Western Express Day #23 Kit Carson Campground (USFS), CA to Plymouth, CA

Western Express Day #23

June 23 2021

Kit Carson Campground (USFS), CA to Plymouth, CA - 86 Miles

Start 7:07AM, Finish 7:49PM

Ride Time: 7:59

Ascent: 4458'

Descent: 10692'

Tour Total Miles: 1535

Details at: https://cyclemeter.com/3f1ef27914a4c684/Cycle-20210623-0706-84451

I slept well at Kit Carson USFS campground in site number one. It got chilly last evening after I set up my tent. I sat at the picnic table and finished yesterday’s report while enjoying Sierra Nevada‘s and pretzels. I put on my sweater and then added my rain jacket. I admired the large fir and aspen trees that towered above me. The roar of motor traffic on nearby highway 88 was loud but it settled during the night, and I could hear a rushing stream. It was forecast to go down into the high 30s, so I set up the tent fly and completely zipped up my sleeping bag. I got up in the middle of the night to water a bush and drink some water. I woke up this morning with the sunlight, packed up my tent, and headed back to the route. I stopped back at the café to deposit my garbage and poach a little Wi-Fi. I passed a sign saying elevation 7000’ as I climbed back up towards the intersection of Highway 89.

I reached the spot where yesterday I had met day-cyclist Christie. It was a gorgeous meadow with a roaring stream surrounded by ridges and cedar trees. There was still sage brush sprinkled along the roadside. I continued on State Highway 88 towards Kit Carson pass. It was a beautiful morning and there was less motor traffic headed up toward the pass. I was wearing my short-sleeve jersey, cycling shorts, sweater, and rain jacket. My fingertips were chilly as well as my legs.

The steep grade began which warmed me up, so I pulled over to remove my rain jacket. I saw a deer standing on the side of the road, until it got skittish and disappeared into the trees. And then I passed a fresh roadkill deer in the ditch. It had velvety antlers and had just recently been alive. It was sad.

I was seeing lots of pretty wild flowers today, which was particularly nice after the barren desert. I passed the gate capable of shutting down the highway in case of a winter storm. I pulled over to remove my sweater. I admired 10,040’ Red Lake Peak as I made my way up the pass. I enjoyed the combination of the red dirt and rock, together with the green grass. I was climbing above the tree line and could see the pass ahead of me. I passed 8000’ elevation but there was no sign. It was 8:40 AM. I stopped at a viewing area where I could see Red Lake down below.

I finally got to the top of 8650’ Carson Pass. I met some day hikers who were exploring local trails. The Pacific Crest Trail crosses the Western Express Bike Route here. There was a parking lot and a visitor center. I took photos of the elevation sign and commemorative obelisk. I put on my sweater and rain jacket for the downhill and entered El Dorado National forest. There was roadwork ahead and one-way road traffic ahead. I stopped and waited with the flag person.

I met eastbound cyclist Bob, from Chicago and originally from Philadelphia. He was riding from San Francisco to El Paso, and had rear yellow Ortleib panniers and a Rack Pack exactly like me. I came to the man-made Caples Lake and rode across the dam with sweeping views of snow speckled mountain ranges to the left. Soon afterwards I crossed over the Amador County line and entered the town of Kirkwood, population 158 and elevation 7682’.

I took off my rain jacket and continued more climbing. I passed beautiful rock formations high above me on the ridges, and also at road level. It was a stunning region. I then began the climb up to the summit of Carson Spur, elevation 7990’. After the second pass I had a fantastic downhill on 7% grades where I sped thirty-five miles an hour. Then I had another climb. I rode past Silver Lake and considered going down the road towards Kit Carsons Lodge, but decided not to. It was after 10AM and I was starting to get hungry. The climbing began again, and I pulled over to remove my sweater.

I passed Tragedy Spring and the Mormon Emigrant Trail. It was 11:00AM and I stopped to apply sunscreen. I had a nice little downhill and then some more climbing. I was still above 7200’. After a brief downhill I passed a sign saying Elevation 7000’. I stopped at an overlook for the Bear River Reservoir. After a beautiful stretch and downhill through pine trees I passed a sign saying Elevation 6000’.

I came to an even steeper downhill where I sped thirty-five miles an hour and left El Dorado National Forest. I arrived at Ham Station which was closed. I had heard that it was closed on Tuesday and Wednesdays, and I was now hungry. A few more miles down the road I stopped at Cooks Station where I stopped and ordered a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and two Cokes. Cooks Station was established in 1863 and had seen it’s share of wagon trains, cattle drives, and even the Pony Express.

When I got back on the road, I forgot that I was supposed to turn off of Highway 88. I had known about the turn-off, as well as the consequences if I missed it. That said, I continued down Highway 88 where I was met with construction signs signaling one-way traffic and a pilot car ahead. I stopped and waited for the pilot car, and was first in line. When it was time to go I traveled downhill through the construction area where they were widening the road cut. Afterwards I encountered a new section of asphalt and was surrounded by thick groves of cedar trees.

About 2000’ below Cooks Station I realized that I had missed the turn. I was supposed to be on Omo Ranch Road. Rather than turn around, I decided to stay on Highway 88, where I could eventually connect with Highway 49 which would take me back to my destination in Plymouth. I knew exactly where I was and where I was going, but I felt uncomfortable about being off route. I was now at 4000’ elevation.

In Pioneer I stopped at a roadside cherry stand. The fruit was ripe and really sweet tasting. I was now at 2400’ elevation. The next town was Pine Grove, population 3066 and elevation 2499’. I left State Highway 88 and took a right on Climax Road which was gorgeous. I pedaled for a few miles to Ridge Road. I passed the Amador Castle, a large eccentric ranch with a ferris wheel and amusement park rides in front of a castle-like structure that was surrounded by large animal sculptures.

I climbed up over a ridge and from the vantage point I could see nothing but flat plains ahead to the west. I had made it over the Sierra Nevada Range. I saw a large vineyard to my left. There were outstanding beautiful blooming flower bushes in people’s front yards. I finally came to Highway 49, where I took a right and headed north towards Plymouth, my day’s destination. I crossed over Sutter Creek and passed numerous roadkill skunks.

I had two empty water bottles that kept sliding out of their respective bottle cages. I realized that it was because of air pressure. I had gone from over 7000’ in the morning to under 800’ in the afternoon. I stopped to open the valves and allow air in. The high altitude part of the tour, which was practically the entire route, was now over. The air was now definitely warmer. I was surrounded by golden dry grass, cattle ranches, and vineyards.

At long last I entered Plymouth, population 1005 and elevation 1086’. My mistake had cost me eleven miles. I rode to the Amador Brewery, which was only allowing take-out only today, with a four pack tall-boy minimum. I really like to sample local beers and write about them in my blog. It was a bummer that the bartender couldn’t pour me a pint on the down low. I rode down the block to the Plymouth Trading Post and purchased two Sierra Nevada tall-boys and sat at a picnic table in a roadside park. I worked on this report and later walked over to a food truck where I ordered dirty fries with bacon, cheese and jalapeños along with a garden salad.

When eastbound cyclists Ricky and Alissa had come through Plymouth, they had stayed at the Shenandoah Inn, which they said was expensive. There were no camping options and my plan was to stealth camp. Tomorrow I would get a hotel in Sacramento. Outside of Plymouth, a little ways down Old Sacramento Road I located a cow pasture with a perfect secluded spot.