Exploring the endless off-season opportunities
afforded by this well-known winter resort



By Chase Reynolds Ewald

The glittering waters of North America's third deepest lake are a beauty to behold and call your own in the off-season.

Back when I was a grad-school student at Berkeley, I leapt at any opportunity to get out into the country. The idea of Tahoe (the common name for the greater Lake Tahoe region on the California/Nevada border), had always appealed to me.

I wasted no time in foisting myself on a friend who lived there. Thus, I learned firsthand about the region's great skiing and rugged alpine scenery. But that was the winter Tahoe. I had yet to discover the other side of Tahoe. Then Labor Day rolled around and a friend called to invite me to a house party at his aunt's lakefront home. I accepted immediately.

The Bay Area and California's Central Valley change little from season to season. But once into the foothills, California's gold country, even the air was different. Instead of the sharp smell of pine needles in snow, there was the warm, pungent odor of a sun-baked pine forest. Over Donner Pass and into the high country, the Truckee River showed significantly less volume than its snowmelt-laden self in the spring. But there was plenty of water for the trout, though, judging by the fisherfolk who appeared there to cast their flies.

Some of Lake Tahoe's best vistas aren't found on a boat or a launch.

Along highway 89, the much-touted 50-mile-long bike path along side it was alive with joggers, dog-walkers, and mountain bikers. We slowed, then turned off highway 89 between two pillars and onto a gravel drive. Through the artfully placed shrubbery and towering native conifers I could just make out a large, handsome house and beyond it, the glittering waters of the third deepest lake in North America.

The house was tastefully decorated and a convivial, casual atmosphere prevailed. Beyond the sprawling lawn, there was a narrow beach; beyond that a wooden dock stretched into the lake itself. A couple of small sailboats tugged gently at their moorings. The lake gleamed during the evening, changing color from deep blue in the daylight to lapis at sunset to black under the stars.

The next day guests start to arrive for the annual mini-triathlon. It also explained why the house had two front doors. Although the guests' arrival was heralded by the sound of car tires on gravel on one side of the house, there were an inordinate number of people pouring in through the door facing the lake. Guests arrived by water in antique boats. It was a modern-day vision of Lake Tahoe as the playground of Old San Francisco. This certainly was the other side of Tahoe.

I was reminded of that day recently while driving along the west side of the lake. I wasn't a member of a house party this time, but it gave me an opportunity to check out the other "other side of Tahoe."

My destination was Sugar Pine Point State Park and the grand 1901 Ehrman Mansion. Beyond that lay Emerald Bay. The three-mile-long inlet is not only a great picnic spot, but a wonderful place to hike, birdwatch, and explore Vikingsholm, a replica of a 1200-year-old Viking castle built in 1929. Considered one of the finest examples of Scandinavian architecture on the continent, the 38-room mansion is open for summer tours. Unless you arrive by boat, access is via a steep one-mile hike. But even if you can't negotiate the trail, the views from the road are breathtaking.

You'll know you've crossed the state line when you see neon. Like Las Vegas rising out of the desert, it seems incongruous to be driving for miles and suddenly stumble onto Harrah's, but in Tahoe, there's something for everyone.

Lake Tahoe defines 'purple mountain majesty.'

The east side of the lake remains fairly densely populated until the junction with highway 50, where one can enjoy the fabulous lake-and-mountain views to the west. Crystal Bay is home to Incline Village and Ben Cartwright's Ponderosa Ranch, a movie set and a decided tourist attraction but worth a look if you're a Western buff. The Hyatt, with its casino, marks the state line at the northern tip of the lake.

The tram ride to the top of Squaw Valley, site of the 1960 Winter Olympics, is worth the steep fee. There's a restaurant with a wonderful deck looking out over a big portion of the lake and across to the tops of distant mountains. Properly fortified, one might venture onto the 2600-mile Pacific Rim Trail or the more moderate 150-mile Tahoe Rim Trail. On the other end of the spectrum, one can hike a scenic trail that follows the creek to the mountain's base.

I head down the Truckee River at the end of the day to catch the last of the rafting action. Strategically situated at the turnoff for the popular Alpine Meadows Ski Area, the River Ranch overlooks a large natural pool with quiet water, which two rafting companies use as a take-out spot. Its deck is an ever-popular hangout year-round.

Afterwards I retire to my cozily appointed room, with its small porch overlooking the river. As I drift off to sleep, the roaring river drowning out the noise of nearby Highway 89, I find I'm not missing the house party at all.

Copyright ©1999 Cowboys & Indians


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