San Francisco; Journey's End

3659 miles after we left Washington DC, we finally crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and arrived in San Francisco.

We felt elated as we stood at the vista point overlooking the bridge.  Of the 13 days which we had spent driving across the USA, the last one was the most demanding.

We had become used to traffic-free, straight roads over the last few days.

The journey from Yosemite to San Francisco was a shock to the system as, firstly, we managed to completely lose the main roads and ended up driving through miles and miles of continuous vineyards on bumpy back roads.

Eventually, we came to Modesto and rejoined the main route up towards Sausolito and to the Golden Gate.

The traffic was horrendous as we got nearer the city.  The driving became more aggressive than we had seen for the entire trip.  Part of us yearned to be back in the straightforward plains.  But the sense of achievement as we looked down on the Pacific Ocean as it lead into the Golden Gate strait was immense.

As we stood by the bridge, a turkey vulture flew over it and circled us, before heading back across the bay.  How prophetic was that?  We had been seeing the vultures across Nevada and, it seems, we actually did follow one.

We settled into San Francisco and explored Alcatraz, which was well worth a visit.  It was interesting to learn about the Native American occupation which took place for around 18 months.

The intention was that the first thing that people sailing into the bay would see, would be "Indian land". There is still evidence of the peaceful occupation visible today, as in the scenes below.

The story of the escape was fascinating, involving the use of 3 false heads which they left in their beds whilst they entered secret tunnels.

San Francisco's attractions and history are well documented.  All we would say is that, if exploring the fisherman's wharf area, a visit to the Boudin bakery is an absolute must.  We know- we went twice today!  Dodgy pic through a reflective window but the bread is amazing.  Sourdough using San Francisco fog!

So that's the end of our roadtrip!

The Mustang proved to be supremely comfortable and never missed a beat.  We shall miss it.

We shall also miss all the characters we have met on our journey.  Some that have featured in this blog, such as the singing Wizard of Oz tour guide in the ruby slippers.  Some that haven't, such as the man in Independence, Missouri, who dreamed that one day he would go to Bootle.  Or the smallest cowboy in the world, in Eureka, Nevada.

We were always asked why, on our way across America, we had chosen to go in to a particular small bar in a small town.  The truth is, that we hadn't chosen to.  We had just found them.  And they are just as important a part of what this country is, as are the major towns we have visited.

We had seen America from a new perspective, from the centre of government to the tiny settlements which all fall under one umbrella.

In the Capitol building, each state was invited to donate 2 statues to represent their state.  The only rules were that they had to be made of bronze or marble, and the person honoured had to be dead.

Each state chose their representative statues democratically.  One was chosen after a campaign by a scout group which gained public support.

We've been working on our own version, of people who should be honoured in each state that we've visited, for positively contributing to our roadtrip.

We'll conclude the list for our final blog entry on the way home.

But that's for next time.

For now, we need to celebrate our trip.  

Washington DC, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Colerado, Utah, Nevada and California.

All human life is here.  

And it's amazing.  :0)

I've Been Through The Desert In A Ford With No Name

Day 12.  The penultimate leg of our journey from Capitol Hill to the Golden Gate Bridge, brought us from Lake Tahoe to Yosemite Valley.

This is where we have to do a little bit of time travelling.  Due to the lack of wifi in Yosemite, we weren't able to publish the blog until now.  So, if you know what happened next, please forget about it until our next post!

So, as far as you're concerned, we're in Yosemite valley.  With the bears.

Our stop in South Lake Tahoe, just over the stateline into Caliornia, was fabulous.

It was the stage at which we bade farewell to our faithful friend, Highway 50, which had carried us all the way from Washington DC.

Upon leaving Lake Tahoe, we backtracked along the 50 for a while, as far as Carson City, before heading South towards Lake Mono, towards the Tioga Pass, which would then take us into Yosemite.

We didn't see any evidence of the forest fires which are prevalent in much of California at the moment. We had been warned that the air quality would be poor, but we couldn't really tell.

The drive to Lake Mono was straightforward.  The mountain views were stunning, as we  headed south through Mono Valley, past the occasional tumbleweed.  Except for a spooky stop off.

We took a diversion along a long, windy and steep road which, after 10 miles, became a very windy, very steep and very unmade road for the last 3 miles, before we came to Bodie.

Bodie is a ghost town in the Sierra Nevada mountains, at an elevation of 8379 feet.

It began life as a mining camp following the discovery of gold in 1859.  This eventually led to Bodie becoming a Wild West boomtown.  By 1879, there was a population of 5000-7000 people, and around 2000 buildings.  In 1890, it was California's third biggest city.

Other gold strikes nearby became more profitable and the population declined.  The railway was closed and the last mine closed in 1942.

Much of the town was destroyed by fire, but the buildings that remain are exactly as they were left.  Shelves still stocked.  It is as if everybody has just left.

It was renowned as being a rough town, with frequent killings and a severe climate.  It is said that a 10 year old girl wrote in her diary, upon learning that her family were moving there, "Goodbye God.  I'm going to Bodie."

The place has a powerful atmosphere.  When we visited, the wind was howling and whipping up dust which stung our faces and blew grit into our eyes.  It was hard to stand upright in the strong winds.  The sounds were of signs swinging and creaking in the gale, just as it would have been in the old days.

There are all sorts of tales about people who have taken souvenirs from the town, such as a rusty nail or a rock, who have sent them back complaining that they were cursed with bad luck.  So we left everything exactly where it was, thank you!  

It's hard to imagine a place where it is possible to imagine life in the Wild West of the gold rush era.

Anyway, after making the Mustang suffer along the rocky road back, we resumed on our way to Yoesmite.

The Mustang.  It has resisted all attempts to name it.  We thought of Sally.  Too obvious.  Muzzy?  Nope.  He is just called Mustang.

His formerly pristine face is now encrusted with dead flies, mud and grit from the trials of the previous 11 days hard slog.  His suspension is groaning under the challenge of some of the rougher roads travelled.  There's a faint smell of oil after strenuous effort and from carrying extra weight.    But, I have to say, Col has been an excellent navigator.

We passed by the stunning Mono Lake and came to the Tioga Pass.

After a few miles of spectacular mountains and huge cliff faces, we arrived at the gates of Yosemite Narional Park.

We had assumed that this was journey's end.  We had reserved a tent in the valley.  We were surprised to learn from the ranger that our tent was a further 2 hours drive away.  Like everything else on this trip, the sheer scale of the place is amazing.

The pass gradually took us down to the flat floor of the valley, through which the Yosemite Creek gently flows.

The pine trees are dwarfed on all sides by the towering peaks, such as El Capitan and Half Dome.  It is a fantastic place to be.

As long as you're not scared of bears.

Or mountain lions.

The warnings are everywhere, particularly about the bears.

After Lake Tahoe, we had become accustomed to sharing the bears' territory.  We followed the rules to the letter.  No food in the tent.  Everything secured in the bear proof lockers, etc.

We didn't see any bears.

It's a bit disconcerting, though, to answer nature's call in the middle of the night, listening for strange rustling in the bushes and wondering whether something scary is lurking next to you.

But all was quiet.

But we did see a couple of raccoons, lots of deer and we were awoken by the sound of coyotes in the valley.

But mountain lions?  Who knew that they were 9 feet long and weigh 200 lbs?  Not us.

We rose early this morning to hike to Mirror Lake.  But the sign we came to made us think twice.  There was nobody else around and Col confirmed that he had no intention of keeping calm or fighting back.  He felt that we would discover what colour adrenalin was.

So we stuck to the road instead.  But it was still a fantastic place to explore.

This was our last wilderness before heading to San Francisco and it was brilliant.

So, our next stop would hopefully be San Francisco itself, via the Golden Gate Bridge.

What could possibly go wrong?

See you at the bridge! :0)

California Dreaming

After 3122 miles, 13 states, no visits to McDonalds or any coffee chains, 2 puddings, and 11 days of driving, we have made it to California.  I am writing this blog entry from the Sunshine State.

Only just, though.  Nevada is about, erm, 30 yards away and we have to head back that way tomorrow!

We've had a day of massive contrasts, where we have covered the remainder of The Loneliest Highway and we have now returned to civilisation.  And traffic. We haven't had a traffic jam, or even a queue, since Cincinatti.

So, our day began in Eureka, Nevada.  After a rest day yesterday, we set off early across the biggest expanse of wilderness of our entire trip.

We crossed mountain range after mountain range.  Initially the landscape between Eureka and the next town, Austin, was desert scrub.  Very arid soil conditions limiting the variation in plants and trees.

We made several stops along the way, to check out the Pony Express trail, at Cold Springs, as well as more petroglyphs- despite the disastrous consequences last time!

The pony express station was an interesting stop.  The pony express is such a legendary image, with the young rider galloping at full speed across the desert, coat flapping behind him.  In truth, the service only ran for a very short period of time, due to the introduction of the transcontinental telegraph service and the completion of the railway.

The pony express could deliver documents over 2000 miles within 10 days.  It could not compete with the telegraph line, which could do it in 10 seconds.  Within 4 days of the telegraph service opening, the pony express went bust.

Despite its short lived existence, it is an iconic image of the old west and it was atmospheric to stand on the spot where the station master would wait for the young rider to appear, always fearful of Indian attack.  At this particular station, the keeper had been killed by an Indian raid.

Now there is only the ruins of the pony express station, alongside the ruins of the telegraph station which brought about its demise.

We pressed on to Austin, which is a small town nowadays.  It had once been the second biggest town in Nevada at the height of the gold rush, but the mine had soon run dry and closed.

There is now little other than a couple of motels and diners, as well as some quirky galleries.

After we left Austin, there was the longest stretch of emptiness, towards the larger town of Fallon.  Around 110 miles, punctuated only by a site of more indian petroglyphs and the famous shoe tree.

The petroglyphs were fascinating, including rock indentations which are thought to date back 7000 years.

The shoe tree was a different kettle of fish entirely.  Thought to have begun when the first pair was thrown up onto the tree by a couple during a wedding night argument, followed later by their children's shoes, more people added their own footwear.

The original tree was cut down by vandals in 2011, but a nearby 'sister' tree has taken on the role.  To be honest, we felt a bit uneasy there.  A feeling only surpassed on this trip by our visit to Big John's Bar in Missouri!

We moved on.  The landscape turned to desert, charged by the distant smoke from forest fires, before we arrived in Fallon.

From then on, the loneliest highway became regularly puncuated by small towns, all the way to Dayton- claim to fame is that Arthur Miller and Marylin Monroe used to frequent one of the bars whilst filming The Misfits there.

After Dayton, things became more built up and we soon arrived in Carson a City, from where a short hop over the mountains brought us to the stunning shores of Lake Tahoe.

It was amazing after days of plains and deserts to be suddenly sitting on the beach of South Lake Tahoe, with the deep blue water lapping at our feet, and flocks of Canada geese gathering in the skies above.

And a very insistent duck standing in front of us, trying to stare us out.

Disconcertingly, we are staying a couple of hundred yards from the lake shore, in a pine forest, populated by bears.  

We made our way to the town through the dark forest like a complete pair of wimps, both leaping in the air when a dog barked from a nearby garden.

But, I'm pleased to say we survived the bear territory.  For now.  Tomorrow, will be far, far worse...

And I'm more pleased to say that we survived the loneliest highway!  Tomorrow, we bid farewell to Highway 50 and head down the 395 to Yosemite.  

And more bears.

The waitress at the pizza restaurant tonight said that we shouldn't worry about the Bears, as they are really quite nice.  Armed with that thought, plus the fact that I reckon I can beat big Col over the first 100 meters, I have become relaxed.

So our journey is almost over.  2 more days before we cross the finish line at the Golden Gate Bridge.

We're beginning to reflect on our journey and what we have experienced.  We have seen America from all sorts of perspectives.  From standing by the Washington Monument in DC as President Obama flew a few feet over our heads, to the many, many small and insular communities through which we have passed.  We've been able to scratch beneath the surface in towns which, at first glance, appeared to be completely quiet.

We've had a tour of the seat of government at Capitol Hill, we've learnt about small communities harbouring racism which seemed alien to us, we've learnt about areas where there is a fear over water levels, where farmers are having to drill deeper and deeper on their land for water.  We've stood on the continental divide at the summit of the Monarch Pass in Colorado, where one side's water flows to the Atlantic and the other to the Pacific.  We've constantly met people who want to embark on a journey in the same spirit as our own, whether it be within America or in Europe.  We've learnt more about how people and communities resolve issues surrounding the history of the USA, communities which are still affected by the Civil War, communities which are affected by the Indian Wars.  (We even came across General Custer's jacket, below).

We have deliberately avoided the bright lights and big cities.  We have constantly been asked, when we have said we are travelling across America, why have you ended up here, in this basement bar?

But we have also been thanked for taking the time to visit their communities.

We've been surprised, entertained, cajoled, encouraged, educated, dismayed, amazed and amused.

Maya Angelou the African American poet and civil rights activist, said, "Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples laugh, eat, worry and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends."

See you in Yosemite.  :0)