Best. Day. Ever.

When I left off from my last post, I was sitting in a booth at Bishop’s Denny’s and hoping my phone would ring. That the random stranger who’d picked up my solar kit would call me so that I could come get it.

About 10 minutes later, my phone did ring. When I put on my most polite voice and answered it… I was greeted by a park ranger up at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest.

He gave me a little more backstory about my lost solar panel and battery. He also gave me the name and phone number of the guy who had it. The only scrap paper I had in front of me was my travel journal, so this guy (Mike) and his phone number are now permanently recorded there.

I called Mike immediately. He answered on the second ring. He told me he was up in Lee Vining (about an hour north), at the Mono Vista RV Park. His tan Sportsmobile was parked in spot #10.

I paid for my breakfast and headed north at 10AM. And I had my solar kit back by 11:30.

Sorry if that’s a disappointing end to the adventure. But there just wasn’t much to the retrieval. I drove up to Lee Vining, past the Mammoth Airport, past the exit for Mammoth. A beautiful drive – the aspen trees up there were really starting to pop. I pulled into the Mono Vista RV Park, just past the town of Lee Vining, and easily spotted that tan Sportsmobile. It sure looked like a nice one – pop-up camper top, lifted suspension, beefy tires. Mike turned out to be a very nice retired guy and we talked a little about my kit, which he’d set up to recharge. Yes, he’d used the battery to charge up his phone the night before. Who knows why? He had full hookups.

Anyway, Mike asked me how much the kit set me back, and I told him it cost about $250. “That’s it?” he joked. “I thought I had a real score here.”

Well, $250 is a lot of money for me. But then, the 4×4 Sportsmobile parked in spot #10 was so tricked out I’d put its cost at around six figures. I had to wonder what the hell this off-roading slice of perfection was doing parked at an RV Park.

Mike pretty much answered that question when he said, “I’m probably going to sell the Sportsmobile in a couple more years. I’m not really much of a camper.” I should have given him a business card – the Sportsmobile is my dream car. Of course, I doubt I could save up enough money to buy one in just a couple years.

With my faith in humanity restored I headed up to Bodie Ghost Town. I’d heard of this place last year, when Michael and I passed through the area on our way to Lake Tahoe. We didn’t go (I think the road leading to the town was closed due to snow) but I thought it sounded pretty cool. And since it was so close to Mono Lake – one of the other places I planned to photograph on this trip – I figured it was worth checking out.

I had no idea.

Colorado has ghost towns, of course, but the ones I’ve been to tended to be tiny, with maybe a couple of intact buildings and not much else. Bodie is a State Historic Park and it actually costs $8 to get in, plus $2 if you buy the informational brochure, which of course I did. I’m not a total history junkie but I do love to learn, and I always love a good story.

Gold was first discovered in this area in 1859, and the real boom began in 1875 when a mine collapse revealed a rich body of gold ore. Bodie became a town in 1877. At its peak over 7,000 people lived there, although the population dwindled as mining declined. The last resident left Bodie in 1942.

Bodie sits at over 8,000 feet in elevation and the winters here could generally be described as brutal. As in…

“snow as high as 20 feet deep, winds up to 100 miles per hour, and temperatures down to 30 or 40 below zero”

That was from a blurb about Bodie’s sawmill – which was especially busy in the fall and winter as lots of firewood was needed to heat Bodie’s “poorly constructed houses.” Apparently the winter of 1878-79 was particularly harsh and many new arrivals to the town died of disease or exposure.

The town was made into a State Park in 1962, and everything in Bodie is now “preserved in a state of arrested decay.” This means that as things fall apart in Bodie they are stabilized or repaired only enough to remain stable. Nothing gets restored.

The brochure I purchased had a suggested walking route and I started off on it but was almost immediately distracted. By buildings, by pieces of metal lying on the ground, by… everything. Bodie was just so cool! It’s like I wanted to see it all at once. Luckily all the buildings are numbered so I could easily figure out where I was and what I was supposed to be looking at.

Photographing Bodie was dreamy. There’s no other way for me to describe it, really. Everywhere I looked I found something interesting. And just look at the sky in that photo above! I know it might sound silly, but… clouds! Finally, and interesting sky! Those clouds built throughout the afternoon, and by the time I left it was actually pretty overcast. I was so proud of myself: I’d arrived at just the right time.

And I took my time wandering around. There were several dirt streets in Bodie, and over 45 buildings in various stages of falling apart. I don’t know if it was the elevation or the sky or what – but everything in Bodie actually seemed kind of vibrant. Bright colors, lots of contrast. You’d think with everything being so old and so weathered that the colors would be more muted. But I just didn’t find that to be the case.

Most of the buildings in Bodie were locked – although you could peek through the windows. Miller House (named because Tom Miller, along with his wife and two children, lived there) on Green Street was one of the few homes that was open.

Yeah, the framed poster is not original. The print across the top says “Nothing Endures But Change” and it’s a series of photos of Bodie itself over the years.  Walking through the remains of Tom Miller’s house, I guess I was kind of surprised to see the remnants of wallpaper on the walls and linoleum on the floor.

But then, people did live here up until 1942. And maybe not everyone wants plain walls and plain wooden floors.

There was so much to photograph at Bodie – along with all the buildings, I found various machinery, plus lots of… other stuff.

Yeah, I have no idea what that is. The brochure only mentions this area with “Red Cloud Mining Equipment.”

The mine is still there, although it’s closed to the public.

Apparently in the summer they offer tours once a month. The mine itself sits away from Green Street, which appeared to be the main drag of Bodie. The town had all the things you might expect – like a hotel or two, a general store, blacksmith, sawmill, schoolhouse, lots of saloons, a bank (well, the brick vault, which was all that was left after a 1932 fire). I guess the fire station didn’t prove to be all that useful?

I had a blast walking around Bodie. I found the other photographers to be really respectful, too, going around people who were obviously shooting or asking if it was okay to stand in a spot. This green truck might just be the most photographed object in Bodie.

I checked out the surrounding buildings, waiting until there was only one other guy shooting, and then I walked carefully around him to get to the spot I wanted. He smiled and said hello as I passed. He was set up with a tripod and I noticed something curious about his shooting style. Most DSLRs can shoot in single or burst mode. I tend to shoot singles, but then, I like landscapes. Action shots are great for shooting continuously. Anyway, this guy was shooting in burst mode. Every time he pushed the shutter button, I’d hear this “brrrrap!” sound of multiple exposures. And all I could think was… dude, it’s a stationary object. The sky is not changing that much. Why are you taking so many shots? That sounds like a nightmare to edit.

But then, I’ve never been the most patient photographer. I took five or six shots of this truck and moved on.

 

Hell, I only took a couple shots of these lamps. I did play with this image in Lightroom, though, to make the colors as vibrant as possible.

 

 

My last stop at Bodie was just labeled “Machinery” on the map. At first glance all I saw was a lot of iron rusting out in the sun.  And it was, of course. But I figured out some of it – like this the boiler and generators.

I was a little sorry to leave Bodie and I’d come back here in a heartbeat.

As I headed out of Bodie and back towards Highway 395 I contemplated my next move. One regret on that drive was not stopping to photograph the herds of sheep I saw, as they were complete with sheepherders with dogs and everything. Although the dogs surprised me a little. I was expecting border collies, but these were gigantic white dogs. I think they were Great Pyrenees and didn’t realize those were herding dogs.

It was early enough that I had plenty of time to go to Mono Lake for sunset shots. But that overcast sky had me a little concerned. I also didn’t know exactly where I’d be camping, and I hate having to search for a campsite in the dark, so… I scrapped the sunset shoot and headed for a little Forest Service road just west of Lee Vining on Highway 120. If you ever go that way, turn left onto the second forest service road you see. There are five or six dispersed sites off that road that are small but level, and protected by trees. There’s pretty much no traffic after dark (Highway 120 goes straight into Yosemite National Park) so even though you’re close to the highway, it’s super quiet.

I set up my little campsite, made myself dinner, and took the DSLR version of a selfie.

Sunset looked to have some nice colors, so I kind of regretted not heading to Mono Lake that afternoon, but that’s okay. I’d had a fabulous day. And I was well set up for the next plan: get up at 5am the next day. Time for sunrise shots at Mono Lake.