May Posterity

The first time I had the pleasure of camping at McGee Creek in the Eastern Sierra’s Owens Valley was in 1992. I was fifteen years old, and I sneaked my first beer from an unsupervised ice chest.
My father and I had traveled south with another Northern Californian down Highway 395 to meet the group that makes the yearly migration north from Bakersfield to Crowley Lake for the opening weeks of trout season. The traditional campground is at McGee Creek R.V. Park located just off the highway. McGee Creek flows down from the craggy peaks of the John Muir Wilderness and into Crowley Lake, which pools primarily from the Owens River running north to south. Other nearby lakes include beautiful Rock Creek Lake and Convict Lake, and a little further north is the June Lake Loop near Mammoth, California. The entire region is a trout fishing Mecca that yearly draws anglers from as far away as Los Angeles.

Since then, my Dad and I have been trying to schedule the trip every year when possible. We look forward to it like little kids anticipating Christmas morning. Now that he’s retired, he has no problem, and I make it a point every year to save my vacation hours specifically for the first of May.
Dad’s youngest brother, my uncle Kevin, tries each year to rally his Bakersfield coaching buddies to join the group of old-timers that have traditionally made the trip to Crowley. The normal weekend choice is the first in May, which is a week after Opening Day. The end of April is pretty busy and too crowded with competitive fishermen.
This year, however, we delayed the trip until the middle of May. The R.V. hookups were mostly booked for the normal weekend, and some of the old-timers were scattered elsewhere in the west. What a difference two weeks make! The weather was in the 80’s instead of the 50’s, and the sun was beating down as we set up our campsite. Usually it is cold, and blustery with wind the first weekend in May. This time we were in shorts and sandals by the middle of the first day.

Some of the finest memories I have of our trip to McGee is the food. When the larger group convenes, there is a coin toss to decide which night to have the barbeque spare ribs, and which night for the Tri-Tip! A large BBQ grill is hauled up, and others pitch in with potato salad, French bread, and 24-hour beans that once ended up as 48-hour beans due to the elevation and improper plans for soaking…
One year, we even had the fixings for fajitas as it was a Saturday Cinqo de Mayo. Perfect fare for lunchtime in the high Sierra. So on this year’s outing my uncle pulled out all the stops to meet expectations despite our dwindled numbers. He hauled up enough food to feed a small battalion. True to form, we ate like kings.

Uncle Kevin’s son, Austin, and our other cousin Jason were a welcome addition to the fishcamp this year. Austin had rarely been able to join us, and Jason had been absent for several years. So it would just be the five of us this year, all family. Until, that is, when sitting down to BBQ ribs that rivaled my grandpa’s, our campsite neighbor ambled over and sat down at our table. It was Rick, one of the old-timers who my uncle knew from many past outings. My uncle paused to reflect on how Rick’s son was here with sons of his own, and how they were the same size as Rick’s son was when Kevin first came to McGee! This was truly a multi-generational gathering place steeped in tradition. I then remembered how the previous year I had been sitting by the fire with another old-timer, Mike, who said that the first time he had camped up here was in 1966. Forty-two years of Crowley fishing trips!

After supper on both nights, we all stood around the fire and recalled various books and authors we enjoyed, and the philosophies embraced. We talked about faith, and the debate over Man’s place in the world. My uncle was especially pleased with the conversations; taking notice of how we discussed topics of higher worth rather than the typical mangathering’s frivolous jabbering about women and sin. This was something I hoped to look back upon with fondness years from now.

As the obsidian sky unfolded above us, my cousins Jason and Austin marveled at the stars, and the clarity of the nighttime heavens. The city lights and smog of Bakersfield hampers stargazing, and the contrast is awe-inspiring. We all agreed to make every effort to meet here again each year, and we look forward to one day bringing our own children with us to keep the tradition going.


For travel info and reservations contact:
http://mcgeecreekrv-campground.com/