Returning to the Ghosts of Hookers, Miners, and Gunslingers Past

Jack Kerouac, author of the famous beat-era novel, “On the Road,” wrote “Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.”  For some people, wanderlust grabs them, sinks its sharp teeth in, and gnaws at them daily, and if they aren’t able to feed the that biting desire, they spend their days feeling like they should be somewhere—anywhere—as long as it’s elsewhere. 

I’ve spent my entire life overwhelmed by the urge to wander, but as I grew up and my life required me to be more “responsible,” my wandering slowed greatly.  Having a child makes it difficult to throw your “battered suitcases” in the car and hit the road indefinitely, especially once your child is in school. 

Short adventures, when I can experience them, have helped me balance my wanderlust and my responsibility, and I was recently able to hit the road for a few days.

My journey took me east on U.S. Highway 50, southeast on State Route 89, and south on US-395, to my destination of SR-270 and Bodie State Historic Park, east of the Sierra Nevada in Mono County.  The drive is very pleasant and scenic, with diverse environments from lush forests to dry, high deserts.

Bodie is a ghost town that State Parks maintains in arrested decay.  In its heyday, Bodie was a boom town that boasted a population of about 10,000 people from many cultures and backgrounds.

Exactly what draws me to Bodie is still a mystery.  Sometimes I wonder if I may have lived in the area in some long-ago life.  What I suspect attracts me to the town is the people—the area’s former inhabitants.  I’m in awe of the different and shared hardships and challenges the various groups had to overcome to survive: the Kutzadika'a Paiute who were the early indigenous people of the area, Mexicans who had lived in the area from the time California was still part of Mexico, recent immigrants from all over the world, and American pioneers.

I visited Bodie on June 18, 2010, almost one year to the day from my visit last year.   The park seemed quieter.  I'm not sure if the date being eight days earlier had any impact, or perhaps it was the cost.  Since last June, the cost to enter the park jumped from $5 to $7, which is only 2 bucks, but it's also a 40 percent increase.  The weather was mostly pleasant, but it was breezier and slightly overcast, which it wasn't last year.  I focused on a different part of the town, one which I didn't get a chance to look at in detail last year.  Since my trip last year, I 've read several books on Bodie, so I was able to understand more of the history of many of the buildings.  

Since my 2009 trip to Bodie, I also discovered that I work with one of the people who helped write Bodie's general plan.  He shared with me stories of Bodie's development as s state park, and some of the guidelines for maintaining the park in a state of arrested decay.  One of the things that I learned is that everything is supposed to be kept the way it was when the state acquired the property in the 60s.  This means no remodeling.  Re-roofing with authentic or period-looking materials to prevent water leaks and dry rot = yes.  Painting the houses and re-wallpapering them = no.

When I was in Bodie last year, I noticed a 1937 truck that looked freshly painted.  I thought it looked odd with the decaying appearance of everything around it.  I didn't care much for the "fresh" look of the truck, but I didn't know the rules, so I minded my own business.  This year, being more familiar not only with the town's history, but also the park's general plan, I was very upset when I noticed a piece of wood painted with bright red and white stripes to look like a barber sign.  That is not part of the general plan, and is what is considered a modern intrusion.  The sign, coupled with the truck, is slowly giving a garish appearance to the park--a look that I am not happy with.  

I also had one of my "firsts" during this trip.  I had my first experience with a "dust devil."  While I've never experienced a dust devil before, I'm confident that my experience was probably very mild compared to what dust devils are capable of.   First, it came without warning.  We had experienced mild and periodic breezes throughout the day, and two mild breezes came down the street before the devil arrived.  We were standing at the corner of Main and Green streets, facing northeast.  Moments after the two smaller gusts left, a wind appeared that was almost strong enough to knock me over, and I'm a big ol' girl.  The wind brought dirt, sand, and pebbles flying at us in a whirling direction that would quickly reverse and whirl in the opposite direction.  Two small children who were in a nearby group started screaming as they were being pelted with pebbles and sand.  The whole event felt like it lasted about 5 minutes, but it was probably more like 10-15 seconds.  Afterward the devil left, I reached into my pocket and felt about 1/4 inch of sand.  I checked all my pockets, and they all had sand in them.  I also had so much sand on my scalp that it felt like I had been doing headstands on the beach.  And, I later found a fair amount of sand in the travel bag I was carrying.  This little phenomenon of nature gave me just one more reason to appreciate the bravery (some might call it stupidity) and perseverance of the native people and early pioneers of the area.

During my trip, I stayed in the nearby town of Lee Vining.  While I was there, I went into the town’s visitor center, which has a fabulous selection of books on the entire US-395 area.  They also had free Roadside Heritage CDs with audio stories of the Eastern Sierra.  I love stories, and when they’re free, they seem even better.  The CDs feature educational stories that include subjects such as the formation of the Sierra Nevada, volcanoes, minerals, flora and fauna, native people, and developments that came with the gold rush.

After I returned home, I learned that the Roadside Heritage stories are available online, and the Web site has even more stories than the CD.  I encourage you to listen to the wonderful stories about California’s Eastern Sierra.  They just might tempt you into visiting too.