Black Rock Desert (Washoe County, Nevada)

This trip had nothing to do with hiking and everything to do with an exercise in freedom. The Black Rock Desert is a strip of completely flat, completely lifeless land North of Gerlach, NV. It is approximately 120 miles long running north to south and 15 miles wide. This area is the site of the pagan summer festival known as “Burning Man” and was the location of the most recent land speed record run.

I find a launch point and drive out onto the white, sandy playa. I’ve been told that driving on the surface when it is wet is a sure way to be the talk of the office after having your truck airlifted out of the muck. Understandably, I proceed with caution. I’m amazed at how comfortable my truck seems on this terrain. I accelerate to 40; to 50. I accelerate still more to 60; now more . . . 70 . . . 80! Eighty miles an hour with no road in site and no rhyme or reason to the path I’m driving. I veer, I swerve, no need to worry about obstacles here. This must be what space is like.

To continue that analogy, I notice that there is absolutely no echo when I speak, after stopping to take a few photos. I pack the camera, and proceed to start looking for a way back onto the road. This is only the first stop of a long weekend.

Kayaking from Sand Harbor (Washoe County, Nevada)

Sand Harbor, on the Northwest Shore of Lake Tahoe is an idealistic destination for a novice kayaker, such as myself. The Sandy beach, which acts as a terrific launch point is covered by white granite grains, a bit larger than white sea sand, but with a comfortable texture to walk on nonetheless. So alien does this white beach appear in this alpine setting with snow-capped mountains in the distance, that I had to ask my companions, Jason and Craig, if it had been man made or if it was natural. Natural they both replied with a proud smile.

The famed water of the Caribbean cannot possibly be any bluer or any more clear than the cold waters of Lake Tahoe. After launching, but still within the boulder-filled harbor, I am amazed to be able to see the lake bottom at a depth of fifty to seventy-five feet. If not for the frigidness of the water, I would be tempted to dive in and practice my non-existent scuba skills.

Pathways through the large granite boulders provide an amateur obstacle course for practicing my maneuvering techniques. I manage my way through with few collisions and we continue down the shoreline.

At about half-a-mile, we encounter the antiquated Thunderbird Lodge, a holdover from days past and a popular site of local weddings. The grounds are practically littered with small boathouses and servant’s quarters, all surrounding the main stone structure. When this served as a private residence many years ago, how lucky the inhabitants must have been to awaken to this view of the lake.

We continue on darting away from and toward the shoreline in alternating coves for some more obstacle course practice. I stop to take a couple of shots with my trusty camera, after fiddling with my spray skirt and the waterproof box that contains my valuables.

Around the next point, we reach Chimney Beach, so names for the lone remnant of the former structure placed on this sandy shore and boxed in by vehicle-sized pieces of granite. The local wildlife and remaining tenants of this home-that-was, a group of six or seven chipmunk-lie creatures, come out to beg for some of our nutritious snacks. As I comment about the tameness of these chipmunks, which are now within inches of us, I am corrected and informed that the little miscreants are actually a small shore-tailed form of squirrel. We clean up our trash and that of some former visitors and begin to make the long trek back to our launch point.

The waves here are not only as blue as the sky, but seem to contain no smaller ripples within, as jiggling gelatin in a desert dish.

In total, we paddled approximately three miles and my arms are somewhat sore, but what a marvelous day. This must be the most beautiful lake on the face of the Earth.