Location: California 395 South
We live in world of relentless change. Most of us work our days away in the hopes that our vacation time we have been saving up for will whisk us away. For one week we will be able to getaway to a paradise, leaving behind the responsibilities we have accumulated. I remember hearing a person before I left on the streets outside the bookstore say, “I just want to do something good with my life and not being paid just to work.”
Isn’t that what we all want? To live for our passions and dreams? It has taken me some time but as my life progresses I am learning that I want to work for this type of change. I want to do something more with my life. This was the beginning. This trip would enlighten me to so many levels and would remind me of the goals I wanted to achieve and the amount of steps I would take towards it. It would not be easy, but I was willing.
From the top of the Sierra Nevada mountains Arizona and I travelled down highway 395 as we headed to Owens Valley. Originally we had planned to take a right past Mono Lake and head to Yosemite for a week. But, things changed. T2 needed to stay behind on this trip and honestly it was the unknown that Arizona and I both craved.
With each mile towards Owens Valley I have taken in the past few years I know that this is the one place I always want to come back to. The natural world that surrounds the small towns here always leaves me in awe. The two hour drive towards Death Valley from 395 always calls to me. Only this time we would head past into the unknown. I travelled to home to begin my journey.
Heading in we stopped at a rest area for a short nap under the star crested skies. The mountains were mere shadows under the moon’s light. We awoke to the splendid sight of the sun rising over the Sierras, swooping down the trails etched in the landscape by erosion and human. The moon, stubbornly hovers over the iconic view for one last glance before departing. The local magpies were quick, begging this morning for scraps from a croissant I ate. A few hopped around, years and generations of people feeding them crumbs, leaving behind scraps have caused this breed to forget their natural foraging instincts. Although they had no problem handing around the garbage cans.
We continued onward to the Bristlecone Pine forests. One of the many lands of ancients on the west coast. Like the towering redwoods of Northern California these forests are some of the oldest trees in the world. Some have survived thousands of years with their germination beginning in three thousand BCE or so. We stopped at a particular vista, as Arizona and I excited Lady we caught the beauty the world can provide.
The peaks of the Sierras graced the skies. With the specks of Bishop, CA down below I also saw to my left beginning ridges of Death Valley, calling out to me beyond the storms of shale that ran along the Earth. The vibrant hues filtered through my sunglasses creating a breathtaking display. I could not escape the wind that kissed my cheeks, pushing me to explore more. Only now we were onward to Barstow and from there the state of Arizona. Here I was escaping on the frames of what my passions would bring.
*View of the Vista towards the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest*