Snow Bound

Morning sunlight scattered off the ermine summit of 13,748-foot Morgan Peak, warming the crisp air as my waxed cross-country/telemark skis glided over the snow-covered road. Rivulets of sweat formed on my forehead, dribbling sun block into my eyes. Minutes earlier, a snowmobile loaded with luggage had roared past me, making short work of the two-mile-plus trek to the lodge; I was taking the more leisurely approach.

My destination was worth my efforts: Rock Creek Lodge, set in what pioneering Sierra mountaineer Norman Clyde called the prettiest canyon in the eastern Sierra.

In winter, when the snow falls deep enough to block the road, the only way to get to Rock Creek Winter Lodge is on skis or snowshoes or by snowmobile. I chose to ski in because it would help my body adjust to the 9,000-foot altitude and allow me to savor the canyon.

I’ve been visiting Rock Creek Lodge, on the edge of the John Muir Wilderness in the Inyo National Forest, and skiing the surrounding back country off and on for more than 20 years.

Winter snows came late to the Sierra this year, twice delaying my trip. But when one storm after another dumped snow by the cloud load in late February, I rushed to pack up my ski gear. Rock Creek Canyon usually gets its share of snow and more. In fact, in late February the avalanche hazard was too high in the back country to risk skiing there, but the area around the lodge was safe. Assuming normal weather this spring, conditions everywhere should settle down comfortably, and the lodge is expected to remain open at least until the end of April.

I left on a recent Friday, driving five hours from Los Angeles and spending the night in Bishop, about 30 miles southeast of Rock Creek Lodge. Saturday morning I called the lodge to confirm that the Sno-Cats were running--in case I wanted to load my luggage on one, something most guests prefer to do. They were, so I drove up U.S. 395, turned west at Toms Place and headed up winding Rock Creek Canyon Road to the east fork of Rock Creek.

About seven miles up the well-plowed road, I parked my car at the state-maintained lot for a $5 day fee (a season pass is $25). Beyond the lot lay the unplowed road leading to Rock Creek Lodge. Stepping into my ski bindings, I began the leisurely uphill stride to the lodge. The grade is gentle enough, but a beginner cross-country skier may want to hitch a ride on a lodge Sno-Cat.

It wasn’t long until a sign pointed the way across a wooden bridge that spans rowdy Rock Creek. Cabins soon appeared on my left, scattered among the snowdrifts and lodgepole pines. Then, to my right, the weathered wood lodge appeared, smoke rising from the chimney. I felt a sense of homecoming when I saw it.

The old, one-room lodge house has been expanded over the years to provide a casual check-in area, a small store with T-shirts and snacks, ski wax, rental skis, boots and poles, maps and other essentials. It was built in 1926, part of a planned alpine ski area and fishing resort to be called Little Switzerland and funded by a group of Hollywood outdoors enthusiasts. But it was overshadowed by the popularity of Mammoth Mountain 25 miles to the north. The lodge languished for decades until a collection of wild, woolly back-country skiers, guides and friends reopened it in 1977 as a wilderness cross-country ski base.

John Moynier, a guide, skier, writer and photographer who shared in the lodge’s resurrection, called it “a commune where, instead of growing vegetables, we grew back-country skiers. Rock Creek is still run by people who have a love for the mountains.”

That’s one of the main reasons I keep returning. The staff members are welcoming and highly skilled skiers. Marc Vernon, a 28-year-old who was a ski racer in Canada, has led the lodge’s cross-country ski school for the last five years. Classes are offered for skiers of all levels on the nearby meadows and hillsides. There are about nine miles of groomed cross-country trails around the lodge and, for skilled skiers, miles of untracked open spaces in the back country.

During the coldest winter months, the snow comes as close to powder as the Sierra ever gets. In spring, more granular “corn” snow appears--”ego snow,” skiers call it, because it is so easy to make turns that even a novice skier can look really hot.

I checked in and asked for one of the smaller, modern cabins, mostly out of curiosity--in the past I’ve always toughed it out in the older cabins. In the ‘70s, the accommodations were decidedly rustic. Wood-burning stoves in the cabins usually went out during the night, and sleeping bags rated to zero degrees were necessities. The trek to the outhouse over an icy path was a challenge.

Today, under a new owner, the 13 cabins, which sleep up to eight people on double beds, have been reasonably winterized. Chinks in the walls have been plugged, and insulation has been added. But since temperatures can drop toward zero and the wood-burning stoves don’t always provide adequate heat, a warm sleeping bag is still a must. Seven of the more modern cabins have hot and cold running water and bathrooms with showers; five of those either have two rooms or a main room and a loft. Five other cabins and a dorm area that sleeps six are more rustic, with older stoves and no indoor plumbing. Breakfast, dinner and Sno-Cat rides up the road are included in the price of an overnight stay. By any standard, Rock Creek Lodge is not a luxury resort.

I peered into the main lodge room, where a couple on a sofa and a pair of preteen children were relaxing. The adults were chatting quietly while the youngsters watched one of the lodge’s many videos. There’s no television reception and no telephones in the cabins, but no one misses them. Since my last visit a couple of years ago, the lodge had installed a huge wood-burning stove to provide heat. It does a much better job than the old fireplace ever did.

I headed outside to the dining hall. Plunking myself down at a table to doctor a blister on my right heel, I looked forward to one of the lodge’s mouthwatering dinners: black-eyed pea soup seasoned with ham hock, freshly baked bread, green salad, pork roast, gravy, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli and cauliflower plus chocolate mousse.

The lodge has a reputation for hearty, healthy and delicious meals, supervised by Jan Huffstutler, who began working here in 1984. Her welcoming hug made me feel right at home.

Breakfasts feature a rotating menu of pancakes, French toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, hot cereals, milk, juice, coffee and hot chocolate. No one ever leaves hungry.

Meals are served family style, usually in two seatings, on long wooden tables. It’s a congenial atmosphere: Everyone recounts their experiences of the day, and the staff brings the diners up to date on weather and plans for the next day. People who were strangers on arrival are soon acquaintances.

After dinner, guests often drift back to the main lodge or go for an evening ski across a meadow. Much of my first day had been overcast, but after dinner the clouds drifted away and the sparkling sky was unveiled. There was no way I could sit in the lodge. Star shine and moonlight reflected off the snow as my skis pushed through fresh powder. Edging across the meadow, I looked up the canyon, where summits were etched darkly against the night sky. To my right, Rock Creek chattered against the snowy bank, tugging my skis down toward the water’s edge. I became absorbed in the silence of the night.

By the time I returned to the lodge, about 9 p.m., nearly everyone had turned in. I followed the others and headed for my simply furnished cabin. After lighting a small fire in the stove, just to take the chill off, I snuggled under the blankets and into my sleeping bag and drifted off to the sound of sighing pines.

The clouds returned Sunday morning with the promise of more snow. As I pointed my skis down the road toward East Fork, my mind strayed back to previous years when I had skied the high bowls at the top of the canyon.

On this trip, because heavy snowfall had made avalanche conditions dangerous, I had to settle for hopping off the road and linking telemark turns down the shorter side slopes. The high bowls could wait. I knew I’d be back.

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Budget for One

Rock Creek modern cabin (one night): $112.00

Super 8 motel, Bishop: 51.49

Gasoline: 78.00

East Fork SnoPark: 5.00

Lunches on road: 20.82

Breakfast in Bishop: 6.15

Two sack lunches: 13.00

Rock Creek T-shirt: 15.00

FINAL TAB: $301.46

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Rock Creek Lodge, Route 1, Box 12, Mammoth Lakes, CA 93546; tel. toll-free (877) 935-4170 or (760) 935-4170.

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Dan Blackburn is a television correspondent in Los Angeles.