Many of the roads at higher elevations were sanded. The morning of our departure from the California Eastern high dessert it snowed; large flakes coming down wet, sticking on every tree tip and shrub. A joyous winter wonder land. Also covered in this wet snow were the highways. "Its supposed to be like this all day" we were told just as we were leaving our campground. And so it was. The high dessert was covered with so many inches of snow that the undercarriage of small, fuel efficient cars was scraping the center ridges between the two tire tracts. Yet people persisted in trying to get through, loosing control as the front end of their car was litterly lifted off the ground and the back wheels and car momentum spin the car in 360 degree donuts. Drivers terrorized by their recent loss of control would stop in the middle of the tire tracts creating road hazards and making plowing roads impossible. As Rudy, Big Red Kathy and I headed West, the Sheriff were closing one road after another behind us. When we reached Victorville, we were told highway 14 was closed going South, still open headed North towards Bakersfield CA. North we went to lower elevations and more sleet than accumulating snow. Turning West again, through active oil fields and valley orchards and cotton fields eventually we were climbing again.
No services for 79 miles read the sign as we were in the wide open spaces, rising higher and higher into the snow covered mountains. Occasional ranch houses could be seen miles away. Cattle walked narrow paths imbedded in the mountain sides; dark figures against the contrasting snow. Upward we traveled, the roads narrower, and more twisting and turning; hairpin turns were the usual, not the exception. Upward we climbed, solitary, twinkles of lights from the ranch houses. Big Red was now in its glory, shifting gears up and down to meet the road challenges, calibrating its horsepower and gear ratio to meet our assent, only to call upon all its engineering for a controlled descent. Eventually we made it over the multiple high passes and down the other side of the mountain range. The upper elevations of the highway had been sanded; the packed snow had traction. We spent the night at a "rustic" KOA campground, in reality, a lower tier trailer park. Where do people go who have lost their homes? Some at least park their trailers in a campground and pay a monthly fee. What has happened to all the campgrounds dependent on RV traffic? They have taken in weekly and monthly transients, at a discount; and so was our KOA "rustic" campground, amongst the hills and trees, rutted roads, toilets and showers in need of "maintanence", and old cars parked facing the camper, not capable of pulling the Recreational Vehicle, even this older and smaller version of the RV.
Many of the roads at higher elevations were sanded. The morning of our departure from the California Eastern high dessert it snowed; large flakes coming down wet, sticking on every tree tip and shrub. A joyous winter wonder land. Also covered in this wet snow were the highways. "Its supposed to be like this all day" we were told just as we were leaving our campground. And so it was. The high dessert was covered with so many inches of snow that the undercarriage of small, fuel efficient cars was scraping the center ridges between the two tire tracts. Yet people persisted in trying to get through, loosing control as the front end of their car was litterly lifted off the ground and the back wheels and car momentum spin the car in 360 degree donuts. Drivers terrorized by their recent loss of control would stop in the middle of the tire tracts creating road hazards and making plowing roads impossible. As Rudy, Big Red Kathy and I headed West, the Sheriff were closing one road after another behind us. When we reached Victorville, we were told highway 14 was closed going South, still open headed North towards Bakersfield CA. North we went to lower elevations and more sleet than accumulating snow. Turning West again, through active oil fields and valley orchards and cotton fields eventually we were climbing again.
No services for 79 miles read the sign as we were in the wide open spaces, rising higher and higher into the snow covered mountains. Occasional ranch houses could be seen miles away. Cattle walked narrow paths imbedded in the mountain sides; dark figures against the contrasting snow. Upward we traveled, the roads narrower, and more twisting and turning; hairpin turns were the usual, not the exception. Upward we climbed, solitary, twinkles of lights from the ranch houses. Big Red was now in its glory, shifting gears up and down to meet the road challenges, calibrating its horsepower and gear ratio to meet our assent, only to call upon all its engineering for a controlled descent. Eventually we made it over the multiple high passes and down the other side of the mountain range. The upper elevations of the highway had been sanded; the packed snow had traction. We spent the night at a "rustic" KOA campground, in reality, a lower tier trailer park. Where do people go who have lost their homes? Some at least park their trailers in a campground and pay a monthly fee. What has happened to all the campgrounds dependent on RV traffic? They have taken in weekly and monthly transients, at a discount; and so was our KOA "rustic" campground, amongst the hills and trees, rutted roads, toilets and showers in need of "maintanence", and old cars parked facing the camper, not capable of pulling the Recreational Vehicle, even this older and smaller version of the RV.
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