Snake Island

There is always a moment in time we wish we could have back. The memory can be triggered by certain music or smells. My triggers are roasted hot dogs and the song "Chloroform". We were four strong, set off on an uncertain adventure. 3200 miles in 28 days with a vague itinerary. We loaded the car full of camping gear, minus the pillows, to our third stop, Lake Tahoe. It was summer and the weather was perfect. The water was so clear, you could almost see the bottom in every direction. I drove to the South Shore, on the California side,with the windows down just to soak it all in. The area was so crowded with tourists, I had to head back north. I drove into the first turn off I found, which was William Kent Campground. It was a little further from the water than we would have liked, but secluded enough to feel like a getaway. The area would have been great for bike riding. The original plan was to stay two nights and move on to the next location. We pitched the tent and spent the first evening roasting hot dogs and watching the exceptionally clear, night sky. The second day was mostly spent exploring the South Shore and getting ready for our morning departure. As we were leaving, the plans for our next stop suddenly fell through. My solution was to stay two more nights in Tahoe. We left to find a new camp ground, closer to the water. I drove for at least an hour, trying to find an available spot. Most places were full, so close to a holiday weekend, that we ended up going back original campsite and choosing a new spot. The next day we set out to find a fishing hole. We stopped at a spot just past King's Bay, in what we now call Snake Island. We made the 30 minute climb down to the cove, only to find an infestation of snakes 15 minutes later. Our discovery even surprised the locals. That adventure killed our desire to fish, but the water was beckoning for us to come in, so I found a pier on Crystal Bay. We rented paddle boards, and a local let us borrow their kayak, to explore the lake. After that, we crossed into the Nevada side to gamble at a sleepy little casino, with no luck. On our final day, I wanted to do something adventurous, so we went rafting down the Truckee River. The water was amazingly calm and warm, and the locals were great. We ended our time just how we began it there, roasting hot dogs. The smell still makes me as calm and tranquil as those turquoise waters. In the end, not having a plan, was the best plan of all. Everything was perfection.