Shasta Snow Trip is like a roller coaster in at least two ways:
The beginning of February, I sent Gene an email asking for his opinion. I was concerned about three things. My truck lacked a functioning handbrake, has four newish bias ply truck tires and an old bias ply spare, and finally a paint job that is about one year old. I was concerned that having a functioning handbrake would be important. The tires are fine for road travel but would they be okay off-road or with chains on them? Finally, I was concerned about the dangers to a new paint job. Gene reassured me that all of the dangers to paint and all the rigors of off-roading were optional. He encouraged me to fix the handbrake and to get a CB.
The weekend before the trip I spent the whole day trying to fix the handbrake situation. In the end I failed. Jon spent less than four hours the day of departure and not only installed modified cables but replaced the faulty brake light switch and made sure the heat system had no leaks. He also got me a deli sandwich for dinner on the road and waved me off preferring to stay home himself and spend quality time with the kitty.
It was the next day that the kind Shasta Snow Trip folks were able to rally parts and expertise in Willits to install a CB in my truck. A length of wire, some alligator clips, a toggle switch, voltage inverter, CB and antenna and a door holder and I was good to go. It turns out that a CB is as essential as having a reliable bus.
During the trip I either was freezing in the snow, freezing in the rain, getting gassed by my truck's most excellent if toxic smelling heat or experiencing physical pain from total lack of sleep. I also had an absolute blast and feel truly sorry the trip is over!
I left Monterey early evening Thursday with my truck's odometer reading at 44910. I returned to Monterey late afternoon Monday with my truck's odometer reading at 46009. During the 1100 miles my truck proved itself an awesome machine of endurance, strength and agility. My driving skills were proved either better than average or governed by a complete lack of sense and reason... depending on how one might look at the situation.
The Shasta Snow Trip group mainly drove back roads beginning in Guerneville (N.W. of S.F. about two hours) to Mt. Shasta (S. of the Oregon border by about 30 minutes) then Mt. Shasta to Lakeport (S.W. of S.F. about three hours). The first part of the trip beginning Friday morning dark was about 18 hours long. I didn't keep track of where we were driving and mostly just followed the vehicle in front of me trying not to crash into anything.
The highpoint among many that day was driving over the mountain into the Mt. Shasta area. We'd already been driving about 16 hours. It was dark and cold with rain giving way to snow and while fairly warm in my truck, the heater was putting out toxic smelling fumes that had me worried about my mental state and permanent damage. Toward the summit my truck's bias ply tires started to loose traction on the snow. We'd round corners sideways, then as the tires lost more traction we progressed at less than a walking pace. I was a little wound up because while I'd practiced putting on the chains at home, I'd not been wholly successful. As a result I had the RPMs fairly high which made the cab really warm though did nothing for the rate of travel. Our group of buses became two groups, separated into those with traction up ahead in the dark someplace and me and Susan way in the back. Her company did a lot for my state of mind. Finally on a somewhat flat stretch we stopped and I shifted all the weight I could easily get my hands on to the back of my truck. We were able to go from a speed that didn't even register on my speedometer to 15 miles per hour and caught up with the others at the summit. By the time we got to the hotel I was truly exhausted from the adventures of the day. Gene hooked up the video player so that we could watch some of the footage from earlier that day. I really wanted to watch it all but it was painful to remain awake.
The two highpoints of the next day were ice fishing up at Castle Lake and the cookout up at Bunny Flat. Of course the higher elevations meant snow and the urge to get squirrelly in it was overwhelming. I don't know the first thing about ice fishing so I watched. Gene had never been successful catching fish at Castle Lake but this time he caught two fish. Richard using just a spool of line and fishing from a hole that looked like it'd been made by a boot caught three fish. After Castle Lake we headed to Bunny Flat for dinner alfresco. Once at the top we circled the buses, started a fire and ate the most delicious food. The fish from earlier that day may have been the best I've had which says a lot coming from someone who lives on the coast with local fish markets all over town. We stood around for about four hours swapping stories and lies. Then it was back down the mountain, having fun on the snowy roads, but not before several bus pilots tried their hand at doing donuts in the deserted parking lot.
The next day it was time to drive, drive and drive some more. The driving this day did not seem too grueling when compared to Friday... though when I was offered a place to sleeping three or so hours from home, I was on it! Of course I'd already been driving at least 12 hours by then. Anyway the highpoints of the day were the river crossing and then the whole series of roads, paved and not, from somewhere near the river all the way to Lakeport. By the time we got to the river it was running high and fast because of all the rain the preceding days... but not high enough to dissuade two bus pilots, Brian and Tim, who drove right into the river and got stuck about half way across straight away. We got Tim's bus out and he almost immediately got it stuck in the mud. Susan made grilled cheese sandwiches, Gene made popcorn, and a cop came buy to offer assistance and stayed a while to watch. Despite the continual rain, it was quite the party atmosphere. We got the buses unstuck, hit the road again and traveled some incredibly scenic back roads.
I had been led to believe that there were optional parts of the driving experience but had yet to find an opportunity to opt out of anything. It was finally on some unpaved muddy road, in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, that I could opt to either park up on the road or venture down either side into some sort of partial clearing with ruts, humps and puddles. It was dark and only the headlights shown what was about. I didn't need to think twice and I was down one embankment and then the other. One puddle my truck and I splashed through turned out to be a bit deeper than I realized and I was surprised by brown water momentarily dimming my truck's headlights and splashing up on the windscreens. After playing around in the clearings we headed down off the mountain into Lakeport. Shortly after beginning the descent, the trees on one side of the dirt road cleared way to show a spread of tiny lights around a large dark area; it was the lake and surrounding towns. Of course there were no guardrails and the lights looked impossibly small but after the adventures of the weekend, the sight was very pretty and not so scary as I might have thought.
We said our goodbyes in Lake Port and pretty much split up to go home. After all the shared adventure of the weekend, I felt suddenly lonely. Even though it would only be a matter of weeks or months before I saw everyone at various shows and campouts, it would be a year before we could share the kind of weekend we had just finished.
For those who have sturdy buses and are hardy and adventurous, to whom the allure of adventure off the grid appeals, those who enjoy driving their buses, the activities of winter snow and who enjoy the company of other bus pilots then Shasta Snow Trip wants you to experience its awe inspiring majesty!