Sierra snow on short notice

Before the snow

For the last 10-15 years, California had notoriously suffered through drought. Up until about 3 years ago, when winter storms dropped so much snow that it caused flooding. Later, as a result, everything started blooming, and it caused overgrown bushes, which dried, and fueled wildfires.

Winter season of 2025-2026 was preparing us for another dry season. We already abandoned hope of getting any snow action this year. Imagine our surprise when in one week storms dumped a lot of water on mountains, causing nice and deep snow coverage.

Our friends from Mariposa, CA called us and on a few days notice invited us to go snow wheeling around Oakhurst, CA. Oakhurst is a small town at the southern gateway to Yosemite, nestled in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Without further ado, we made the decision to show up and have some fun with an amazing group of people at a gorgeous location.

The timing and location were perfect. We hosted my mother-in-law, so together with Aga, we decided to go on a week-long roadtrip, starting at Oakhurst. We packed up luggage, booked a hotel room, and left to catch a long-overdue break.

Saturday — up the mountain

On Saturday morning, around 9 AM, we met at Raley’s parking lot with the group from Santa Cruz 4 Wheel Drive Club. On such a short notice, it was amazing to see so many people. Mark and Natalya, Lonnie and his grandson invited us all; they coordinated routes with Wayne and Amy. Rounding out the group: Nicki and Peter, Mick and Lori, Bobby and Marla. My mother-in-law decided to stay at the hotel, so we traveled by ourselves: Aga, our dog Nina, and I. A total of seven rigs. Most of people decided to drive up early Saturday morning — a three-hour haul from Santa Cruz was well worth it.

A week-long snowstorm had buried the area in fresh powder, turning ordinary dirt roads into a legitimate off-road challenge. Snow driving is a different discipline from rock crawling or desert trails: traction disappears, ruts hide under white, and momentum becomes the only currency that matters.

By 9:30 we were rolling. About four miles north we took a turn onto Sky Ranch Road, and we kept going until the pavement gave up. First snow appeared around mile six. There was so much white powder, it looked amazing. Fresh, cold breeze from the mountains reminded me of when I was a kid. I played in snow for hours. It’s been a while since I experienced something similar. The temperature was perfect, comfortable 50 degrees.

The run — FS 6S010

We stopped at an intersection and aired down; we were heading toward FS 6S010, where the real fun started. At the same intersection we passed bystanders. They took the same road, but decided to turn around, because they were by themselves. This time, because we were heading that way, they decided to continue with us.

My own lack of experience with snow driving became obvious fast. Five miles of fresh powder that looked beautiful and drove like a nightmare. The snow was so fresh that traction was a suggestion, not a guarantee. I got stuck. A lot. Bobby and Wayne took turns coaching me through it: keep momentum, and the moment the tires lose traction — stop, back up a bit, and slowly press forward. Simple advice that’s hard to follow when every instinct says to floor it. Keeping up with Bobby was a challenge; he knew what he was doing.

I felt really bad for these people who followed us; my inexperience slowed them down. Whenever either Peter or myself got stuck, I had a few moments to talk to them. They live close to the mountains, so this was a natural environment. The week before there was barely any snow. This week, it was so deep that we were sinking in snow.

The last time I got stuck took me almost an hour to get out. I was slowly going forward, when I got into deep ruts. Due to the advice given me before, I stopped, and tried to back up a bit to regain traction. At this moment, my rear wheels slid deeper into the snow. I ended up about 3 feet deep. No engine could get me out. People behind us tried to yank me out with a kinetic rope. Instead of getting back on tracks, I got buried deeper into the snowbank. The only way to recover myself was to use a winch line. The closest appropriate tree, at the right angle, was about 80 feet away from me. That was when I reminded myself: I didn’t respool the winch line after my last trip. It was jammed, pulling it out was a hassle. Finally, I was able to hook it up, and move forward by a few feet. The angle was still not right, so we had to move the winch point to another tree and try again. Eventually, I got out, but going through all the snow wore me out.

The Lunch Stop — FS 6S047Y

About two and a half hours in, we reached the intersection at FS 6S047Y and called it. Lunch turned into a three-hour affair — nobody was in a hurry. The spot was quiet except for a few hikers who passed by on foot, wading through snow up to their waists. Seeing them slog through what we’d just driven made the rigs feel a little more justified.

The place was perfect to catch a bit of sunshine. After a week-long rain by the coast, it was amazing to sit and enjoy perfect weather. By this time my feet were wet and cold. Even though I wore trekking shoes, they were not weatherproof. Constant process of recovering the rig, wading through the knee-deep snow, jumping in and out of the warm cab, melted all the snow. I was feeling uncomfortable.

That didn’t stop me from playing with Nina in the snow! She loved it! Every time when she jumped into a fresh pile of snow, she almost completely disappeared under it! I wanted to match her energy, so we played for a bit. After half an hour I could see she was done.

Downhill and home

Around 3:30 PM we turned around. The return trip took about twenty minutes — funny how that works when the tracks are already broken in.

Most of people headed straight home with a dinner stop at Los Banos. We went back to a hotel room to dry out shoes and clothes. Aga and I were so exhausted that we didn’t have energy to go out and grab dinner, so we ordered to-go food and ate in the room.

Short notice, short run, but a genuine success. Snow driving is its own discipline, and I’ve got a lot to learn. Looking forward to the next one.

Aftermath

By lunch we had already burned through winch line, kinetic rope, and straps all morning. Recovery gear earned its keep.

In the Club we have a separate “Recovery Fund”. Everyone pays $5 every time they get stuck. I knew that my bank account would show a huge loss. It’s good we kept maximum at $20 to keep the tab from bleeding all the funds!

To summarize: