Back in September Franklin and I took a drive back up to one of our favorite spots, the Lakes Basin area up in the Sierras. Pine trees and granite boulders and lots of little towns along twisty Highway 49. Stopped outside Nevada City to swim, then found a pretty little campground with no one around and made Loganville our home for the night.
Didn't mind helping ourselves to a little free firewood courtesy of The Lure Resort. From the looks of their pile, we're fairly sure they still made it through the winter.
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Day 1
Pretty neat having the whole campground to yourself. Nothing but the breeze and the gurgling of a stream down in the valley below.
Fall colors look so nice.
Our destination, Packer Lake Lodge.
I have expounded upon my love for floating platforms many a time, but that's a sight that gets me every time. A lake, a swimming platform, a duck; it's all I really need.
Our cabin, the aptly titled Duck Inn. It only took 24 hours of me cracking up every time Franklin whacked his head on the super low porch beam before I slammed my forehead so hard I saw stars. Duck Inn...no joke.
Tried our hand at catching dinner, but to no avail.
At least we were amply provisioned. Everything tastes good off a grill.
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Day 2
Another warm morning called for immediate swimming. Kicked the ducks off the platform and cleaned things up a bit. Swim, snack, spritz and read.
Back on land Franklin made friends with the locals.
Between the cabins, the lodge and the docks I was in rustic wooden heaven. Minus, perhaps, our very chatty neighbor who's combination of booze/weed/qualudes/? armed her with the freedom to spill the tremendously romantic story of how she and her high-socked, sweat-shorted Clamper friend had met in a post office and eloped up here to the mountains, leaving behind his unsuspecting wife and her broken down camper van. Gems: "I'm a gypsy" (flourish of silver-bangled wrists and ample peep of leapard bra) followed by "She's crazy---I hope my wife never finds out..."
Still, they were better than the packs of childern I imagine would take over during the summer season. Kids hardly ever offer me a joint these days.
Day two of dinner patrol, but still no takers.
While our flies were quite handsome, the trout preferred orange Power Bait, which I can only assume is something akin to a Cheeto drenched in Sparks. No kidding, it must've been fish crack as the lady next to us caught 6 in the span of an hour and a 10 year old kept throwing his throwing his back as if they were no big whoop and people weren't starving a mere boat length away. What happened to the fish our grandparents caught? Did we ruin them with our childhood chunks of hotdog, so that now they won't nibble for less than the fish equivalent of a Big Mac? I am refusing to give in....yet.
Even not catching fish is pretty awesome when you get a boat to do it from. In the end our Clamper buddy who, I shit you not, was fishing with a line tied to a goddamn twig off the back of his boat, gave us one of his stash.
Quite a pretty little fish, and tasty too.
Another warm evening in our home sweet home. Yes, I still want a cabin very, very much.
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Day 3
Said so long to Packer Lake and headed back down the 49 where it proceeded to raise in temperature at an almost equal rate to the fall in elevation. Thankfully, it's a roadway laden with two kinds of watering holes.
Can't wait til its swimming season again...
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Planning for summer already? From the city, the Lakes Basin area is about 4 1/2 hours of car time but we always take a slightly longer route, veering off on Hwy 49 towards Nevada City, then winding along up through the hills and breaking up the drive with lots of eating and swimming. Two years ago we spent a few days at Elwell Lakes Lodge, which was also gorgeous---I've yet to see a spot up there that's not, which is probably why it's so hard to get in during the typical June-August "summer" season. Lucky for us, we know Septembers the real summer...