RECONNOITERING* IN THE EASTERN SIERRA NEVADA & GREAT BASIN
BY 4-WHEEL-DRIVE
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My wife and I readied ourselves and made a leisurely exit from our warm cocoon of a room on the 3^rd floor. Putting our luggage in the truck's bed, I brushed the snow off the Tacoma, started the engine and warmed it up. I engaged 4WD and drove from our parking spot out front to pick up my wife, who had been in the lobby checking out. The transfer case and front axle was in use until far later in the day.

We pulled out onto busy Terminal Way, which was barely a lane wide of snow and slush. Limos, buses and locals slushed by. Turning onto Plumb Lane, we went to a nearby Denny's for coffee and breakfast.

Carson City, Nevada.

Into Carson City we came. The old downtown district around the state capitol buildings appeared quaint in the falling snow. Carson City residents were also proficient snow drivers, making me wonder just where these wrecked vehicles were to be found. We saw none as we passed through, I passed on through without mishap nor delay. The Carson City Police and the Nevada DOT bid me goodbye by not announcing on their radio systems that I was involved in a fender bender or worse.

Into California now, that state's public service frequencies on the scanner were strangely quiet. Coleville was barely visible. Snow was nearly six inches deep on the highway. Only a few vehicles dared to be out in this Arctic blast. I stopped two more times in the Antelope Valley (Walker/Coleville/Topaz Lake) to remove ice from the wipers. Then I plunged headlong into the canyon of the West Walker River.

The snow was falling so hard there were nearly white out conditions. A duet of California Department of Transportation (CalTrans) snowplows went northward. A Ford Explorer had run off the northbound side of the roadway and was jammed into the snowbank. A bit further southward and off my side of the road, a small car had run off the road and was nearly buried in the snow that was plowed against it and that had fallen atop it. With steady hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, and traveling at safe speeds, the Tacoma continued to plow through like I was traveling on dry pavement. What were these people doing to end up in such a mess? Likely driving too fast for conditions. Sonora Junction came and went. A hot cup of cocoa and Bridgeport were my goals.

Approaching Devil's Gate Summit, I heard the Mono County Fire Department radio frequency go off with it's all call tone. An avalanche warning went out, all people living at June Lake, Virginia Lakes and Twin Lakes were advised to move out and go to the community centers at June Lake and Bridgeport, where emergency shelters were being set up. The Mono County Sheriff's Department alerted their personnel that CA158 into June Lake was now officially closed. Mono County Road Department told their plow drivers to come out and close off the north shore road. Then the coup de grâce ... sheriffs deputies were alerted to the fact that US395 was just closed off by the California Highway Patrol (CHP) and CalTrans just south of Bridgeport.

I stopped at Bridgeport at 2:20pm to get my cocoa and clean off my wipers once again. It had taken me as long to go from Reno to Bridgeport as it normally takes to make the full drive between Big Pine and Reno on a clear day with dry roads. After getting the truck's windshield taken care of and snapping a few photos, I pulled back out on US395. Sure enough, at the electronic billboard at the south end of town, a CHP officer and a CalTrans truck were parked in the middle of the road, stopping traffic. I stopped and inquired of the CHP officer and CalTrans supervisor if the road north from Bridgeport into Sweetwater, Nevada was open – my alternate plan was that I could go north on CA182 and NV338 out to Smith Valley; then take NV208 and NV339 to Yerington, Nevada; then US95 Alternate over to Schurz; then south on US95 to Hawthorne and Mina; then take NV360 over to Basalt and US6; then over US6 into Bishop and US395 home. The CalTrans supervisor said they hadn't even touched a plow to that road because their focus was on US395; and it wouldn't be advisable for me to try. The CHP officer suggested that I go back and have a cup of coffee at Bridgeport. But I knew that given the weather forecast that there would be no letup in the storm until next week, I decided it required an alternative route home. My hunch was that this road wasn't going to open up anytime soon.

Bridgeport, California.

Roadblock at Bridgeport.

Just north of the state line, I knew of a maintained dirt road that runs 38 miles to Hawthorne. I looked longingly at that road in faint hopes that it might have enough snow removed and thus cut off a considerable amount of time and mileage, but the road was deep in snow with no tracks. Instead of 38 miles to a hot meal and a break in driving at Hawthorne, our route would take us 110 miles in a circuitous route.

NV338 turns abruptly north and leaves the East Walker River at the road to Hawthorne and starts climbing up Sweetwater Summit. Passing one of the ranches, I could see its residents clearing their drive out to the highway with their pickup with a plow blade attachment. A couple of SUVs passed me heading south, looking like absurds gophers burrowing crazily through the dirt. The Sweetwater Summit area opens up into broad meadows, which the wind took advantage of to lift up the snow and reduce visibility. But in its haste to whip up a snow topping, it also removed much of the snow from the roadway, making forward progress easier.

North of Sweetwater Summit.

Leaving the Smith Valley and dropping down the canyon of the Walker River, it began to rain lightly and getting dark. I kept an eye out for ice on the roadway. Entering Mason Valley, the winds picked up. In the progressing darkness I could see heavy clouds precipitating here and there, the mountains obscured in snowfall and low clouds. We pulled into the farming community and Lyon County seat of Yerington, its quaint and old downtown section softly lit - except, that is, for the purple neon of Casino West. Yerington is one of my favorite Nevada towns and I always enjoy coming through. But this trip we didn't have the luxury of stopping and simply drove straight through. My wife and I turned onto US95 alternate and headed eastward across the northern end of the Wassuk Range, where the rainfall increased, and so did the wind - now hitting us broadside, and requiring a firm hand on the steering wheel.

Canyon of the East Walker River, between Smith and Yerington, Nevada.

Yerington, Nevada.

Luning, Nevada.

Mina, Nevada.

Turning up NV360 from south of Mina, it was evident that we soon would be back into falling snow. The heavy wind buffeted my truck, blowing snow soon began to obscure the bleak, snow covered landscape. I stopped at the pullout at the historical sign indicating the ghost town of Belleville, a milling center for nearby Candelaria, and put the truck back into 4x4. Slush and snow covered the roadway. It was obvious that the southbound lane hadn't seen a plow in quite some time. I could hear the skid plates skimming through the slush in the roadway. Northbound trucks would blow by, splashing slush and cinders all over, rendering me blind for a few seconds. Trucks were blowing by with regularity.

Hitting US6, a large congregation of trucks and other vehicles were parked, removing chains. A man driving a pickup truck, turned from off of US6 flagged me down and asked about the condition of the road. He said that US6 was a mess. We turned onto US6. Home was now less than 70 miles away.

The road up and over Montgomery Pass was a breeze - quite literally - a 45mph head wind. The roadway was pretty clear of snow, Nevada's plows were working it pretty good. However, as we dropped down into the Queen Valley and closer to the California border, it began to get worse. Heavy slush and snow covered the highway. The winds picked up and soon visibility dropped to near zero. Trucks were still running in packs eastbound, struggling against the uneven road/ice/slush surfacing. I expected that at the California border that the road condition would improve. It did the opposite.

At the California border, CalTrans had plowed out a large parking area, but yet a southbound big rig chose to park smack in the middle of the highway, the butt end of his trailer jutting into Nevada. The driver was outside doing something with his chains on the passenger side of his tractor. Cars, trucks and other big rigs were having difficulty with this situation, and trying to squeeze by, as his trailer was parked across a cattle guard on the state boundary line; a cattle guard is narrow and has hard uprights on each side. The road was relatively cleared of new snow, but instead of slush there was a very rough cap of ice on the highway. It was like driving over a rocky 4x4 trail instead of the normal smooth ice cap normally left after plowing operations. Several packs of semi trucks heading eastward were fighting to keep forward momentum, their trailers weaving side to side and bobbing up and down over the rough ice. Several looked to be on the verge of loosing control.

Past the logjam, I was left alone and I found the going very difficult. High winds pushed the heavily falling snow and blowing snow to white out intensity. I could barely make my way by sighting along the highway right of way fencing and from one snow pole to the next. More than once I caught a wheel into the unplowed snow impinging on the lane and was nearly jerked off the highway.

At the agricultural inspection station a mile north of Benton, there was near zero visibility. Numerous big rigs were stopped and stranded there. Several had been there a while, indicated by drifting snow completely obscuring their undersides, running boards, fuel tanks and wheels. To make matters worse for some of the trucks that had been parked there a long time, CalTrans had plowed past them, pushing up a snow berm against the side of their rigs, to which the blowing, falling and drifting snow used in its attempt to bury them. I slowly passed through Benton and southbound. For some miles now, I became aware that I was traveling alone.

US6 north of Benton, California.

Benton, California.

Roadblock at Hammil, California.

As I started to descend the long, straight hill down into Hammil Valley, I noticed that the snow began to turn to a rain/snow mix. Then came the best sight of all - I could now begin to see the Hammil Valley floor - visibility now suddenly increased to miles instead of inches. The increasingly heavy rain, however, made forward momentum more difficult, as the heavy ice began to turn to heavy slush.

Reaching the south end of Hammil Valley, it became clear why I hadn't seen another vehicle in quite some time - a Mono County Sheriff's deputy in his Ford Expedition cruiser was parked across the roadway and a mile long line of semi trucks, cars, pickup trucks, and SUVs were piled up behind it. It was obvious that my window of opportunity to finally make it home had slammed shut just as I squeezed through. My wife and I were very relieved.