We departed Plum Valley campground early-ish the next morning, stopping to let Chelsea take some aerial glamour shots and to try out the “active track” mode on her drone (the last time we tried this, her old drone flew itself directly into a tree). We even did a little search drill on the road out, allowing Gracie to stretch her legs, nose, and brain, looking for Chelsea as she slowly hobbled back to the van, now even more incapacitated and suffering from a totally numb right foot. We were concerned that she had badly pinched a nerve, or possibly suffered another damaged disc in her back, but we did what we could by feeding her ibuprofen and keeping her out of the driver’s seat.

We made highway miles from Plum Valley to Graeagle, California, stopping to resupply and fuel up in small towns along the way. The drive took a couple hours, but Walter performed well and we made it to the Gold Lake 4x4 trailhead by mid-afternoon. The trail was only a mile and a half, and cousin Jay assured me that it wasn’t too technical, with one crux “gatekeeper” section and a bunch of light crawling. Chelsea was concerned with our ability to escape the trail unscathed, as our vehicle is our home, our lifeboat and our safety when we’re on these trips, and she was right to be concerned. The trail probably didn’t push Walter to his limits, but it pushed us to our limits with Walter. Jay and Morgan’s van made the trail look easy, and I picked my way up the rocks behind them, often relying on Morgan’s direction to help me place my wheels exactly where I wanted them. The new tires were great, aired down to 35PSI, and Walter’s low gear and locked center differential kept us from spinning wheels. It took us about an hour, but we made it to the end of the trail, although not without damage: Chelsea, who had been walking part of the trail taking photographs and minding Gracie, was tearful with pain. Her back was not getting better.

Carefully experimenting with the Drone’s follow mode.

Walter is a better 4x4 than i am a driver.

Cousin Jay advising on the toughest part of the track. - this was a challenge for us!

We arrived at the campground as the sun was setting, relieved that we had made it through the trail, and trying not to think about the mandatory return trip back down. We had decided to spend two nights at the campground, so we could have one full day without driving, and because it was somehow a free campsite, it would be a full day without expenditures - bonus! We parked, leveled the rigs, I deployed an awning, and got to cooking on a mostly new-to-me kitchen. The menu was tacos by the lakeside.

I slept well, Chelsea didn’t, and the next day was mostly relaxation and light exploration. Dogs played in the lake until they were shivering, Chelsea flew her drone for some more glamour shots of the vans, and the rest of us hiked up to Summit Lake, a thousand feet above the campground. We watched Jeeps and motorcycles pass us by, adventuring up a longer, more advanced four-wheel route, and mostly did a lot of nothing. The lake glassed out and we got the SUP inflated for some paddling, and the stars came out to play over a beautiful campfire.

The next day we struck camp and got moving by 10:30, finishing the trail out in only 45 minutes. Walter handled great again, but had some troubles when I shifted him back into 2WD - the ATF level was fine, but maybe the fluid was too hot. We limped him towards the nearest town, and about halfway there the issues magically went away…so…we’re good? The highway miles from Gold Lake to Carson City were uneventful, and that put us at ease.

First big dinner being cooked on the camp kitchen!

Fetch in the lake was lively but short lived, as the dogs were shivering in no time.

This wasn’t the extent of Chelsea’s abilities, but it was close. Her back was getting worse.

Idyllic camping on the shores of Gold lake.

This is the extent of Chelsea’s abilities, she walked with us up a bit of the Summit Lake trail before turning around.

Summit Lake? Swamp? Bog? It was very pretty.

Little Gold Lake in the foreground, Morgan on the SUP, Gold Lake in the background. Our camp was Between the two.

I couldn’t say no to some near-glass evening paddle boarding.

That’s totally a shooting star or satellite?

It only tooks us 45 minutes to complete the 1.5 miles out Gold Lake trail.

I wish i could have enjoyed the view but i was entirely concentrated on the drive.

Picking our line in the narrow wheelbase Delica.

I can’t tell if Gracie liked any of this.

Family photo as Walter’s transmission cooled down a little.

Despite the van running great, we weren’t completely whole. Chelsea’s back had kept her from doing much of anything during the days, and had kept her from sleeping at night. It was discouragingly reminiscent of our original Baja trip in 2016/17, which ended with back surgery in Ensenada, and that experience was tough on us both individually and as a couple. Wanting to get ahead of the problem, get some answers, or at least get some stronger drugs, we routed out to the nearest urgent care.

I’ve mentioned “travel magic” in the past, or at least it’s a common phrase Chelsea and I use. For us, it’s the nearly magical, incredibly coincidental, dramatically beautiful, surprisingly lucky, and obviously blessed happenstances that make life on the road worthwhile. The only way to experience travel magic is to travel, but travel itself doesn’t guarantee travel magic - it shows up when it shows up. The noon sun was already overhead by the time we re-entered cell service in Graeagle, and I was frantically googling urgent care centers near Carson City, hoping we could find one that would prescribe some heavy duty NSAIDs and maybe some muscle relaxants. Anything open would do, as I knew we would be hitting Carson City as the shadows were getting long, and with a better-than-nothing attitude I chose the closest facility, the ROC urgent care, a branch of the Reno Orthopedic Center. The closest urgent care center was an orthopedic specific facility attached to a full blown orthopedic hospital with a staff of sports medicine doctors and surgical specialists! What luck! What a blessing! What travel magic!

We parked Walter in the shade, opened the vents for Gracie, and got Chelsea into an exam room. She was whisked away for X-rays immediately, all included in the basic exam price, and after a thorough physical she had a prescription for a steroid treatment and some muscle relaxers. We were concerned that the pharmacy wouldn’t be able to fill her prescriptions before we had to leave Nevada, but the nice doctor explained to us we were in a real city now, not in the rural mountains of Idaho, and that our pills would probably be ready before we even got to the Walmart down the street. She was right. Travel magic!

With the sun setting on Carson City, we pulled into my Uncle’s property, where the rest of the gang had already arrived and started dinner preparations. It was a real relief to be in safe parking spot, even though we had been in safe parking spots the whole way down so far - security (or the nearly tangible illusion of security) is never really taken for granted while traveling, at least not in our van. My Uncle Grant, the ever gracious host, offered us the full use of his ranch, including a king size bed in a guest room for Chelsea. We had been worried that the cramped sleeping quarters of the van had exacerbated her back, so she spent two nights sprawled out on her own. We did laundry, got caught up on blog postings, visited Lake Tahoe, visited the infamous Genoa Bar and Saloon, and prepared to head southward on roads we had not yet traveled. Chelsea’s back made some progress towards normalcy, but not much.

The next day we packed up for Lone Pine. We triple checked the house, double checked the van, and still managed to leave one of Gracie’s favorite discs behind. With the road stretching on in front of us, we informed Dre, our next gracious host, of our imminent arrival in Lone Pine, CA. We were hopping from host to host through some of California’s most beautiful terrain, it felt like we were just road tripping, not overlanding. We had barely had a chance to use our kitchen, so we stopped at the beautiful Mono Lake rest stop for a too-short walk and a lunch of bagged salad and tuna. Finally feeling like we were getting into the tempo of the trip, we loaded back up and made miles to the foot of Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48.

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Oct 4 - Oct 9 : Gold Lake Trail, Carson City, and onwards to Lone Pine

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