If I Had It To Do Again

A few posts back I opined that if I had to make the move all over again to Bass Lake, I would.

I still love the Sierra foothills just as much as the first day I set foot here, and in some ways more. This land has been so good to me. Through the years I've worked at great jobs, volunteered at organizations who've made me feel like I've contributed to their mission and lived on properties that have sung to my soul. I've met people who've made a big difference in my life.

But, knowing what I know now, I think I might just do things differently. I think, if I could, I'd move to Bishop. It's another place that has romanced me from the very first. The views of the Sierra Crest to the west and the White Mountains to the east are awesome from any place in town. I love the taste and tenor of the community. It is small town par excellance. I love having the ability to walk from one end of town to the other, gaping in storefronts as I go.

Spellbinder Books
Galen Rowell's Mountain Light Gallery
Sierra Mountaineering International
A plethora of coffee shops and restaurants just begging the walker to stop and indulge for a few minutes.

Another small town that calls my name is Bridgeport. Although I've driven through it on a number of occasions, I've never stopped for so much as a Coke. But what I've seen has always intrigued me. In fact there's a house north of town that I think has my name on it.

For the past two or three years I've carried on a love affair with the Eastern Sierra. There is something magnificent, and so different, about that side of the Range of Light. Something stark, stern, foreboding, in a way. They seem to rise to their full 10,000+ foot height in one fell swoop. No baby steps there, unless you count the Alabama Hills. I don't. To me, the Alabama Hills are the "old men" of the mountains, worn and spent, making way for the younger generation behind them.

So many trails, not enough time. So many nooks and crannies up and down the Highway 395 corridor to explore. There are those who have said that Highway 395 is boring, but to me there isn't an inch of it that I don't adore, from Olancha all the way up to Reno. Lone Pine, Independence, Big Pine, Bishop, Lee Vining/Mono Lake, off-the-beaten-path Bodie, Bridgeport, Walker, Coleville, Topaz Lake, Carson City. Each one has its own special beauty.



I haven't explored all of the west side, not by a long shot. Many new trails call my name, but the eastern Sierras sing a siren song, enticing me ever back.