Having packed Old Blue to the brim and said a fervent prayer for the life of our creaking car, we set out on the long, roundabout drive home.
Before heading out across the continent, we decided to drive up through California to see the national parks of the Sierra Nevada and visit friends who live in the Bay area. On our first day of travel the car was behaving just fine, and we got into Sequoia National Park without incident. The South entrance to Sequoia involves a lovely road full of construction and switchbacks, and by
the time we got to the top, where the eponymous trees are located, our transmission had decided it did not like shifting from 1st to 2nd on mountain roads with too much cargo, and would rather jerk and balk like a rented mule. Regardless, we pressed on, saw the largest trees on the planet, and camped in Kings Canyon NP (The conjoined twin of Sequoia.) We both wished we could have spent more time in Sequoia, but we wanted to get to Yosemite the next day.
On the way to Yosemite, we had a flat tire. Now, a flat tire is usually a minor hiccup to be endured when travelling, but for us, a flat tire was a bit more of a headache. First, the trunk was packed tightly with our cargo, and our bikes were on a bike rack strapped to the trunk. So changing the tire involved taking the bikes off the car, completely unpacking the trunk, changing the tire, repacking the trunk, strapping the bikes back in place, then repeating the entire process again when we got to a tire shop. Second, I discovered that there is a great deal of sharp metal inside of a worn-out tire. I discovered this by gripping the tire firmly and pulling it off, then screaming and using language I won't repeat here. Fortunately, I had a nurse at hand. Several bandages later, we got on the road and found a tire shop just outside of Yosemite where we replaced the flat tire and it's equally worn out partner with what looked like lightly used tires. More on that later.
Yosemite was gorgeous. I was there twenty years ago on a family vacation, and my memory didn't do the park justice. Pictures can't do the park justice. Ansel Adams produced some great shots of Half Dome and the other features of the park, but nothing compares to standing at the base of of a 4000 foot sheer rock face and just looking up. Seriously, if you like the outdoors and haven't yet gone to Yosemite, find an excuse to do so. (I would suggest that you go earlier or later than we did, though; the tourists are thick from June to August.)
While in Yosemite, we biked the 15 miles of bike trails, saw the museum, took a short hike, floated down the river, and relaxed at camp.
After two nights in Yosemite, we drove to Berkeley, where we stayed with Stephanie and Erin and saw Tim and Becky. I think I could move to Berkeley just for the vegan soul food restaurant we went to.
The next morning, the long drive back to GR began. From Berkeley, we had about 2200 miles to cover, most of it following I 80. We crossed the Sierra Nevada into Nevada, where one of our tires decided it was time to disintegrate. One of our new-to-us tires was a retread, and the new tread ripped off at 70 mph and wrapped itself around the axle, causing the engine temperature to spike dramatically. After repeating the elaborate tire-changing process, we realized it was after 6pm on a Sunday, and the odds of finding a replacement tire were slim to none. Having barely dented our 2200 miles, we limped to the next town and got a hotel for the night.
We were waiting when the tire shop opened the next day, and decided that we could still make it home by Tuesday night as we had originally planned. So with 1800 miles and 40 hours to go to meet our deadline, we got started. We had thought northern Nevada was the most barren and inhospitable bit of terrain the US had to offer until we crossed into Utah and discovered the Great Salt Desert. 100 miles of straight, uninhabited highway with no lifeforms in sight. Eastern Utah is lovely, though. By the end of day 2 we were in Nebraska and were almost back on pace with about 925 miles to go to GR. Day 3 involved a lot of cornfields as we drove through Nebraska, Iowa and Illinois. We passed Chicago a little after dark, and finally reached Grandville around 12:45.
