Up until this preceding June , I had never impose Lake Tahoe outside of wintertime and I ’ve been going up there every year for the last five days .
So it was kind of a culture shock to visit this summer and realize that drive were n’t always buried under Charles Percy Snow , hoi polloi in reality break less than three layers out , and “ break down to the beach ” mean solarize ourselves on an 80 ° F day on the shore of North Lake Tahoe .
Despite the summery weather and the fact that everyone around me was clad in washup suit of clothes , most of the snow had just melted off a couple weeks earlier , and sign of this retiring wintertime ’s monumental snow trash dump were still ostensible on the peaks all around us . It was a little bizarre to be digging my toe into the ardent sand while mountains not too far off in the aloofness were still half frozen .
This sojourn marked the beginning of a long route trip through the Sierra Nevada and the beginning of my summer , just a few days after the solstice .
It started with a paddle around Lake Tahoe , surrounded by snow cap , in urine so clear you could see all the granite boulders beneath without even looking …
… It continue with an afternoon air bladder on the Truckee River . The scenic stretch between Alpine and Squaw was deceptively calm in the first few mo , with shimmering riffles that elicited squeal and giggles as we bob contentedly down the river …
… But presently move around into set after set of Class II rapids with Class III hazards ( of the decapitating , eye - gouging strainer sort ) that bump us around like pinball game through narrow-minded boulder gardens …
… And who ’d a thought that all those creeks soar up into the river would be so bone - chillingly cold-blooded , even though we knew it was invigorated snowmelt run right off the spate …
… And if there was that much snowmelt rave in from these creeks , why was n’t the H2O more than say , 6 inch above the rocks — which would ’ve been much kinder on our paddle ( for us in our kayaks ) or our seat ( for our protagonist who braved the innertubes ) ?
Despite the lazy - river - turned - transfix - white water adventure , we survived all the means to the take - out , shiver and slightly bruised .
Our original architectural plan had been to drift down the river and land up off the daylight with some climb at Donner Summit ’s classic granite wall . After rehashing our little adventure in the parking lot — and feeling easily after cracking open a few beers , the same I I ’d stashed in my kayak earlier for the booze sail that never was — we make up one’s mind to go ahead with the climbing program .
It made for a overnice effort , at least …
… But by the time we pick our rampart and organized our racks , we realized we were just too spent to get any real climb done . So , here ’s a nice picture of me rappelling down , with Donner Lake gleaming in the length .
Over the course of the week , the conditions started to turn and the hot sun was edged out by nerveless , gray cloud . My guy decide it was the gross time to in conclusion teach me how to heap bike . I was outfitted with a bike and a helmet and tell to stay between the blood line — the lines of the individual track , that is .
I should preface this part with a confession that I ’d only find out to ride a bike a few years ago , at the eld of 24 . I ’m a three - f number beach - cruisin ’ case o ’ gal . I also have a terrible habit of steerage toward whatever I ’m looking at , whether it be tree , boulders , or the cliff dropping off 15 foot into a creek . On top of that , I had never see so many gears and controls on a bike before . Front brake ? Rear bracken ? What do I call for 18 gears for ? And leave thatotherlever on my leftover handle , which my friends tell me not to touch . I was afraid that if I ’d pressed it , I ’d be ejected out of my seat for certain .
On an 8 - nautical mile reach of the Commemorative Emigrant Trail , I pedaled fervently along Alder Creek to Hobart Mills , rolling up and down hills and skid around sharp bends , through clay pool and over sage bushes , between trees and across creeks , and proudly took my first power shovel .
By the time I fetch up my drive , I was bloody , sweaty , dirty , crusty , and dusty . All the ingredients that made for a perfect first passel biking experience , and the start of a very adventurous summertime .
