This morning I woke up in my campground on a Monday just outside of Bishop. The weekend crowds were gone, it was quiet, and I was all to myself in the area set aside for tents. Sure, the RV crowd was sparsely populating the full hook up pads, but I was almost the lone tent guy at this point.

It was going to be another hot one today. The Weather Channel app said a high of 107! Plus, thunderstorms in the afternoon especially in the mountains where I was headed. Needless to say, I needed to hit the road as early as I could to beat the heat and also beat the mountain thunderstorms. In other words, if mother nature didn’t get me on the way up, she might get me on the way down. Timing was everything today.

The good news is that I could roll directly out of my tent and onto the road today. The climb was right out of Bishop. Billed as the 10th hardest climb in California, it was a long steady grind of 22 miles up and a long cruise back. Needless to say, I was a bit spent from the day before. The anxiety of the impending weather however, seemed to give that extra ounce of adrenaline needed to get going.

The first 15 miles of South Lake certainly have some scenic moments, but it is on a relatively busy road. Fortunately, the shoulder is wide. Still, up to this point I had not been riding where there was any real traffic so this one was not quite a pleasurable for the first 2/3 of the ride from a noise standpoint.

That being said, the approach of the Sierras never gets old. They sit before you in such an ominous way towering before you. I can never get enough of that view. It both laughs at you and calls to you at the same time.

After about 5 miles, the terrain uniquely changed to sort of a Mars landscape. Nothing but rocks. Rocks that held quite a bit of heat I would find out. By now the sun had risen and was well on its way to that 107 degree mark. Even though it is really hot, I kind of wanted to peddle faster because I knew that the faster I climbed, the cooler it would be as I gained elevation.

As I passed 6000 feet above sea level, the heat began to subside again. I was still riding through Mars, but at least it wasn’t so hot. I could also begin to hear a river off to my left as well. I would find out later it was Bishop Creek that I would follow all the way up to South Lake.

Finally, as I reached 7000 feet above sea level there were trees. Sparse, but yes actual trees. Something else than a rock. Millions and jillions of rocks that is. It was just past this point where finally the ride became interesting and in most cases leave the heavy traffic behind.

Normally, I would think the next final miles would be serene and light on traffic. However, I hit the summer road crew. As I turned onto South Lake Rd I spent the next 5 miles dodging earth movers, asphalt crews, one way dirt roads with flaggers, etc. Every time I had to stop to wait my turn to go through I could only think of two things. First, the poor cars in back of me had to wait for me to peddle through until they could pass me. Second, afternoon thunderstorms are coming and I need to get up and out of here! Double anxiety if you will. Still, the views were spectacular and the further I rode the more impressive they became.

The river became more prominent not only from an auditory level, but also more sights and experiences came into view. Fly fisherman wading into the stream, the same type of trout seekers were pushing out into a backwater in their belly boats, and finally the incline of the stream became more dramatic and thunderous.

I drew a correlation from my anxiety to the perceived anxiety of the stream. The stream was getting squeezed and the more it was stressed the louder and faster it moved. The angle was more aggressive downhill at the same time it was shrinking in width. The water was moving faster, the sound was louder. More power moving through a tighter space stressing the system.

As the incline of the stream increased so did the incline of my road. According to my gps I should be getting close to the summit. All of a sudden, I crested to view a dam, a boat landing, and an spectacular view of a mountain reservoir surrounded by mountains jutting straight out of it.

There were a number of people up here either hiking or boating/canoeing/kayaking in the lake. I parked my bike against a picnic table and plunged my hand into the lake to find that it almost froze off even though it was the middle of August and the valley floor was going to be 107 degrees today. It seemed such a dramatic contrast, but fitting for the Sierras that laugh at us mortal humans and our requirement for things to make sense and fall in line with our beliefs solely intended to make us feel comfortable.

The Sierras aren’t comfortable. They make us alert and make us adapt. They make us deal with ourselves. There is no looking the other way when you are up here and in their care or lake of. They make you get your shit together. They make you get real about who you are and what you are. Otherwise, bad things can happen if you don’t. I love that about them. It strips away all the other things in life and you get to the core of who you are because you have to.

In all, this was a 22 mile climb with virtually no break. Granted, there are few moments where you are climbing anything close to 10% or above. That being said, it is a very long grind and in the summer the first 30% can be a hot one which means the last 30% can be even hotter which it was. Literally, a giant hair dryer in your face on the way down as it was over 100 degrees on my way down. A stark difference from the high 60’s that I experienced at the summit. I literally experienced a 40 degree temperature climb as I coasted down from the summit to downtown Bishop. Crazy! That’s the Sierras!