After the beautiful California Countryside, I began to realize that this wouldn't be an easy ride. After reaching Fiddletown, it became clear to me that my first mountain was definitely going to be an eye-opening experience!
(picture of Fiddletown)
Everyone had told me that riding over Carson's pass was insane, and I soon began to see the reasoning. It was definitely a climb!
The family and I had planned on meeting up and the Indian Grinding Rock state park to camp for the evening. I left most of my gear in the van, since we would be meeting up later. I didn't have any cell phone service up there, so I'm glad we had a plan.
I passed through the cute little town of Volcano, and finally made it to the meeting place, or so I thought. It was about 7:30pm, and the visitors center was locked up and not a single car was parked in the parking lot. Confused, I sat there for a while, hoping to see my family's van pull in. I didn't see any signs indicating that there was a camp ground, so I waited by the visitor's center. It started raining, and I began to contemplate the possibility of not being able to get a hold of my family. I wouldn't have been so worried had I not left most of my gear, including my tent, in the family vehicle.
I parked my bike next to the road so that if my family drove by, they would know I was there. Then I started exploring the vacant area, trying to make a game plan for the night, in case I really did have to stay there. I found a few tepees on the grounds that seemed to be keeping the rain out, so I thought if worst came to worst, I would have a dry place to stay.
I said a little prayer, hoping that my mom wasn't totally freaking out that she couldn't find me. I got the impression that I should make a short jog around the grounds. It didn't make sense, seeing as it was raining and getting dark, but I decided to follow the prompting anyways. Exhausted from the 40 mile ride, mostly uphill, my legs weren't totally keen to the idea, but we jogged around the State park, hoping to find something that indicated where my family was.
After about 30 minutes, I heard talking coming from the woods. I followed the voices, and stumbled into the campground, and was reunited with my family. Apparently, I had to keep biking down the main road to find the campground. (California needs to learn how to make signs!)
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