The key, I’ve learned, is not to push your way up to Big Bear but rather to let the mountain pull you forth.
From Palm Springs, I prefer Highway 38, which offers turns and switchbacks more gentle and robust than the more direct Highway 330 route.
I don’t look at e-mails. I want neither calls nor texts. I turn off the phone. I turn on satellite radio and tune to the classical station and listen to Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, commonly known as “From the New World.” The music, haunting and beautiful, is filled with momentum and reflection and almost narrates each turn ensuing.
Of course, Big Bear isn’t a New World. It’s old and provincial and things don’t seem to change, which is why our crew of knuckleheads enjoys the getaway annually. The destination – whether you’re coming from the coast, desert or Inland Empire – proves an easy, affordable and ideal summer escape for folks who live “off the hill,” as locals will tell you.
Toss the phone in the glove box, open the window and breathe the pine-scented air as you reach Onyx Summit at nearly 8,500 feet. The drive is a mere two hours. Big Bear is near.
GOLF
For many, Big Bear is more a ski destination than golf getaway, and those who come in the summer often do so for mountain biking and hiking. But let it be known that the nine-hole course at Bear Mountain has been swinging at 7,000 feet since 1948.
“I think many people don’t see what they’d expected up here,” said Bear Mountain director of golf Robert Hendricks. “When they think of Bear Mountain Golf Course –ifthey think about it, if they know about it – they think that the course is probably not that great, that the conditions are not that great because we’ve got a six-month season (through October) or that maybe the course is just all par-3s or something. But when they get here they see the course is longer than they thought and are generally surprised at how well the grass grows and the greens grow in such a short amount of time.”
Typically, we head up in late August or near Labor Day, but our mid-June trip is designed around a 40th birthday celebration for a pal. We’ve played the course on numerous occasions and continue to enjoy the nuance of the par-35 layout, along with the clubbing calculations that accompany the elevation.
“It’s a one- or two-club difference,” Hendricks said. “A lot of people come up here and want to play the same as they play off the hill without making the club change before realizing the ball is flying farther.”
Beginning with howls from the Big Bear Alpine Zoo by the first tee box, the course’s character continues with its surrounding pines and rustic routing. I’ve come to appreciate Nos. 3 and 4 that are, respectively, a short par-4 with an elevated approach over trouble and a 463-yard par-5 from an elevated box. Hit it square and your ball will soar like an eagle, and, with a good approach and single putt, you might card one on the hole as well.
GRUB
After the round we often head down Moonridge Way to Captain’s Anchorage, a popular “haunt” because of the restaurant’s reputation for housing a ghost named George.
When Captain’s opened as the Sportsman’s Tavern in the 1940s, George was the bookkeeper for the establishment’s popular (albeit illegal) gambling activities, and legend of his presence as a specter makes Captain’s popular for ghost hunters, steak hunters and actual hunters.
Ghosts aside, the dimly lit rooms are bright with good food, hospitality and rich history, seeing that not much has changed in the past 50-plus years. Which is intentional, of course.
“We’re a time warp, really,” Captain’s general manager Sue Battiste said about the establishment that has excellent prime rib, steaks and seasonal seafood. “You helped turn the lights on by buying something to eat here.”
And once under the lights, the experience is what you make it.
“We want people to say that they have the greatest time here,” Battiste said. “Not just that the food is great, but that they have a great time.”
GUIDES
A sporting mountain weekend is well served, we’ve learned, with time on Big Bear Lake. To charter a fishing day (namely for rainbow trout), check out Cantrell Guide Service. Owning a pair of pontoons, John Cantrell began his business in 1991 and operates the longest-running guide service in the region.
Mixing the science of the lake and fishing environment (along with a few bad jokes), Cantrell’s longevity is buoyed by his successful methods of inconsistency.
“After my first year, what I keyed in on was being erratic,” Cantrell said about his penchant for eschewing modern fishing technology. “The more erratic we are the more fish we get.”
A mixture of nightcrawlers, needlefish and spoons greet the waters as Cantrell’s assistant, Gleb, pulls the lines to activate the lures. Light whitecap movement narrates the late-afternoon expedition as we funnel through the pine-carved environs. A wheezing line breaks the rhythms of the water and we stand in unison and set down beers in concert.
“Rod tips up!” Cantrell barks with enthusiasm. “And don’t stop reeling!”
My friend, Stone, reels in a small – but sporting – birthday catch. Playful guff ensues, but the size of the bounty has little bearing because the day is young and beautiful and the noise of the city, heat of the desert and traffic on the I-10 is far, far away.
“On the water, you never know what you’re going to see,” Cantrell mused, almost to himself.
And we’re wont to believe him, even though we actually do know what we’re going to see. And that’s what keeps us coming back each summer.
