Thay's them, the cliffs,
in the background
Airing the Quilt
Forest Road 525 takes the brunt of the onslaught. Two years ago I slipped into a bumpy little slot in a junction from where I watched the parade. See blog:
This year they, the Forest Service, outlawed dispersed camping and created large holding areas where everyone is forced together cheek-to-jowel.
The hippie buses are trapped between forty-foot motorhomes that're wedged between pannier-laden overlanding moto-guzzis that're stuffed betwixt sedans of varying vintage, some with missing windows, no plumbing, not even psuedo, and throughout are all the rest in their AWD cars w rooftop tents out for a weekend or short vacation. It's ALMOST worth charging admission.
I've been at this long enough to have my own places. But they too are getting crowded. Today I drove 40 minutes instead of twenty and came home to a hilltop with a view of the main attraction, but far enough to obscure the swarming teems.
As always, the picture just serves as a reminder. There's no camera that can do it justice. A beautiful nail-paring of a moon gleams from nearly straight up.
