Finally some tubing, and then back to the Sierras to escape the heat

---

I head south, towards Lake Isabella and the Kern River area. It's Memorial Day weekend, and I see all sorts of activity on the lake. Realizing I'm close to Bakersfield and it's Yoshinoya, I head out to the San Joaquin valley and get my beef bowl fix. Then I head over to Sequoia National Park. Tourists are everywhere (being Memorial Day weekend), and the road through the park is congested for many of the parts. At Lodgepole, I do some laundry and chat with a nice British man before heading off back into the valley.

So I need to go tubing. I did buy this inner tube and all. So I head back to the Kern River area to check out my prospects there. No go- the water is too rapid (and probably too cold). Just off the Upper Kern I ask a lady about the tubing situation. She advises strongly against it, but mentions she knows a quieter spot in the river where I could perhaps wade around. She's heading that way and offers to lead me there. I follow her in my truck and she takes me to an area near a cemetery where the river widens out and is calm enough to swim in. I thank her, and after she leaves I put on my life vest and Teva sandals that I bought today and head down towards the river's edge.

I do the toe test. Way too cold, screw that. I head back to the truck and assess the situation. Googling 'tubing in Southern California' comes up with two options- Yuma, AZ and La Jolla Indian Reservation (near San Diego). La Jolla looks more fun so I head there first.

After a long drive through the Mojave Desert and then the Inland Empire, I arrive at the La Jolla Indian reservation, run by the "La Jolla Band of Indians". There I go to the La Jolla campground where the San Luis Rey River runs through. It's late though, so I first park for the night behind a closed gas station/convenience store near the campground. The next morning, after eating breakfast at a local casino, I make my way back to the campground. I pay the $10 day use fee and park and inflate my inner tube. I start the long walk up the river to the entry point when a truck with some kids drives by and offers me a ride. I accept the generous offer and hop in the back of their truck. After dropping me off, I head into the river cautiously.

It's not so much a river as a very rocky creek. I left the nylon inner tube cover in the truck, but now I'm thinking that was a bad move, as that cover had the handles, which I am now desperately needing. The rapids repeatedly cause me to fall out of the inner tube and into the water, more often than not into some rocks. Doesn't help much that I'm drinking copious amounts of wine as I cruise along. This continues for about 45 minutes when I float by the campsite of those kids who gave me a ride. Bruised up pretty good, I yell at them, "This place is f*cked up!". They say to take a break and come have a beer. I comply. Pretty cool people- 3 guys (Willy, Alex, and ?) and 1 girl (Gabe). I chat with them for awhile. There's a rope hanging from a tree which I climb up. Willy also climbs up and then hangs from the branch its tied to, causing the entire branch to break. We spend some time trying to get the rope off the edge of the nub where the branch split, all the while I'm getting fairly sloshed. After this the memories are kind of hazy. I remember floating down the river again, totally drunk, getting banged up real bad by the rapids, and some stranger seeing me on the self destructive path and helping me out of the river. I must have then walked back up to the kids' campsite again after that. The kids then said they were leaving, iirc, and so I walked back to my truck, which thankfully wasn't too far away. In my truck, I passed out in the driver's seat, and woke up after 8pm.

I leave the indian reservation, heading south towards the Salton Sea and eventually Yuma, AZ. Somewhere on the way to the Salton Sea I pull over at a closed tiny airport terminal off the side of the road and cook up some hot dogs. Continuing on, I park for the night next to a huge stack of hay in some farm road somewhere south of the Salton Sea. It's been a weird day.

The next morning I continue on, riding through the desert and some serious sand dunes and eventually make it to Yuma, AZ. It's super hot here- at least 100 degrees. I make a reservation for the river tubing for the next day and then hit a local German restaurant and get some schnitzel (first time) and some cherry strudel. Then I watch Macgruber at a local movie theatre and then hit a local "vegan fast food" place out of curiosity for dinner but only order a side of greens- collards and kale - which were atrocious. I park for the night not far from the theatre.

The next morning I go to the river and meet the local tubing outfit. I, two girls, and some elderly folk are the only ones there to tube. We all load the shuttle and are taken to the entry point. This river is much wider than the creek at the indian reservation but also much calmer- there are no rapids, just flatwater. I end up talking to the two girls while on the river. There's Francis, a 41 yo Mexican owner of a hostel (Banana Bungalow) in San Diego and her friend Paula, a pretty hot 31 yo British girl with an Irish accent (since she's half apparently). We have fun floating down the river, and at one point I even knock Paula out of her tube into the river. She kept asking me not to even when I wasn't threatening to, so I figured she wanted me to. We all hit a local bar afterwards and have some drinks and a bit of food. The girls have to continue on their road trip to Las Vegas, and I have to continue on mine to god knows where, so we hug and part ways. I head northeast to my next tubing destination- Camp Verde.

Before that though, I stop somewhere near Phoenix to hit the local gym and get some groceries. It's still super hot, to the point of discomfort. I make it to Camp Verde, park for the night, and then hit the river the next day. I'm the only one there when I get there, and the shuttle driver, a petite and grotesquely tan Quebec woman named "Hummingbird" drives me to the entry point. This river is mostly calm, with an occasional rapid. I swim most of the way through the flat water and board the tube for the rapids. Fairly boring, being alone. I get to the exit point and the tubing girl asks if I'd like another ride. I decline, "No that's enough for me today." I head back to the truck, deflate and pack up the inner tube, and just when I'm about to leave, two cars filled with hot young college age girls pull up, and they're here to tube. Damn. Should I reinflate and go? I decide against it for a number of reasons, but mainly because I'm not feeling super social since I have a little, not quite a hangover but shall we say malaise, from the drinking the last few days. I let this one go and head north to Flagstaff.

After hitting the Cracker Barrel in Flagstaff, and wrestling with how the hell you pick up a restaurant hostess (they were checking me out, I swear), I head on through the miserable >100 degree heat, over the Hoover Dam, through Las Vegas, and finally to just outside of Death Valley, where I park for the night off a 4x4 road. I want to drive through Death Valley as early in the morning as possible, since the forecast calls for 120 degrees there tomorrow.

The next morning I cruise through Death Valley, and am back in Bishop near the Sierras. The main thing that drew me here is a semi-conscience need to escape the heat. Only at high elevations can I do that, as this whole part of the country is in a heat wave. I prepare for a one-nighter backpacking trip in Sierras, on the North Fork Big Pine Creek Trail. Yes the same one as before, but it's the only one that's not snowed out, and I hear you can make it to third lake now.

Backpack goes according to plan- I make it in fact almost to Fourth Lake. I set up camp. There's absolutely no one else around. Scenery is beautiful, and the stars at night are spectacular. I even witness three shooting stars and I gaze. The only bad part is I overstuffed myself at camp trying to finish the bags of frozen veggies I brought along, both because I don't want to waste any food and also because it'll lighten my pack weight for tomorrow. I go to sleep nauseous and stuffed with veggies and a tuna sandwich.

It was fairly cold last night (~35 degrees) but tbh it's a welcome change from the heat. I pack up and head back to the truck and drive on to my next destination. Not exactly sure what it is though.

---

Photos

Sequoia Tree
It's a big tree.

Stealth Fighter
OK, I forgot to write about this part of the trip.

Broadening of the Upper Kern
Thanks for the tip Mary, but it was too cold.

Disheveled
A rough morning in the Sonoran Desert.

Sonoran sand dunes.
Sonoran sand dunes.

German restaurant in Yuma, AZ
German restaurant in Yuma, AZ

Camp Verde tubing
OK it's not me in the picture. I don't have a waterproof camera, so you get the idea.

The Hoover Dam
The Hoover Dam

Backpacking near Fourth Lake
On the Upper Big Pine Creek trail.

Dusk where I camped for the night
Can you see my tent?

Morning view from my tent
Looking down on the glacier-fed turquoise waters of Third Lake.