I did not want to sleep late this saturday morning. An early internet survey had given me an idea that this place was full of locations to visit and activities to indulge in and I had only two days to make the most of. Having noticed the night before that my room had a coffee maker, dragging myself out of the bed wasn't too difficult. I peeped though the curtain folds and found the sun shining bright and inviting. Another wide eyed look at the watch said it was already half past eleven. The morning hadn't made itself early after all!
We hovered over the map and other tourist brochures to figure out our itinerary for the day and finally decided to drive to all the vista points enlisted. A Lakeside beach pass was handed by the small-eyed lady at the reception last night and that is where we headed first.
What lay before me was a Lake? I needed a reminder. The first exclamation in my mind was almost heard aloud...this looks like a clean ocean 6000 feet above sea level!
Lake Tahoe or the da ow a ga in aboriginal native, is 22 miles in length and 12 miles across. A major part of the 71 miles shoreline lies in California and another 29 miles in Nevada. It has all the water sufficient to fill a canal as wide and deep as the Panama and extend in length to run around the earth along the equator while still leaving some to fill another similar channel running from San Francisco to New York!
Statistics apart... the view was enrapturing. I stood close to the waves splashing on the tiny rocks on the beach. The stones polished by the regular wet lashes glistened in the sun. The water was completely transparent here. A little farther from the shore where perhaps the depth increases, an calm emerald green appears which slowly but deceivingly blends into the aquamarine. The farthest that I could see was the lake kissing the horizon, where it became the deepest blue that I can imagine.
Having soaked in the beauty of the azure and twiddled my toes in the sand and of course acted like the best photographer on earth, I headed back to the road for a drive along the southwestern shoreline.
On my left and beyond the strip of hotels, motels, eateries and others, they stood tall and overwhelming. The pine clad mountains looked majestic, empowering and stoic, all at once. I was imagining how they will look in a few weeks to come when it starts snowing and they begin to dress up in white. Barren stretches along their faces looked like ski trails for the ensuing winter season. Several ropes extend from the top to somewhere below. Gandola rides along these ropeways give a picturesque view of the lake from above. To my right were beautiful lake side cabins and motels, tiny biking trails lined mostly by jogging grannies and helmet clad kids. The enthusiasm of the extreme ends was admirable and amusing at the same time.
We reached Tallac Historic Estates. Wealthy families built idyllic holiday retreats in Tahoe where they could enjoy the rustic unspoilt charm of nature without compromising on the lavish lives they were accustomed to. These have been preserved as historic estates by the government and some of them have since been converted to museums. One of these was the Baldwin cabin. A courtyard, with a fairy-tale-like well in the centre and heavy wooden furniture sprawled around, leads to the cabin entrance. The inside welcomes one with a huge fireplace and cushioned wooden chairs around it. Wooden artifacts belonging to the original habitants of Tahoe, the Washoe Indians, an old piano (still capable of delivering the best string sounds), a wooden bear symbolizing the bear country, a hundred year old blackboard, a hunting gun, some exquisite cutlery and chinaware, the old water heating system, an old icebox (from where you can still pick up a bottle of chilled water) which is a cabinet behind mirrored glass that cools using water directly from the Fallen leaf lake, a washing machine with a manual clothes wringing device were amongst the most interesting items on display.
However, the most interesting part was behind the cabin. It rear opens to a beach which is almost paradoxically soothing to the senses and enthralling to the heart. All I could hear was the sound of the waves and rustling of the leaves. It was so engaging that it required us a sincere effort to leave the place.
The road ahead narrowed to a single lane as we drove uphill. After an hours drive, we reached 'Inspiration Point Vista'. True to the sobriquet it bears, the place is a painters' delight and a poets' recluse! As I stood there imbibing the green of the Emerald Bay below and the blue of the main lake far beyond, I knew I will end up writing something about it soon.
We moved on further north towards another vista point which took us around the bay area and behind Fannette, Tahoe's solitary island. I scrambled over the rocky remains off the surrounding granite mountains to witness the sapphire coloured water from the highest peak attainable on foot.
Following the sparse directions on the map, we set out to locate the Old Lighthouse, the highest elevation lighthouse admiring the dense woods of the D.L. Bliss State Park along the way. We failed to locate the lighthouse, instead the pursuit took us farther north to the Meeks Bay, an old fishing site for the Washoe Indians, the tribe inhabiting Tahoe for over 10,000 years.
Our adventurous spirit yet unsatiated, we retraced our route to follow directions for the Fallen Leaf lake, It seemed like an unending journey before we finally sighted the lake. It was beautiful but having met its bigger cousin earlier, we could not appreciate it more than taking a walk down its long jetty, braving the wind. The sun shone its brightest orange like the final attempt of a burning oil lamp right before being extinguished. With my growing desire to sail in a boat towards the sunset, I turned back to take the road again.
The boat rentals closed before we reached the marina. Heck! If I were rich enough, I could still make it! we thought; looking impishly towards isolated private boats still in water. Lets wait a few more years....
