People always ask me if I’m afraid of trekking through the forest by myself. The forest is my safe place. It’s where I find my zen away from the craziness of this world. The zen of the forest is where I go to find my center, especially after an evening of indulging in extra spicy Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying. Because every foodie hiker and camper brings fancy Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying in the camping ice chest, right?
I was afraid driving through San Bernardino during a terrorist attack. The serenity of our forests has nothing on that terrorizing event in my life, that one day back in the Christmas season of 2015, when I just wanted to go to Costco and buy organic beets in bulk. (And maybe cheap Costco wine) Or possibly finish my Christmas shopping. You truly don’t know the wild west until you’ve driven through the craziness that is already San Bernardino. Throw in a terrorist attack and it’s insanity to watch people driving berserk like there are no traffic laws whatsoever. This was back when we barely had smartphones; we didn’t have local news at our fingertips. A global pandemic was a Stephen King novel, not something that was actually bound to happen! I was driving a shit storm of a lemon of a Subaru half a mile away from where crazy people were shooting our friends and neighbors execution style! And I had no idea what was going on until I turned KFRG, the local country radio station on my FM dial.
Now do you see why I have to shove Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying at my face? That right there was some sheer craziness happening right before my eyes in the Inland Empire. I don’t know anyone personally who was killed in the hostage standoff off but I know local people in our community who did not make it out alive.
So, yes, I feel safe in the forest. 
I feel safe and secure in the wilderness of the mountains of southern California, away from the craziness you find in the cities. And that is why when I plan a vacation, I try to plan it in the wilderness away from the crowds the ATH (All Trails Hikers) and the Bro’s in Cybertrucks in brand new Patagonia hiking pants. And yes, I do pack all these ingredients for a scrumptious Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying dinner after a ten-mile hike. I know, I know, the authentic Cantonese version of this dish says, yes, by all means, deep fry. But I’m nothing if not a rebel in hiking shorts. Who wants to pack canola oil or beef tallow to deep fry while camping?
Girl time. Hiker Girl Time
Are you going to escape to the wilderness for a few days of girl time? Yes, by girl time, I mean creating Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying for fancy foodie super, then sleeping in a tent with my smelly camper dog. Followed by hiking so many miles each and every daylight hour as possible. If this is your kind of vaca, then a girl time outdoor getaway just west of Lone Pine, California, is the place for you and me.
And then it rained for four days straight
I love the rain. Like with a weird passion. Like I could live in northern Washington, that’s how much I love the clouds, the thunder and the wet weather. But when you are tent camping with your furry adventure dog and you are both the same kind of dirty
camper, stinky, sometimes you just have to wonder, just how long is it going to rain for?
Pouring rain for over three hours at Whitney Portal Campground just north of Lone Pine is not common for June. I knew thunderstorms were in the forecast each and every day of our trip. But this is California. It never rains! If it does rain in the mountains of the Eastern Sierra, it tends to sprinkle a bit. Then those summertime thunderstorms move on out just like the cattle roundups in the cowboy town of Lone Pine below this mountain hamlet at over 8,000 feet. I might seriously be the only camper left here in a tent. It’s not the first time that has happened to this dirty camper and adventure pup! Luckily for Adventure Pup and I, the tent has been rain-proofed by my loving boyfriend, who knows just how I like to adventure. All those glampers in their Mercedes Sprinter vans may be feeling sorry for us as we curl up in the tent together with a hot cup of tea and a good book but the pup and I know how to camp and do it in style. And dry.
Cottonwood Pa
ss adventures
We had all the plans to do a big hike this morning to the Cottonwood Lakes. But here is the thing with early-season hikes. There could be a lot of snow. The trail could be easy to follow. Or the trail might not be maintained yet from last season. We had a few technical problems with this hike. Number 1, the map I downloaded did not work. I had hiked here maybe five times in the past but not in four years. I completely forgot that a key part of the hike is that you have to cross one of the creeks and a meadow. And unfortunately for me, the trail just happened to be under the creek at that point. Oppsy wopsy.
So I thought I knew the way. I also thought that All Trails mapping was taking us the right way. Ugh, see why I think ATH (All Trails Hikers) are dumb-dumbs? Because instead of using your brain to migrate your hiking journey, you rely on AI and that Chat GPT hiker guide will fuck you up every time. That is how we ended up basically hiking straight uphill at Cottonwood’s Pass. Yes, it was a great early morning workout. I was so sweaty at eight a.m. I felt like I could wring out my t-shirt. Even though it couldn’t have been 60 degrees o
ut, that humidity gets me every time. And those mountain thunderstorms were building fast. I could practically smell the petrichor.
As I watched the sky darken behind Cirque Peak. I kept hiking higher and higher. I felt like I must be getting up there in elevation. Mt Langley is the high-altitude trek hardcore hikers do in this area. It tops out at nearly 14,000 feet and I felt like I had to be nearing 12,000 feet in altitude. At least that is what my heart and my lungs were telling me.
And my adventure pup? She was just off chasing chipmunks, living it up. Where we live in Big Bear Lake, California, the rattlesnakes are already out in full summertime force. This is Luna the Catahoula’s last hurrah to be an off-leash dog for the summertime. She enjoyed each and every moment of it.
The pup and I just
kept trekking up and up and I felt like, from the shit map, that did not work, the first few Cottonwood’s Lakes just had to be down below us to the west. This was supposed to be the easy hike! Why were we still trekking uphill and yet not getting anywhere or passing any trails?
Literally, we were so in the middle of nowhere (But I had a general idea where we were, as I could see snowy New Army Pass across the way). I knew we had to not be too far off the beaten path. I was quite literally thrilled when I finally, I swear, after an hour and a half of bushwhacking, saw a tiny trail section down below. Well, it was the top section of Cottonwood Pass. We had just meandered so far to the east that we had turned it into a far longer hike.
I did, however, in our wanderings, come across this amazing lake with no trails going to it, no other signs of human life around. I have no idea what this hidden gem of a lake may be called. It was a hidden secret, that is for sure!
Luckily, when I saw that little trail and made the realization we were near the to
p of the pass, we were practically at Cottonwood’s number 1, Huzzah! Especially because the storm clouds were building fast over New Army Pass. I snapped a few photos, made the dog do some cute things, and shoved a Banana Ginger Muffin at my face. As the thunder began to rumble near Mt Whitney in the far distance, I made the great decision that we should get the hell out of there!
That was about twenty minutes before it began snowing, which was actually quite pretty. I could hear the thunder gurgling, like my belly after a night of camp chili, in the background. But overall, it did seem like the weather might hold off for the two hours it would take us to trek out. As we skipped back, oh so happy to be on t
he actual trail now, underneath those 3,000-year-old Foxtail Pines, I was not very concerned, as I knew I had a whole warmer change of clothes tucked away inside my pack and two rain jackets. (But obviously, I hadn’t packed the cute rain jacket I purchased in Canada!)
Jeep life
The hike out was gorgeous. It only rained on us for the last hour. And we made it down to Lone Pine just after noon to watch the thunder and lightning putting on a show above the purple and blue Owens Valley wildflowers. The Owens Valley is just stunning in the late springtime. This is the place to have a Jeep! When I drive my Jeep on the dirt roads here, I think, Now this is why I bought a Jeep!
There are so many trails zig-zagging amongst the boulders and the fields of yellow Rabbit’s Brush and purple Grape Soda Lupine all along the Alabama Hills. Even if you don’t travel here for hiking if 
you just road trip along the backroads of the Owens Valley, the views are just stunning. When you drive up the precarious Horseshoe Meadows Road at over 10,000 feet, you get views looking down at Owen’s Lake. In the springtime, the tributaries can actually look red from all the algae growing along the riverbed. A red river? It is a stunning sight to behold.
My plan was not exactly to come back to camp early. I could see the storm clouds socked in around Mt Whitney from down in the gorgeous green Alabama Hills as we Jeeped around in the foothills, searching for the best internet spot to hotspot and possibly place a bet through FanDuel. But I started to get worried as I watched lightning bolts dance across the jagged horizon of the Owens River Valley. Just how waterproof was our tent?
Was it worth it just so I could bet on a 20-1 at Saratoga if the tent was going to be a swamp when we returned? And the wind was really starting to pick up in the valley below. Mt Whitney Portal is not known to be a very windy campground but how well had I attached those tent stakes? I gave up on my dreams of winning big at Saratoga, The Spa, and we booked it back to camp in the pouring rain. L
uckily, the tent was fine, aside from a few malfunctions. The dog was hungry and quite upset that we were hiding in the tent instead of relaxing outside, where she could stare at chipmunks all evening.
For us, our little party of three, Smelly Hiker Girl, even smellier adventure dog and a ghost (Wait, I’ll get to that) camping out of Whitney Portal was a fine basecamp for all the adventuring we wanted to do. Did I count on it being this wet? Well, no, but I am a fan of a thunderstorm, so you won’t hear many complaints out of me (Until the tent starts leaking)
Google Pixel drama
Sure, you can drive to Mammoth Lakes, one hundred miles north and the views and the pines are ever so stunning, but for a quick road trip, the Lone Pine area was enough to immerse us in everything Eastern Sierra. When I planned this trip, yes, I knew my screen was just a little cracked on my phone. The first evening of the trip, after I set up camp, I realized somehow my lens was broken on my Google Pixel Fancy Ass Camera Phone. Or maybe there was a vacation ghost alive in my phone. I didn’t plan on a ghost. Or a broken tent. I did, however, plan on Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying.
We simply did not plan on a tent with a broken zipper. I hadn’t been that dirty camper girl in three years. I truly don’t remember the zipper on the tent breaking. I feel like that is something I would remember! Damn you, ghost! Was this your fault? (Quickly, everything to go wrong would be blamed on the ghost.) Panting like you’re going to die while trekking up a 12,000-foot mountain? That is definitely the ghost’s fault! Did a dog knock your beer over? It can’t be the hyper pup’s fault, definitely the ghost! Forgot the sesame oil for the Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying? Absolutely, the ghost’s fault!
I didn’t realize I packed a ghost to go on vacation with us. Yes, there is a ghost living inside my Google Pixel Pro phone. She comes out to yell at me anytime I want to take a photo she doesn’t like. In reality, my lens is somehow broken on my phone. How did my lens get broken when I did nothing rude to my phone in the last few days? I have no idea.
I have been talking about trading up to the new Pixel for weeks now and was waiting until I broke my phone just one more time. Well, it happened. Why it had to happen mid-way through my girls’ trip camping vacation with the dog, well, we may never know.
So now it’s me, the dog and a ghost on this camping/ hiking trip vacation. And possibly Lou Dobbs. Or that could just be because we made a stop at the Lou Dobbs Wilderness Ranger Cabin. I got some more fantastic photos. This was where the ghost really started helping me out. This is where the ghost started blocking out my fat ass in a bunch of the photos! Thanks, Lou Dobbs, the money manager-friendly ghost! Now, like a true money-managing friendly ghost, I pondered as we trekked out of this gorgeous forest, do I really need to spend eight hundred dollars on a new Pixel phone the moment I get home from my vacation? Or can I wait another month, with a broken camera on my phone and a ghost?
A ghostly great Sweet and Sour Pork
So why don’t I have the most fantastic photos of this easy Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying dish? Because my camera lens on my phone is becoming more broken by the day. I basically have a 2005-style flip phone at this point.
We have an ongoing debate in our family about using red or black currant jelly in this recipe. I honestly think it tastes great with either. My mom is ready to write me out of the will for having this opinion.
Doesn’t every fancy foodie Hiker Babe pack ingredients for Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying for a three-night camping trip? When creating this dish, yes, currant jelly is one of the key ingredient
s but also good quality hot Italian sausage is a must-have ingredient. I prefer the hot Italian sausage from Trader Joe’s. Yes, there is a difference.
What is the story of “Gu Lao Rou”, Sweet and sour pork? Have you ever had Sweet and sour pork in an asian restaurant? It’s all sweet and no sour. I could happily shove one teaspoon of this Cantonese delight at my face before sliding into a diabetic coma, followed by a night on the toilet after all that MSG. This Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying delight, was brought to the U.S. by Chinese immigrants in the early 19th century but here in 2025, there is a better way to create this Cantonese creation.
Some believe this dish may have evolved from a Shanghainese dish of braised pork ribs with sugar and vinegar, which was later adapted by Cantonese chefs. But where I come from, the mountain village of Running Springs, California, we create this with super hard-to-find currant jelly. It’s not an easy-to-locate ingredient, but it makes this dish. Find it on Amazon. You won’t miss the deep-frying!i
Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying.
1 large onion, sliced thin
2 red dried Chinese chilis, crumbled
2 teaspoons sesame oil
P1/2 cup fresh pineapple, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger
1/4 cup currant jelly, whatever fucking color you want. Don’t let your mom judge you
1/4 cup vinegar
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
1 package Konjac noodles (For a keto version, you can also do this over rice)
To create this Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying, start with frying up your onion slices and crumbled red chiles in the sesame oil in a wok. Mix in the garlic and ginger at the same time as the bell pepper pieces. While this is happening, broil your Italian sausages for just ten minutes on a high broil. Set them aside to cool. Then dice them into bite-sized slices.
If you are camping like we were, you can grill the sausages over the campfire before adding them to your dish.
Mix your pineapple pieces in with the onions, as well as the sausage slices. Add in the currant jelly, soy, pepper and the vinegar. Let this simmer for a good ten minutes while you create your konjac noodles anyway that you like. I like to just fry them in a bit of sesame oil with some pepper. Serve your Sweet and Sour Pork without deep frying on top of those cooked Konjac noodles and tasty Hiker Girl dinner is served!
