Take A Rest, Eat With The Best

Rest Area supervision for CHP, and Lunch

Take A Rest, Eat With The Best

Rest area supervision for the CHP, and lunch.

by Andrew Meblin, copyright April 14, 2023

Note:

This article was delayed while I waited to receive approval to publish. The date of writing was early March, 2023

Unless you’ve been in a cave without Wi-Fi the last six months, you probably are aware that the Sierra Nevada range received record snowfall this 2022-2023 season. Note that I don’t write “winter” because the snow began in earnest when it was still autumn, and continued, sometimes furiously, through winter and into spring.

The resulting precipitation produced record-tying amounts of snow, and the benefits and bummers that go with that. Naturally, skiers, snowboarders, snowmobilers, snowshoe hikers, saucer and toboggan riders, and dog sled mushers were all thrilled. Traffic to Truckee was substantially impacted by the influx of visitors, combined with bad weather. Since tourists tend to do what comes easily, many of them stop to look at the snow at the Donner Summit rest area operated by the good folks of Cal Trans.

The Summit sits at an elevation of a bit more than 7200 feet above sea level, or so the Google Earth tells me. Naturally, as the winds from the west push moisture-laden air towards the mountains, the clouds get bumped up, and compressed. This causes a squeezing effect, and as the air is pushed up, the moisture is wrung out of the clouds in the form of rain, or more likely – since it is cold – snow.

The bump of the Sierra Nevada looking east. Folsom Lake in center foreground, Lake Tahoe, center, and Pyramid Lake, upper left.

For people who do not live in snow-prone regions, the mere thought of water that does not flow down gutters has a distinct panache. It excites some people, being able to hold “rain” in one’s hand, ball it up, and throw it, at someone else, usually. Bigger balls, piled on each other, in groups of three, with the biggest one on the bottom, can thrill the heck out of some people.

Not everyone shares this fascination with snow. My good friend, John O., tells me he has spent most of his life avoiding it. He recalls epic journeys across the Sierra Nevada with his family going to visit a relative who lived near Reno. The drone of the tire chains was one sound that stood out for him. Of course, while driving a car with tires equipped with chains, the maximum speed is 25 miles per hour. Any desire to drive in excess of that often results in the chains loosening (as they heat up) and if you’re unlucky, the links give way and the chain from (hopefully only) one tire comes off. Worse, a portion of the chain beats the crap out of your fender.

Happily, many vehicles sold in California come equipped with all-wheel drive. And it is mostly people driving those cars who go the distance from the valley to the ski resorts. For those who are not regular visitors to the snowy lands of the Sierra Nevada, the Donner Pass Rest Area is a destination of its own.

And thus it was, on a sunny Saturday in February, that the lead volunteer of the Truckee CHP office introduced me to rest-stop duty. Suzanne and I departed from the Truckee office at about 9:30am, driving a black and white Chevy Tahoe. We crested the summit, exited Interstate 80 at Boreal/Castle Peak interchange, intending to backtrack to the eastbound-side rest area. Beneath the freeway we encountered a bit of a logjam as cars were being blocked from continuing onto the road leading to the designated snow-play area operated by the State Parks. Parking there was maxed out, and would-be saucer riders were being turned away, directed to drive back onto the freeway. 

The Donner Summit Snopark lies just a mile west of the Rest Area.

When one is determined to play in such epic snow as we were “enjoying”, logic suggests that the CalTrans rest area is a good second choice for snow play; plenty of parking, an abundance of snow, vending machines, and bathrooms. Furthermore, the rest stop features huge parking spaces in the center of the lot - what could be better?

And so it was that Suzanne and I rolled into the rest area with a handful of politely delivered messages, to wit:

• “Please do not park in the center parking area. Those are reserved for big rigs and other large trucks. Thank you.”

• “I know this looks like a great place to sled, but it is not permitted, for many reasons. Thank you.”

• “Please display your disabled person parking placard to park in the disable parking spot. Thank you”

• “Those are some really beautiful back-country skis, but please do not attempt to enter the back-country from this location. Thank you.”

• Please do not climb up onto the snow bank, thank you.”

And so on…

Though a few drivers who had parked in the big rig spaces were a bit testy when informed of their transgression, not one driver or passenger exhibited hostility toward the two elderly volunteers. Instead the general attitude was wonder and amazement at the amount of snow, and this was in February, before the March Monster storms. Additionally, some visitors expressed an appreciation towards our volunteer service.

People posed for photographs with the giant snow bank as a backdrop, or cheated a few feet up the more gentle slop of snow by the restroom facility. Dogs were walked and allowed to relieve themselves, and most of the dog owners collected the solid product deposited. Children and adults made snowballs, but in our presence, did not engage in any aggressive snowball fighting, more like gentle, teasing tosses of snow at each other. The mood was very pleasant.

And it was cold – not cold enough to deter these young people from venturing out dressed in a minimalist fashion - but still cold.

After about four hours spent walking the length of the sidewalk, and stepping gingerly on the icy portions, Suzanne came up to me and said, “Let’s go get warm.”

We hopped in the CHP Tahoe and drove onto the freeway heading eastbound. Suzanne explained that the little shortcuts made for “official vehicles only” should be considered a last resort for reversing direction on the interstate, and that turning around should be done at actual freeway exits and entrances.

We utilized the Donner Lake exit, and re-entered the freeway heading west. Suzanne said, “I’ll take you to lunch.”

“Where,” I asked.

“Kingvale,” came the reply.

“There is a restaurant in Kingvale?”

Suzanne only smiled.

Exiting the freeway at the Kingvale turnoff, we doubled back on old US 40, passing the  lodging facility in which I had stayed during the 1960 Winter Olympic Games at what was called Squaw Valley. I searched for a heretofore unknown restaurant, but we passed through the commercial zone, and arrived at the CalTrans Kingvale Maintenance Station. We parked outside a building with signage declaring it to be Kingvale U.

Through the windows I saw a tabletop shuffleboard game. We had arrived at what I now consider to be the best-kept secret restaurant in Northern California. Inside was a spacious and well-lit dining hall, with an impressive commercial-grade kitchen. The facility was devoid of people, and there was no sign of any restaurant staff. I gazed at the sandwich selection, and offerings of pasta salads, checked out the salad bar, which featured some very fresh vegetables, and a good variety of salad dressings.

As I was about to select a sandwich, the chef appeared from the back reaches of the kitchen, and asked what we would like to eat. Suzanne said that it seemed like we were too late for a hot meal, but he pushed that aside.

“Do you want a hamburger,” he asked me.

“I would LOVE a hamburger, no cheese, please.”

Within seven minutes I was served up what had to be the biggest burger this side of the Rockies. A generous patty lay cradled in the arms of a brioche bun, with freshly sliced onion, lettuce, and tomato, pickles, and mustard to boot! And it was spectacularly cooked. It was juicy inside, with a perfect crisp char on the outside.

Though the burger was massive, I managed to eat it all. Suzanne took care of the bill, and then it was back in the car, and off to a few more hours of rest stop supervision. Chatting with visitors and truckers made the day fly by.

As the weather turned from mostly sunny to partly sunny and then to mostly cloudy, and the breeze turned into a wind, Suzanne and I headed back to the Truckee CHP office. We had done our duty and I had discovered a fantastic restaurant.

Now, not just everyone can eat there. The Kingvale U is housing for CalTrans workers during severe snow storms, when the snowplows operate three abreast, with miles of passenger cars and trucks relying on the work of these dedicated highway maintenance workers to keep the roads clear, or at least passable. Instead of going home after their shift, which would be silly during really bad storms, the men and women of the teams are housed in a dormitory, and socialize in a lounge across the hall from the restaurant and dining hall. How else would the highway department workers perform their stellar job keeping the roads open? For them, it is “work, eat, sleep, repeat.” While the average driver is griping about road closures, or traffic slowed to a crawl, the CalTrans workers are doing something about it!

Suzanne explained that as volunteers, while performing duties for the CHP, when driving a black and white, AND wearing our uniforms, we could be allowed to patronize Kingvale U, and order up the same life-sustaining food as the CalTrans heroes of the highway. Volunteering for the Truckee CHP office is always rewarding, but this burger… The support proffered to these CalTrans workers is stellar. Despite the image some have of the State not caring for its workers, Kingvale U contradicts that notion.

In my 70 plus years alive, there are several dozen meals that stand out in my memory, and this hamburger and salad from Kingvale U. will be one of them. Who knew such a fantastic facility existed between Interstate 80 and old US 40?

Yum.