In the 1960s, Tim’s grandpa built a cabin himself in the mountains above Bishop, CA, in the small town of Aspendell. Named after the many little groves of aspen trees all over the area, Tim’s grandpa spent a lot of time at his cabin fishing, hiking, and enjoying the scenery of the Eastern Sierras. Unfortunately, I never had the privilege to meet his Papa John, but he was loved dearly by many and respected by even more. One of his final wishes was to have his and his faithful dog, Boss’s, ashes scattered at the base of Cardinal Peak by his sons and grandsons in a very clearly marked spot.
We drove up to Aspendell on a late Wednesday night after Tim’s work and my school with minimal stops. Last year, we made a weekend trip to Lone Pine and Whitney Portal for a siblings attempt at Mount Whitney, so I had seen a lot of the scenery before and I wasn’t too bummed about missing the sights of the drive.
The drive was a peaceful one–very few people were on the road, and all the stars and the Milky Way were visible as we cruised up the 395 and then headed up the mountain to Aspendell.
The next morning, all of Papa John’s children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren gathered together to remember him for a moment before the scattering of the ashes.
Pap John loved the Eastern Sierras and Aspendell so much that he took a picture of Cardinal’s Peak and circled exactly where he wanted his final resting place to be.
While the sons and grandsons went up the mountain, the rest of us waited down at the field below to observe their progress. Among all of us, we had a single pair of binoculars, so we spent a lot of time trying to pick out the small figures climbing up the steep grade squinting and saying, “I think that’s someone?” or “There they are! … but I can’t tell who that is!”
When they finally reached the top (maybe an hour and a half later), they walkie-talkied down saying, “We are releasing the ashes,” and then it was done. It was a pretty emotional moment, especially for those closest to Papa John.
After the summit to the base of Cardinal Peak was completed, the six hikers returned to camp, recovered, and then we had our memorial lunch at the Cardinal Valley Lodge where everyone who wanted to got to share something about Papa John.
After our lunch festivities, we all hung around a little longer, and then everyone split up to their respective lodgings. Tim and I decided to go fishing with his dad, and on the way, we stopped at Papa John’s original cabin that he had built in the 1960s. It was a nostalgic moment for Tim, who hadn’t seen the cabin since his grandfather sold it, but still remembered all the fun times that he had when he had stayed at it. Apparently, not too much had changed.
After taking a quick peek at the cabin, we headed to the reservoir to try our luck at fishing. The day before, Tim’s dad had caught a few trout, so we were hoping for the same.
We fished for about an hour and a half, where I learned to cast a fishing line and Tim decided he wanted to buy a fishing pole and go fishing more often. Hehe. It was quite nice to spend time with Tim’s dad and just enjoy the silence and the nature and the relaxation that comes with fishing in a lake.
The rest of our day was pretty uneventful–we had dinner at the cabin with just Tim’s immediate family, made s’mores, and then turned in for an early night.
The next morning, Andy had the idea of having all three brothers run from the 395 highway back up the mountain to Aspendell–a mere 17 miles. Tim’s dad dropped them off at 6:30 AM and followed them as they ran, making sure they were hydrated (and still alive. Hehe.). Tim conked out after 12 miles, and Jeff after maybe 14 miles. Andy was the last brother standing as he ran back to the Cardinal Village Resort and arrived sometime later.
Once everyone got back, we made some hasty goodbyes and headed home to pick up the doggies and stop for a quick diner breakfast in Bishop at Jack’s. Whenever Tim has done a long run, he almost ALWAYS wants a huge plate of American breakfast–usually some kind of omelette with a huge stack of pancakes. Today was no exception. Jack’s pretty much fit the bill of American breakfast diner fare to a T.
It’s funny how similar Bishop feels to the town of Lone Pine. Last year when we went to Lone Pine, we ate at an American restaurant that felt almost IDENTICAL to Jack’s. I think a lot of these small mountain towns on the eastern side of the Sierras feel very similar in look and feel. Hmm.
Because I like to collect stickers to put on my suitcase and Tim likes to put metal signs up in the garage, we stopped at the 395 Souvenir Store to pick some up, and then began the 4.5 hour drive home.
Until next time!
– Sara