Spring in Bishop

I used to think that I was a good traveling companion, easily pleased, flexible, and good natured. But this last trip with Sally opened my eyes to my own hubris. It’s not me who is the happy traveler, it’s the companions I choose who happily acquiesce to my whims.

Sally had suggested that we do a quick two-day, mountain bike adventure to Bishop to explore the areas that she hadn’t been able to reach because she didn’t have a 4-wheel drive vehicle. I hated leaving the girls home but the idea of traveling light and staying in hotels had its appeal. I reserved a room in the old, oops, I mean historic part of the Dow Villa Motel in Lone Pine. This hotel has a colorful history having been the swankiest hotel in town during the hey days of the Western movies. The walls are plastered with old photos of movie stars who stayed in the hotel while filming in the nearby Alabama Hills.

Is this reminiscent of The Shining?

Our room was on the second floor. It was furnished with two twin beds, one of which impinged on the door opening to the hall. Since it had no bathroom, we had to traipse down the hall about a half a mile to use the toilet during the night. Luckily, I rarely sleep much on the first night away from home, so the door scraping along the end of my bed didn’t wake me up when Sally left the room in the middle of the night. The hotel was heated by an ancient steam system which didn’t allow for any adjustment. The instructions said that if the room was too warm, to open the window. Needless to say, two post menopausal women opened the window!

We appreciated this little lavatory en suite which allowed us to brush our teeth in the comfort of our own room.

After breakfast at the Alabama Hills Cafe, a destination in its own right, we drove about 50 minutes to Bishop. It was a chilly 54 degrees where we parked the car and changed into our bike clothes, but it was sunny and we figured we would warm up as we climbed. I threw a windbreaker into my pack, figuring the return downhill trip would be cool. I also assumed that Sally was carrying multiple jackets, vests, gloves and bras.

The heavy rains had turned the dirt road into an interesting trail that alternated between stream bed and sand but our E-bikes made even the loose sand rideable. As we climbed the road deteriorated, growing increasingly rocky but we persevered lured by the spectacular view of the Eastern Sierra Nevada mountains ahead of us.

This sign post provided no clue as to where we were.

We had climbed about 2,000′ when we met a man coming from the opposite direction. He told us that if we continued, we would encounter a two mile stretch of trail that was covered with snow. Clouds were gathering and we were already getting cold, so we put on all the clothes we were carrying and turned back. (Sally, uncharacteristically, wasn’t packing extra clothes.) The man, whom we named Easy on the Eyes (EotE), was running a 40 mile loop that included several thousand feet of elevation gain and loss. He invited us to stop by his gear store the next day where he would show us where to find some fun mountain bike trails. Needless to say, we prioritized the visit to his outdoor gear shop.

The White Mountains shimmer across the Owens Valley.

By now the temperature had dropped into the low forties and we were damp with sweat. The rough trail demanded our attention and a certain amount of speed to roll over the rocky stream bed. Sally fell behind and I stopped to wait for her, growing colder by the minute. When she caught up she confessed that one of the rock gardens and stopped her dead and she’d fallen over, bruising her backside. Our lips were too stiff with cold to talk and our hands were like frozen claws on the handlebars. Thankfully the road smoothed out enough that we weren’t in danger of losing our grip, though truthfully, we couldn’t be certain as we had lost all feeling in our fingers.

Back at the car, we stood in the lee of the car between the open doors to change into dry clothes. Heated seats have never felt so good!

Sally had reserved a room in another vintage motel that offered no storage room for the bikes, so we wheeled them into the tiny room for safe keeping. This room had two double beds but only one of them was fit for use, the other had a bowl-shaped mattress. I suspect someone had died in the room and the body hadn’t been discovered for some time as it was so heavily perfumed that we never did develop olfactory fatigue. This room cost twice as much as our previous night’s “historic” room.

Dig those socks?

So, this has been sitting in my drafts folder waiting for me to have enough to drink to finish it. Re-reading it, I can see that the fine line between not enough wine and having too much to wrap this trip up in one post has been crossed. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion: Luxury hotel, shopping with EotE, and another lackluster bike ride.

16 thoughts on “Spring in Bishop

  1. Interesting that you rode up from Bishop, rather than from Lone Pine (the portal to Mt. Whitney! It must be really cold up there with so much snow! And what beautiful scenery (particularly those white mountains with the rocks and bushes in front!)


    1. I’ve never been able to find any bikeable trails from Lone Pine, though I love the Portal Trail from Lone Pine Camp Grounds to the Portal for hiking. I have never seen the Sierras looking so beautiful. We spent more time photographing them than we did riding.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Motels and Hotels “of a certain age” are rarely all that. I’m sure when we travelled those historic destinations at the age of 4-6 with our parents we fail to remember then complaining except for at the time the only “decent” motel in Taos had no air conditioning in a rare heat wave. My father’s language was probably as colorful as yours over the amenities, or lack thereof. Cnn you imagine John Wayne in his boxers and wife beater pigeon toeing that hallway?


    1. John Wayne in underwear, now there’s an image I’d rather forget!
      But Taos brings up a memory of a kiva style room with heated floors. After a day of skiing, that was pure bliss.


      1. I remember Taos as a kid. The square and not too many paved streets. In fact I remember Kir Carson’s house on a narrow street surrounded by dirt alleys and roads. Heated floors are magic on cold days.


    1. Are you hoping to get a look at old Easy on the Eyes? I doubt you would find him as attractive as we did, but maybe you would if you like mature (as in graying hair and beard), super fit guys.


      1. I have never been good at identifying good looking men except when they are hard to ignore like Robert Redford or Brad Pitt. Otherwise I never understood why my mother, wife, sisters, and friends would get so excited about my cousin, my best friend, my boss, and my son’s eye doctor who apparently are all hunks. I am retroactively good looking when someone who knows me at age 75 sees my photograph from forty or fifty years ago. That is because I only carefully saved twenty of the thousands of pictures taken of me over the years


  3. Poor Sally! I hope her behind has healed up.
    So far I’m not seeing where you’re hard to travel with – can’t wait to read what lead to that declaration!


    1. I guess I’ll have to ask Sally. She never complains so I can’t guess what bugs her. She didn’t even gripe about her bruised ass other than to express chagrin over riding like a girl.

      Liked by 1 person

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