My new best friend at the Mammoth Lakes Visitor Center suggests that I camp at the Lower Lee Vinings Campground just outside of the small town of Lee Vinings along Hwy 395.  He says this will be the perfect place for me to go from “furnace to forest” after two nights in Death Valley, while also offering a convenient location to explore Mono Lake.

Turn-out leading to Lower Lee Vinings Campground.

Look through the trees to see pretty mountain view from campground.

Lower Lee Vinings Campground

The little campground is located within scenic view of a giant snow-covered mountain, with a little rushing creek running right alongside the campsites.  There are only three other people in the campground, but still I pick a spot away from the others in a small grove of budding Aspen trees.   The sound of the tumbling stream acts like a balm on my psychological burns from the last two days.

Volcanic domes near Mono Lake

These neon red flowers were all throughout the marsh. Look like Texas “Indian Paint Brushes,” though much brighter!

Mono Lake is only about a mile on the other side of Lee Vinings, and about three miles from the campground. It is a saline soda lake, formed over 760,000 years ago. It now plays a vital role as temporary “oasis” for two million migratory waterbirds of 35 different species who stop over to feed on the brine shrimp in the lake. Close your eyes and listen to the cry of the California Gulls echoing across the water, along with the briny smell, and it’s easy to fool oneself into thinking it is the sea.

Mono Lake is twice is salty as the ocean. Why so salty? Because water flows in, but there is no way out.  With no outlet, salt deposits have collected over millions of years.  With an evaporation rate of four feet per year, the salt and alkalinity are highly concentrated.

The “mounds” in the center of the lake are volcanic, but do not appear to be so because they are actually lake sediment which was pushed up by magma as recently as 300 years ago. But what really stands out are the tall towers of “tufa,” (a form of limestone) which at first glimpse could be mistaken for snow.  Instead, they are formations caused from calcium-rich spring water bubbling up into the alkaline lake water.   There are boating warnings on the lake, as these towers of tufa grow underwater.  It is only because of water diversion that began in 1941 has caused the lake level to drop, making the towers now visible above the surface.

Mark Twain called Mono Lake “a lifeless, treeless, hideous desert… the loneliest place on earth.”  True, there is no one around for miles when I arrive at sundown.   I want to photograph the tall tufa towers in the sun, but once again, I forget to compensate for the tall bank of mountains on the west side of Hwy 395.  By the time I get to the bottom of the little gravel road, the sun is dropping fast.  I have to hurry if I want to catch the sunlight on the tallest of the pinnacles.

I pull into the parking lot, but there is a $3 fee.  I don’t have anything smaller than a twenty!  If I take the time to go back into town, I will miss the sunset, so I decide to just risk it.  I grab my “big camera” (the Nikon DSLR as opposed to my usual point and shoot) and take off for the edge of the lake as fast as my legs will carry me.  There is a narrow path that leads down to the shoreline.   In my haste, I completely miss the nice boardwalk off to the right of the parking lot.

I am trying to work my way around the shoreline to the tall pinnacles out in the lake, but it is getting “marshier and marshier.”   People have made makeshift crossings out of rocks and boards, so it is a bit of a maze through the bog.

By now, the sun is edging behind the mountain, so I am practically in a sprint across the tufa (I later read the sign that asks you to please use the boardwalk and stay off the tufa.  Ooopsa! )   I am following the stones that someone has carefully laid across the bog, when I find myself cornered. Just like with the water, there is no way out.  I try to backtrack, and step on one of the smaller ones, which sinks into the mud about six inches.   This causes me to lose my balance, and into the bog I go.  My foot sinks to my knee, and my hand sinks to my elbow.  As I try to extract myself, I seem to be getting deeper.  Finally, I get hold of a larger rock and pull myself out — the stinky, briny, slimy bog dripping from the tips of my fingers.   Well, the bright side to this debacle?   My Nikon DSLR was in the OTHER hand!!   And I now have the perfect excuse for a new pair of athletic shoes!

While at Mono Lake, I also had my first encounter  with “no see ‘ums.”  I have heard about these from my sailing days, but I have never actually been bitten…until now.  They somehow worked their way into my hair and bit me all over my scalp!  For a week, I had large whelps on my scalp that itched to the point that I had to drug myself with Benadryl to keep from pulling my hair out!

So my advice if you stop by Mono Lake?  Bring insect repellant.  And bring three single dollar bills so you can pay the entrance fee.  That way, they can erect a sign for careless people like me that says, “Boardwalk THIS WAY!” —>