscape changed its appearance as one descended from high elevations.
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