After hearing about a shark attack in Northernmost CA and a seal washing up in Santa Barbara with it's guts dangling out, I decided to skip Santa Cruz this weekend and head for the hills. With no real plans, 2 days off, and forgetting to bring my atlas, I got off work saturday afternoon and drove south into No-Cell-Coverage-Country ending up in Markleeville. My backup plan is always to grab a site at some organized pay-campground. But I always feel like a fat, soft American if I pay for a campground when I should be able to sleep for free. Outside town I spotted a crappy road that lead to a mellow little landing pad along some tiny, nearly empty creek. I was bear bait along that creek, but it was awesome. The temps got down to the low 20's but I was toasty inside with my new shiney insulation and a Lil Buddy space heater. I love pissing out the front door into nature. The next day I packed up and slowly cruized north-northwest towards Kirkwood and South Lake Tahoe. I needed to take a peek at the area and spy Kirkwood for winter camping and shredding. I stopped and fished along a gorgeous stretch of the West Fork of the Carson River. There were some hogs in there that laughed at my cast, I definitely didn't have the right flys. The Stimulator is my go-to, and it wasn't working either. So I snagged a couple tiny little fuckers, called it an afternoon, and drove into South Lake for the second night. Today I got back on the river early and fished a couple spots along the way home. Might have to try my hand at gold panning next time. Mother lode, bitches.