We thought we'd share some pictures from Dave and I's most recent camping trip in mid-August to Camp Richardson in Lake Tahoe. We spent three awesome days and nights biking, hiking, and relaxing. We also rented wave runners for the afternoon. By far, though, our greatest adventure was what we like to call "The Kayaking Trip from Hell."
The Friday of our camping trip, we decided to kayak from Camp Richardson to Emerald Cove on Lake Tahoe's western shore, 7 miles away (per Google Maps). Seems benign enough, no? Little did we know...
View Larger Map
We headed out at roughly noon on Friday with a packed lunch, towels and reading materials. Our plan was to kayak into Emerald Bay, eat lunch and hang out for a bit, and kayak back. An hour into our trip, with relatively little of the scenery passing by, it became very obvious that we had failed to account for currents and waves on the lake (quite different than leisurely paddling down stream on the American River near our house). We reached the point to the Bay at roughly 2pm and decided to beach the kayaks and have lunch (needless to say, we were somewhat grumpy by this point).
Dave enjoying a swim after lunch
We ate and relaxed and decided that it was too late to kayak back to camp. But how, then, to get back? I called the Lake Tahoe Transportation Authority and was told that a shuttle encircles the lake and that it picks up from Emerald Cove Trailhead every hour on the hour with the last stop at 8pm. Perfect. We decided that we would kayak to the island in the middle of the Bay to explore, then we would beach the boats. I (Jackie) would stay with the kayaks and equipment while Dave grabbed the shuttle, returned to our camp, picked up our car, and drove back to get me and the boats. Again, seems innocent enough, no?
We kayaked to the Fannette Island (another hour, which is hard to believe) -- FYI, Emerald Bay and this island are the most photographed spot in all of California, above and beyond even Yosemite -- pulled our boats up onto the rocks and hiked to the Tea Room built on top. We had a great time, but I was anxious to set our plan in motion as my hands had blisters and my arms were killing me. Needless to say, I was D-O-N-E.
(Yes, that's me -- D.O.N.E - DONE)
Inside the Tea Room at the top of Fannette Island
We then beached the kayaks in front of Vikinsholm, a BEAUTIFUL Swedish home built on the coast of the Bay (finished in 1929). Shortly thereafter, a woman on the beach informed us that no cars are allowed down to the Bay (ixnay-ing our idea of bringing the car down to pick up the kayaks) and that the Trail Head we were looking for to catch the shuttle was a one mile hike up switch backs. YOU. HAVE. GOT. TO. BE. KIDDING.
Our options?
1) Kayak back.
2) Ask some boaters to tow us back.
3) Carry the boats up the trail.
4) Stow the kayaks for the night and come back the next day.
After much angst and laughter, we stowed the kayaks for the night, partially shielded by some shrubs. We took the oars, though, thinking that if someone wanted the boats badly enough, they would have to tow them out or paddle with their hands.
We hiked the trail up the coastal cliff, caught the shuttle and headed back to camp.
Fannette Island and Emerald Bay (from the top of the hike)
Our options in the morning?
1) Rent wave runners, head over to the Bay, and tow the kayaks back. or
2) Drive the car to the trail head and haul the boats up.
We chose Option #2. Too much uncertainty with #1. Sigh...
By the time we got to Emerald Bay in the morning, the area was packed -- we had to park 1/4 mile away. The best part? As we're walking down the trail (mind you, we had already walked UP it the night before), people were huffing and puffing and saying "wow, be careful, it's much harder to walk up then down." Ha ha, thank you. A) that's just a stupid and obvious statement; and B) you people don't even know the half of it.
Day 2. Heading down the trail to get the kayaks
Turn 2
Turn 3
Turn 4 and no...still not there yet.
See the red dot on the left? That's where we were. Still about 1/4 mile to go.
Turn 5
Shockingly, the kayaks were still there (although our food was gone). Slowly....oh....so....slowly, we hauled the kayaks up the hill. At one point, because my arms were so dead tired and the handles kept falling out of my hands, Dave carried one entirely on his shoulders while we jointly carried the other one. The best part of this journey? Not one person offered to help. Took us about an hour, but we got the boats to the top of the trail and back to camp. I was useless afterward. Dave was ready for another round. I hate him.
Still there!
Me: Taking a break. People:Not helping.All in all, it was a Classic Koenig Adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment