Hwy 395

Lake Sabrina, near Bishop.

looks like a Bristol Cone tree

our lodging for the night

Keough Hot Springs pool, Bishop, CA.

amazing Hollyhocks in Bridgeport, CA.

Pete and I spend Labor Day weekend on Hwy 395 in the Eastern Sierra nearly every year. Even though we’ve been there several times, there is still so much to discover. This year, we slept in a covered wagon in Bridgeport, swam in the historic (built in 1919) Keough Hot Springs pool (it’s actually not that hot, since the pool is regulated by a cool water mist fountain), and hiked a few miles up the majestic Mount Whitney to the magical Lone Pine Lake (not pictured in this post. Still need to develop that role of film). In the Inyo National Forest, we found all kinds of creeks and lakes in which to play. I’m even considering taking up fly fishing for next year’s trip. While in the towns along Hwy 395, we ate at local restaurants and bars. In Jake’s Saloon in the town of Lone Pine, we shared a sweet remembrance of an old friend prompted by a David Allen Coe tune. Also in Lone Pine, we stumbled upon a real-deal garage sale - as in vintage accessories were like 25 cents a piece. I came away with several vintage hats and purses (including the red sun hat I’m wearing in this post) for $5!

Happy Friday! I’m stoked for tonight because I’m going to see Dwight Yoakam perform at the Palladium in Hollywood. Yippee!

Outfit # 1: 50s plaid shorts, vintage cotton top, vintage hiking boots (thrifted) \
Outfit # 2: Baja hoodie (thrifted) jeans with a name so stupid I’m too embarrassed to tell you (American Rag), reissued Van Doren daisy print shoes by Vans.

my home is in the blue ridge mountains

I'm keeping the old world alive, folks. This Sunday I took a class on cyanotype printing, which was invented in 1842. It's a really fun & easy process & anybody can do it. I took this photo along Hwy 395. If you look hard enough you can see the watermark from the watercolor paper I used in the corner of my image.

In a similar vein, I found this photo of a big eyed baby & a young mama in an antique shop in Bishop and was immediately drawn to it. maybe, because my sister is a young mama who keeps popping out big eyed babies.

my four year old niece, Anna, took this photo of me and my nephew Nicholas, so it's a bit blurry. She made me hold the doll. She is a bossy photographer. Wonder where she got that from. ahem.

Also on my recent road trip, I purchased a 1940's book, "Mr. Red Squirrel" for Anna & I just love the illustration. Here's my favorite image.

To conclude this rather desultory post, I leave you with a song that I've been playing and singing over and over again: Townes Van Zandt's "Blue Ridge Mountains."

Ciao for now,

Crystal Lee

the highway is for lovers

Here in Los Angeles, it’s sweltering, the sky is visibly polluted, and the traffic is a living hell; my mind drifts towards last weekend’s trip along Hwy 395. Here is a peaceful image of the windy road as seen from the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest.

long time friends

After exploring the Bristlecone Pine Forest, we made our way to one of our favorite little towns, Bridgeport, where we ate some top notch fried chicken and peach pie that made me moan aloud. Later that night, we entertained ourselves with a game of horseshoes (I'm afraid the photos were too grainy to post). With Pete's advice to play with more finesse and grace, I actually did pretty well for my first try.

Believe it or not, there was no film at this store.

Outside of our room at the Virginia Creek Settlement in Bridgeport

The next morning, we drove to Virginia City, Nevada, a dusty, bawdy, old western mining town, where outlaws, gamblers, miners, soiled doves, and Mark Twain once roamed. Mark Twain's first novel,"Roughing It", was based on his time spent living and working in Virginia City, NV. I have yet to read this book, but I can't wait to now. And here I am roaming around.

Mark Twain sat here in his role as editor of the local newspaper, the Territorial Enterprise

He also sat here.

The sun shines through big undies here in Virginia City.

in the bookstore. My dress features an insect print.

the main drag in Virginia City

We decided to lodge at Lake Tahoe but in retrospect, we would have enjoyed Virginia City's nightlife much more. Anyway, on our way to Tahoe, my car overheated, and so we parked it in the shade, right in front of the sign for the Moonlight Bunny Ranch, which we couldn't actually find for a photo op.

We made it to Tahoe just in time to hit the lake and catch some rays.

The nightlife in South Tahoe is basically an outdoor shopping mall offering a lot of crap retail, but we found an arcade in Harrah's Casino that had old school video games like Ms. PacMan!

The next morning, we made our way to June Lake, a charming and friendly little resort town, that we really want to return to in the Fall or Winter.

June Lake

Pete in front of our room. We spent the evenings with the locals at the Tiger Bar, where we sat at the bar and conversed with everyone about important matters like who makes the best pie along Hwy 395. Pete and I shared a piece of peach pie, and though it was yummy, but Bridgeport's peach pie was much better.

The Tiger Bar

We stopped at several antique shops during our trip. I found a turn of the century crochet crop top with pink ribbon trim for $15. I wore it for most of the trip, but those photos are on the black and white film that is still in my camera. I also bought Pete a pair of handsome cowboy boots as an anniversary gift (It's been three years this final time around). I found the cutest 1930s round glasses, but the celluloid arm snapped in half as I was trying them on after purchase. The owner of the shop let me pick out another pair and also let me keep the damaged ones; I'm hoping Pete can fix em' for me, and I'm pretty sure he'll be able to. He's been successfully fixing my run down shit forever now.

California's Eastern Sierra

I’ve got some stories to tell you folks, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time just yet. Just returned from a mini trip along Hwy 395, in California’s Eastern Sierra. You may remember this place from last year’s Labor day holiday (here, here, here, here) There’s just so much to see in the Eastern Sierra that we just had to go back, and honestly we’ll probably return every year. There’s desert, forest, lakes, old western towns, and ancient stuff, like the bristle cone pines - trees that are over 3000 years old, older than the old growth Sequoia trees. In fact, they’re the oldest trees in the world! And then there’s more goodies like old watering hole bars, friendly folks, yummy homemade pies and fried chicken, neon lit hotels, and some of the best antique shops I’ve ever encountered! For now, here is a lil’ preview of my trip. I hope you had a lovely holiday weekend. More anecdotes and photos to come soon.

ancient bristlecone pine tree

Virginia City, NV

Lake Tahoe

I love lakes! Lake Tahoe.

Hwy 395 revisted

Some recently developed film photos from my Olympus Trip 500 Point & Shoot camera. Taken along the glorious Hwy 395.

Hwy 395: Yosemite National Park & the Alabama Hills

Yosemite National Park, one of California’s most revered hot spots, is a magical land of smooth granite domes, craggy peaks, mirrored lakes, spacious meadows for frolicking, and cute little pikas everywhere. The pikas have eluded me since early July when I was in the Sequoia National Forest. A pika would dart across the road or scurry up a tree, looking like a mouse/rabbit/chipmunk hybrid. My friends and I were obsessed with this creature, hounding rangers and locals for insight as to what this bundle of cuteness was, but nobody knew what we were talking about. I did not learn the name of this mystery animal until my trip to Yosemite, when it was pictured in all it’s cuteness in a pamphlet that we received when we entered the park. In fact, I had never even heard of a pika. Well, it’s pika madness in the Eastern Sierras. If I were an animal, I think I’d be a pika, and here’s why. 1) Pikas have big ears for their small frame. I have a big butt for my size. 2) It’s hard to tell just what kind of an animal a pika is. In 6th grade, my now best friend of nearly 20 years, used to stare at me inquisitively & incessantly. It would make me quite uncomfortable. When we became steady friends, I asked her why she was always staring at me. She replied that she was trying to figure out just what I was composed of. She thought I looked Black, Chinese, White. She couldn’t understand my clothes or my hair-do, both poverty’s doing I’m sure. (I did not have any style until about 15 years old.) Likewise, I’m sure my readers feel the same way sometimes – Crystal Lee looks like Cat Ballou today, Kelly Bundy yesterday, what is up with this gal’s style? I am comfortable being a pika. Having a diverse style allows me to better display different shades of my personality. Obviously, my clothing is not my only means of expression, but it’s probably the most fun mode.







The next day: Alabama Hills, Lone Pine

I felt like I stepped onto another planet or back in time to the prehistoric days, when I first beheld the Alabama Hills, just west of Lone Pine in Inyo County, CA. I was so happy to be with my erratically-shaped rock friends. I feel most at home in the forest or amongst big rocks. Pete is always admonishing me to be careful when I haphazardly jump and play all over rocks. I tell him not to worry because I would never fall off a rock, my calloused feet were made for such adventures!



Sierra Nevada in the background

run, pika, run.



well, friends, that's just about it for my Hwy 395 adventures. We explored more places than I've shown you, but I don't want to overwhelm you with pictures.

Ciao for now.