For my weekend refuge I planned to go to Pyramid Lake, out in the Nevada desert about 70 miles northeast of Lake Tahoe. Pyramid Lake is routinely called one of the most beautiful desert lakes in the world. I was questioning the sanity of heading out into the desert in mid-July but I asked a couple of rangers and they didn’t blanch at the idea, so I went.
It was 96 degrees when I got there but cooling down with a lovely late afternoon breeze. With no shade, surrounded by desert, the lake is basically the anti-Tahoe. It has nearly no development, and though it attracts a fair number of boaters and fishermen, they tend to congregate in the same places and the scale of the place swallows them up. I heard no Loverboy, or any other amplified music, the entire weekend.
I stopped at the Paiute Ranger Station for a camping permit and the ranger told me I could camp anywhere I wanted along the west side of the lake as long as I was more than 50 feet from the water. No tables, no firepits, a few pit toilets here and there. "This is primitive camping, my friend." Off-handedly she warned me to be careful where I parked as the sand out along the lake is thick.
I drove out to the far end of the road, where the ranger thought I would be happy. A few cars congregated in one area, though I didn’t see any people. I went a bit further and saw what looked like a good spot, then pulled over a bit and got out to check the softness of the surface I wanted to park on. I wasn’t really sure what was good enough, and don’t actually remember what I concluded because when I got back into my car I found I was already stuck. I gunned the wheels backward and forward, tried the cardboard under the tires routine, and dug myself a little deeper with each effort. I had been on the reservation for maybe a half an hour and I was already sunk in the sand .
I was more annoyed with myself than worried. I was free to camp where I was; I had what I needed for at least a couple of nights; there were people nearby; and it was Friday night, with pickups driving by along the main road a few hundred yards away. Surely I wasn't stranded. And in fact not more than an hour later a big pickup came bouncing along in my direction and I flagged him down. Young guy, long straight black hair and dark complexion. I didn't even have to tell him what the problem was, he stuck his head out and said "you're stuck?"
He told me he had done it himself once, and had had to walk several miles to get help. He said the rangers would do nothing more than call a tow truck for you. He didn't have a chain with him and said he could go back to his campground and someone was bound to have one. I thanked him and said not to worry about it now as I was ok for the night, but if he could come by tomorrow that would be great. He seemed grateful for that; he had driven out looking for cell phone reception. I went about my evening, which was simply mystical. I’m not inclined to try and describe the mystical. Let me just say the basic ingredients were dry air, endless vistas, desert scent, cool breezes, enormous star-filled sky, nearly total silence, and one sentient human being.
The morning was lovely only until the sun started climbing. The shade of my car gave out early and I went to sit under some cliffs. I found the owners of the nearby cars camped under the only trees around. I told them my story and they said they’d come lend a hand after breakfast. Eventually a party of 4 young men and a few small children came my way, playing frisbee golf along the sand. They pondered the problem for a bit and we tried to push it out but it was hopeless. One guy offered to drive me out to the ranger but I said I would wait on the guy from the night before who said he’d come back. I felt pretty confident he would. I retreated to my shade and not much later my friend came back with another guy and a chain and pulled me out in no time. The kid was concerned with my pride but my pride wasn't too damaged here. I was simply glad to be liberated. I gave them a $20 to share, and later felt a bit like a cheapskate.
Once free from the sand I drove around to the east shore, where the Paiute have recently barred camping but still allow day use. A smattering of picnics and umbrellas stretched along the beach. It was too hot and sunny for me at midday so I took to the only shade I could, opening my car trunk to create just enough shade to sit in, cook, eat, read. When things cooled down a bit I went swimming in the lake, third one of my trip. It was warm as a bathtub.
The main attraction for me was the assembly of tufa formations in and around the lake. Tufa is created when calcium-rich freshwater springs up into carbonate-rich lake water. These cause a chemical reaction that creates solid limestone, with a tower building up atop the spring into the lake water. Individual pieces look like brains. Here along the east shore some of these formations take on shapes considered sacred by the Paiute: the Great Stone Mother, and her baby’s basket. I spotted them right away. Very impressive. When light was good I went to take some pictures but a large group of families was assembled beneath them. I approached gingerly, not wanting to disrespect some religious activity, and when someone finally acknowledged me I said I wanted to take pictures and they said sure. They weren't Paiute anyway, just using it for picnic shade.
 | |
| Great Stone Mother with Baby Basket |
With sunset coming on, I reluctantly drove back to the other side of the lake. The early evening glow over treeless lake meadows was very beautiful. I found a small parking area and camped on a lake overlook that seemed an unlikely campsite but was legal and wonderful. Possibly the best campsite I would have the entire trip, though I would say that about 15 more times.
On the way out I stopped at the Paiute Visitors Center, probably the most beautiful human-built structure I would see the entire trip. I kick myself now for not taking a picture. I can’t even find a good photo on the internet. If you’re ever in Nixon Nevada…
No comments:
Post a Comment