Dead Reckoning

by Yonder Journal (Manual For Speed)

By Soigneur

September 28^th, 2016

Piute Pass — High Sierras, California

The Sierra Nevada mountain range stretches 400 miles north to south along the eastern side of California. They’re tall, jagged, formidable and incredibly picturesque. Nearly all the roads that lead into these mountains are dead ends. During the winter people aiming to go east of the Sierra must drive around them: south to Mojave or north up and over Lake Tahoe. But once upon a time there was a dream of another route, a path across the mountains that would link Fresno and the coast, to Bishop, Nevada, the Midwest, and beyond.

That dream was called the 168.

Much of the original 168 plan was completed. An eastern section stretches from questionably named Oasis on the border of California and Nevada, over the White Mountains via Westgard Pass, through Bishop and up to North Lake, and a western segment runs between Florence Lake and Fresno. There is, however, a noticeable and formidable gap in 168’s continuity. Never finished, the lost section of Highway 168 was a bridge too far, the terrain and climate too rugged for the original builders who were forced to abandon their project. Since that time much of the High Sierra has been designated as wilderness, forestalling any further development on the road.

What’s left is 27 miles of high mountain terrain separating the east and west sections of road.

This unfinished section through the Sierra is not completely inaccessible, but being designated as a wilderness means mechanized travel is not allowed. There remain a few scratched out trails tramped down by hiking boots and pack animals that wind up and over hard and craggy granite passes. Lightly used, these trails are primitive and functional, and with mechanized travel ruled out, we knew that completing the 168 would require a healthy dose of hiking. If there is one thing we have learned from our Yonder Journal experiences it is that hiking is an essential part of bikepacking. In fact, on an average trip it would be fair to say that our time spent riding versus hiking is probably split 50/50.

In the end though only one of us would succeed, walking off alone, away from the rest of us, into a flurry of snow over an 11,000-foot pass. Our expedition to complete the 168 is a tale of failure and of triumph, and an experiment into what’s possible. We each limped away beaten and bruised, with a new understanding of ourselves and of possibility. A wise man waxing philosophically at the telling of this tale might say something to the effect, “That a better understanding of self is the only success you will ever need,” but sitting here writing this I’m struggling to convince myself of truth in his wisdom.