sierratown

where desolate dry earth meets the snow capped giants

no trespassing

Highway 395 hugs the eastern foot of the Sierras. Along the entire stretch of the Southern Sierras for hundreds of miles, it's just you and those giant mountains. Here and there a tiny one market town, here and there an abandoned trailer park. You never stop because the dust is flying and the semis flank your car. But maybe these ghosts deserve some attention. What life used to exist here?

in the dust

Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)

It was after 7pm; the sun was low behind the mountains. Wind was fiercely rolling through the barren valley; we got tired of the swerving18 wheelers and pulled off into Manzanar. Loud whooshes of sand and dust pummeled our car as we inched along the cracked roads, branches and dead weeds flying. We made our way back to the monument.