Reno is a Beautiful Place to Leave

Friday, August 29. Day 117

Reno, NV to Yosemite National Park

Some days feel so big that a partial post in the weekly blog doesn’t properly convey the scope. 

This is the story of an uneventful day’s drive, told in three acts. 

Act one: Reno is a beautiful place to leave 

I came into Reno last night from Lassen Volcanic National Park, stopping over on my way to Yosemite. 

I scoped out a Cracker Barrel in town to park at overnight. It’s been a while since I’ve stayed at a Cracker Barrel, and it’s a hard contrast from waking up in national parks over the last week.

Pretty much wherever I go there’s always a low-key anxiety about being run off by security in the middle of the night. Considering how empty parking lot was at 10p I figured there was a good chance I was going to get a knock, and I was right. At 4am a tired but polite security guy knocked and said “I’m sorry, but you can’t be sleeping here.”

And I thought ‘well yeah, not with you knocking like that!’ But just said OK and moved on. I found a quiet residential street nearby and finished out the night without any more bother.

There were a few routes from Lassen Nat'l Park that would have taken me to Yosemite. I opted for the route through Reno to visit a friend, and made last-minute plans to meet up with her for lunch. We'd met a year ago at a Star Trek convention in Philadelphia and kept in touch. Over lunch we nerded out about Star Trek and cosplay, and caught up on our lives. 

It was a short stop and I didn’t get to see much of Reno, but between all the casinos and the florida-caliber-awful drivers I didn’t feel a great desire to linger.

Also, I’m really excited to finally be headed to Yosemite! 

When I was planning out this trip all the way back into last year, Yosemite was always an anchor destination. One of the spots I was most excited for and would not miss. And now it was a mere day’s drive away! 

Driving southbound out of the city, the mountains loomed large and majestic from the highway. As the highway wound through the outskirts of the city my view of the mountains shifted, but remained amazing in all directions. 

Reno is a beautiful place to leave.

A fair bit outside Reno the scenery changed dramatically multiple times in a half hour. From urban highway to rural by-way, then through forest and out along winding canyon roads. It makes sense that the city ends where the mountains begin, but the abruptness of it caught me off guard.

Act Two: A white knuckle ride

I was enjoying the lazy switchbacks through steep canyons and modest mountains. Lulled into thinking this was going to be an easy, pleasant drive. But that didn’t last long, in a short time I was in the mountains, climbing up Ebert’s Pass. A 60 mile stretch of the most treacherous road I’ve ever driven. (60 miles was a rough guess, so I googled it, 61 miles!)

It was two hours of narrow, steep, switchbacks snaking up and down through the mountains. 

My van handled the turns and the climbs with easy comfort. For all the frustrations I’ve had with the RV part of the vehicle, the van part is excellent.

Nonetheless, I absolutely would not have intentionally chosen to take this van on this road. And for most of the drive I was keenly aware that it was not an optimal vehicle for this kind of drive. 

Ebert’s Pass was a 2 way road, in much the same way that a '2 person tent' is really only big enough for one person and their backpack. 

It wound haphazardly up the mountain; there were no long gradual switchbacks, it was jaunty and unpredictable. I crawled carefully along at 20-25 mph.

The first close call I had was with an ancient looking VW beetle that someone either put a lot of work into looking vintage, or no work at all. It was riding very close to the ground as though it had a lowered suspension, or the suspension was just shot. I’m impressed the brakes still seemed to work well. As it passed I thought how much I'd have liked to photograph that beetle on some of those beautiful twisty roads.

Further up there were roadside signs for grizzly bear crossing, that was a first. 

No bears, though. That would have been neat. 

After what felt like an interminable amount of time weaving and twisting up the mountain I began to wonder how far this would go. Although I had no way to tell how long this adventure would last. It was probably barely a quarter of the way through at that point.

“It is what it is” has always felt like a flat platitude, and yet it’s also something that I try to embrace. I’m on this road, I have to go over this pass. It will literally either finish eventually, or I’ll die trying. (Not quite hyperbole, as I acknowledged there was a real chance.) 

Just persevere.

Qualitatively, the drive was stunningly beautiful. What little I saw. 

My attention was laser focused on the road. Scanning ahead, speeding up, slowing down, take a turn just right, look out for cars, sharp turns with steep climbs. At points my tires were mere inches from the edge of a precipice. 

It was mentally exhausting.

The second close call was about halfway through. A Ford F150 came flying around a blind corner. I’m on the outside of the turn and he comes through taking his half of the road out of the middle. I slam the brakes and pull hard right. The van is not nimble. I hear stuff in the back fall over. On this particular turn there were dense trees to my right, worst case scenario was plowing into a redwood at 15 mph.

The Ford flew by with inches to spare, and I was grateful that I’d pulled over a mile back to take a piss. 

After many miles going uphill the road settled along the ridge-line and was fairly level. Still snaking wildly back and forth, but level. I could afford glances here and there. It was beautiful. There were mirrored alpine lakes, tall pine forests, epic views, and giant stone wall faces. There were campgrounds and RV parks, huts, yurts, and countless recreational spots. I could easily imagine coming here for a remote nature vacation. If you like that sort of thing. Which I do. 

Traveling along the ridge-line for a while I was expecting the descent to begin any time now. A little bit down the road it did. Down is more challenging than up. I got into a rhythm. Then the mountain tricked me and started going back up. For a long while! Then back down. Then it opened up into a wide, two lane mostly flat road. Another fake-out! It narrowed to one (1.5) lane again and barreled down the mountain. Was this a version of hell? Beautiful scenery I couldn’t see, tense and focused on not flying off a cliff or pancaking into another car.

After what felt like an eternity the road did finally open up into large flat plains, widened into two proper lanes, and there was a fancy mountain lodge ahead. I pulled over to stretch my legs and unclench my rear. 

Act Three: Yosemite 

The evening is settling in. I still have several more hours of driving left, constantly checking when I’ll arrive. I don’t want to get there too late at night. When I get a signal I update my friend on my ETA.

The terrain has changed again. There’s golden hour light on golden grass covered hills. The hills get steeper, there’s a road sign that says “turn off your air conditioner”, I ponder that for a few moments and realize turning it off will reduce stress on the engine. Basically, prepare for a bunch of hills! It’s a good idea though, so I turn off the A/C. Wish I’d thought of that earlier (or any of the hundred times I’ve climbed steep hills in the van.)

Looking up at the myriad of hills I see cars way off in the distance on a high road and think ‘that must have been a bitch to get up to.’ Then facepalm as I realize that’s where I’m going.

The switchbacks are long and winding, but nothing nearly as treacherous as earlier. It’s a downright pleasant drive!

There’s a good hour of climbing hills and switchbacks going towards the park, every time I think I’m getting close to the park a sign reminds me that I still have 40+ miles to go. 

In my rearview mirrors I see the sun setting behind me, while ahead the last bits of light illuminate the tips of the mountains coming into view in Yosemite. 

Going up and down, winding through the hills, a Honda Odyssey jumps out and passes five cars to get in front of me. At the next turnout I pull over to let the rest of the line of cars go by.

It’s blue hour as I approach the park. Through the trees I catch glimpses of the peaks in the distance, the mountains are pale silhouettes fading into pale clouds.

The last bit of light fades from the sky just as I enter the park. A half moon is large and low and bright in the sky, adding an ethereal light that makes the trees look like giant shadowy sentinels. 

About 20 minutes later a long strings of cars go by on their way out of the park, heading back to their campsites and hotels after having watched sunset from their favorite spot.

I’m feeling good! I’m in the park! Jamming out to songs I love on my favorites mix, windows open to the cool summer air. It’s almost 9 and I’m only 1 mile from my friend’s house.

The GPS doesn’t understand the addresses inside the park and plops me down in front of a firehouse next to the residential neighborhood. I walk around awkwardly, shining my flashlight at houses to see the address numbers, which appear to be in random order. After I’ve done 3 loops of the neighborhood and feel I’m one loop away from someone calling the police, I call my friend and admit I’m lost. He comes out on his bike to fetch me and I have finally arrived!

Good: Lots of spectacular scenery to appreciate on the drive. 

Bad: A ford f150 flying around the corner on a treacherous mountain road. 

Unexpected: The length and intensity of a day spent ‘just driving.’