foot

When Shiloh Wickliffe was walking around the Cleveland High campus last fall, everyone knew he could be a football ringer if he ever went out for the sport. He was the starting second baseman for the baseball team, but football coach Mario Guzman and classmates were well aware he once played football as a freshman at Sierra Canyon.

Wickliffe had shoulder surgery last November, so he had pretty much closed the football chapter in his life — until he was rehabbing and started looking at his “old clips.”

“I kind of missed it,” he said. “And all my friends are telling me, ‘Come out and join the football team.’”

Cleveland’s football season had already started when Wickliffe, a junior, decided to ask Guzman if he could join the team. It’s rare when a varsity coach decides to add a player in the middle of a season. Guzman agreed to make an exception because he felt Wickliffe’s positive attitude and team-oriented philosophy would fit his team’s culture.

Wickliffe did his mandatory 10 days of practice and made his debut in the third game against Castaic. By the 10th game, he had become a key Cleveland player because of a season-ending injury to standout running back Moyo Odebunmi.

He’s had games of 121 yards rushing and four touchdowns against Taft; 80 yards rushing and one touchdown against Chatsworth; five receptions for 62 yards against Crenshaw. He also had a 94-yard touchdown nullified against the Cougars.

“It’s a blessing,” Guzman said. “We thought he’d just play baseball.”

Cleveland is 10-0 for the first time in school history going into its City Section Open Division playoff opener on Friday night at home in a rematch against Crenshaw.

At 5 feet 8 and 165 pounds, Wickliffe still considers himself a baseball player first but has gotten into football shape and looks ready to be an important contributor in the playoffs.

“I have not played for more than a year,” he said. “I was definitely nervous coming out because I thought I wouldn’t be the same, but I kind of always believed in what I had.”

The first practice back was an opportunity to regain his bearings.

“The coach had set up a specific hitting drill for me to like get my feet wet,” he said. “And once they hit me, it kind of woke me up what I’m coming back into.”

The muscle memory and instincts have returned. He started out as a receiver, but now the Cavaliers need him to use his speed at running back.

“Their scheme is pretty good,” he said. “We just have to have discipline and do what our coaches taught us and that’s what leads us to the promised land.”

He’s going back to baseball when football is completed. He batted .302 last season in 16 games while not at full strength after surgery, so beware come February.

Wickliffe has become Cleveland’s version of the Rams’ Aaron Donald as far as deciding to return to the football field at the last minute and test himself.

“I found my love for football again,” he said.

This road trip continues a series exploring California’s overlooked scenic highways, inspired in part by artist Earl Thollander’s 1971“Back Roads of California,” whose sketches and travel notes celebrated a slower way of traveling. After tracing Highway 127 along the edge of Death Valley and State Route 78 through the badlands of Anza Borrego, the journey now shifts to the north.

If you’ve ever found yourself driving along Highway 395, chances are good you’ve been craning your head west toward the Range of Light, staring at the formidable granite peaks of the Sierra Nevada.

I wouldn’t blame you.

The escarpment rises precipitously from the sagebrush-covered valley floor, climbing through pinyon and juniper woodlands into thick pine forests. Deep, twisted canyons cut into the mountainsides, their channels lined with aspen, before the forests give way to the exposed granite slopes and summits rising above 14,000 feet.

While I’ve spent countless days wandering that high country, camping in its meadows and watching shooting stars rip across the sky, I’ve spent the last decade driving up the 395 with my eyes fixed to the east. Here, the Sierra Nevada gives way to the sand-colored mountains and salty lakes of the Basin and Range, the arid region writer Mary Austin called the “country of lost borders.”

Much of this vast landscape is public land managed by the Bureau of Land Management, some of the least understood and most threatened public lands in the West. These are places I’ve traversed, documented and obsessed over for years, culminating in my book “The Enduring Wild.”

A view of Adobe Valley on River Spring Road off of Highway 120.

(Josh Jackson)

There are many routes that can take you east from the 395 and deep into the parched heart of these landscapes, but there is one route that stands above the rest. It’s what locals call Mono Mills Road and what road warriors nicknamed the “roller coaster highway” for its stomach-lifting undulations.

Welcome to State Route 120 East.

With the highway typically closing for the winter in December, there’s still time to experience this remarkable stretch of road before the snow arrives. The 45-mile route begins a few miles south of Lee Vining, where big sagebrush and rubber rabbitbrush paint the early miles in olive green and mustard yellow, a rich palette against the muted gravelly slopes of the Mono-Inyo Craters, a 25-mile-long volcanic chain of young rhyolite lava domes.

Soon, the highway cuts through miles of gray and white volcanic pumice and ash, creating a lunar-like landscape that manages to confuse the visual senses. Almost nothing grows here except the resilient Jeffrey pine, with its deep taproot and remarkably low metabolic demand. Each tree stands alone, as if carefully placed on the landscape. You can’t help but pull over and wander through the scratch-and-sniff trees, their bark releasing the scent of vanilla and butterscotch.

Ever present to the south, Mono Lake dominates the view from the highway. Its waters are part of the ancestral homeland of the Kootzaduka’a, whose name, meaning “brine fly eaters,” reflects their longstanding relationship with the lake and its ecology. My favorite time to visit is in late summer and fall, when migratory birds converge on the lake to feast on its abundant brine shrimp and alkali flies. For Wilson’s phalaropes, Mono Lake is often their last chance to fatten up before flying nonstop to South America.

Sagehen Summit offered spectacular views of fall foliage.

(Josh Jackson)

Wild horses roam.

(Josh Jackson)

In “Roughing It,” Mark Twain describes his visit to the lake, where he found “nothing but solitude, ashes, and heartbreaking silence.” For him, the area was “little graced with the picturesque.” You will still find solitude, but I doubt you’ll share Twain’s myopic opinion of beauty.

Twain wasn’t the last to overlook the value of Mono Lake. In 1941, the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power began diverting water from streams that feed the lake, sending it to the City of Angels via its controversial aqueduct. After just four decades, the lake had dropped nearly 50 feet, doubled in salinity and shrunk to half its original volume.

Without the formation of the Mono Lake Committee in 1978 by a group of upstart citizens, the lake might well have suffered the fate of Owens Lake, which had been drained decades earlier by the same Los Angeles aqueduct, leaving behind an eerily dry and dusty salt flat. A landmark 1994 decision curtailed LADWP water diversions, but three decades later, the lake remains roughly 10 feet below its state-established target elevation.

“We saved the lake from destruction,” Bartshé Miller, policy director for the Mono Lake Committee, told me by phone. “But we haven’t gotten the patient out of the hospital yet.” For those who want to help protect the lake, Miller suggests signing up for the committee’s newsletter to learn more about ongoing conservation efforts and ways to get involved.

Back on the highway, the road climbs steadily, surpassing 8,000 feet near mile 15. This is where Sagehen Meadows Road, a well-maintained gravel route, turns south. The 4-mile detour toward Sagehen Summit is worth your effort. In late September, the aspens covering the summit turn from green to amber gold, transforming the mountainside into an astonishing display of autumn color.

The sun kisses the mountains beyond in Adobe Valley.

(Josh Jackson)

Near the halfway point of the journey, another short dirt road leads to the BLM-managed Granite Mountain Wilderness, dominated by an 8,920-foot peak that resembles a stack of boulders glued together in the shape of a pyramid. With no trails on the mountain, reaching the top requires 1,800 feet of climbing. One sweltering July morning, two friends and I made the trek. We switchbacked up steep sandy pitches, scrambled over sections of class 3 granite, and reached the peak in the early afternoon. The summit register revealed roughly 40 names scribbled over the past decade, or what amounts to three or four people annually. Unbelievably, someone had already been there earlier that day, like a ghost we had neither seen nor heard nor felt. One of my companions added his name to the register and then wrote “sage for days.”

A few miles later, the highway earns its nickname as it quickly rises and falls over a succession of short hills that run through Adobe Valley. Between the crimson mesas rising above the flats, hidden lakes and springs, and the pronghorn and wild horses that roam the open country, this is my favorite place to venture off the highway and set up a camp chair. I would trade you a hundred Yosemite Valleys for the solitude and subtle beauty offered here at dusk, as the sun sets over the Glass Mountains and the sky turns mauve.

Forty-five miles after it began, the journey through volcanoes, salt lakes, pine forests, aspens and a valley that stretches across the horizon comes to an end at a lonely intersection with U.S. Route 6, which, improbably, runs all the way to Provincetown, Mass. I’ve made this drive a dozen times, and it’s the quiet and open spaces that always bring me back. The Sierra will always rightly command attention. But there’s an entire world waiting for those willing to turn east.

The route: State Route 120 East, between Highway 395 to U.S. Route 6

Distance: 45 miles (one way)

Drive time: 1.5 hours straight through; allow a full day for stops

Best time to go: With an average elevation of roughly 7,000 feet, the road is usually closed from December until late spring, when snowmobiles are the only way in (in 2023, the road didn’t open until July 1). You can find up to date Highway 120 closures on Caltrans website.

Fuel:

• Lee Vining (Mile 0)
• Benton (Mile 45)

Food/coffee:

Camping:

Lodging:

• El Mono Motel: Charming, family-run boutique lodging and coffee house.
• The Inn at Benton Hot Springs: Rustic elegance in a tranquil surrounding, the perfect spot to get away from it all and to relax and rejuvenate in the historic hot springs.
• Lake View Lodge: Cozy lodge with basic amenities and a cafe.

Hike/Explore/Learn:

Notes:

• These lands are the very definition of a landscape that requires all of us to “pack out what we pack in.” The only pit toilets are found at the South Tufa Interpretive Trail near mile 5.
• Dispersed camping is allowed on BLM land and in the National Forest around Sagehen Summit. There are dozens of gravel roads skirting the area where you can pull off the highway and park/camp for the night (please look for spaces that have previously been occupied). Many of these side roads are 2WD friendly, but please exercise caution!
• Check fire restrictions and get permits here
• Connectivity: Cell service is dependable along the route.
• Wildlife: Watch for pronghorn and wild horses.

  

A recent Times review of the new Samuel Oschin Air and Space Center declares that the Endeavour space shuttle — displayed for the first time ever in launch position — “is, simply put, one of the greatest artifacts ever installed in a museum.”

While it may be true that visitors will flock to L.A.’s newest cultural haven just to see the shuttle, the 200,000-square-foot addition to the California Science Center contains plenty of other mind-melting artifacts to gawk at — especially if you’re an aerospace buff. If you’ve read Tom Wolfe’s riveting 1979 book “The Right Stuff” (or seen the movie) about the early years of NASA’s space program, you’ll likely feel downright starstruck when confronted with iconic pieces of history ripped straight from its pages.

But there’s much more than history at this tech-forward new museum. This list of must-see artifacts reminds us of all we know about air and space, and all we don’t — as well as the many novel and ingenious ways we continue to work toward fresh discoveries.

NICKI Chapman has revealed she’s had a FOURTH operation on her foot as she shared a snap from her hospital bed.

The TV host, 59, best known for presenting Escape to The Countryside, Pop Idol and Wanted Down Under, took to Instagram to post a health update with her 160k followers.

In one picture she put her thumb up as she pointed at her boot while in hospital, followed by another of her out and about in London with a walking stick for support.

She captioned the post: “Every little step.

“Slowly getting there & managed to walk to the end of the road. Result! Note snazzy stick mainly to keep people away from my foot!

“Fourth op over the years – never gonna make Strictly Come Dancing nor run a marathon but grateful for each tweak keeping me mobile & pain free.

MAGICAL ESCAPE

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“Thanks for your lovely get well messages. N x.”

Her fans rushed to the comments section to share the love.

One said: “Hope you recover quickly and back on your feet very soon xx.”

Another wrote: “Wishing you a speedy recovery.”

“Get well soon Nicki,” a third chimed in.

A fourth added: Slowly, slowly… You’ll be there in no time xx.”

Nicki has gone through a number of health battles over the years, including a brain tumour diagnosis in 2019.

She’s also had problems with her ankle since she was 15 and was diagnosed with ankle spurs.

The NHS website describes it as: “Osteophytes (bone spurs) are bony lumps that grow on the bones in the spine or around joints. They form when a joint or bone has been damaged by arthritis, but do not always cause problems.”

Nicki previously recalled: “I started getting pains that felt like I’d twisted it – I couldn’t work out what I’d done.

“It was so sore I went to my doctor and was referred to a consultant who diagnosed ankle spurs. Bone spurs are tiny pointed outgrowths of bone which occur where the normal bone keeps growing.

“They were causing a restriction within my ankle, which became inflamed and excruciatingly painful.

“I had an operation to remove them, and remember my consultant warning me against pursuing any career involving standing up – otherwise I’d have serious problems by the time I was 30.

“I’d always wanted to be a theatrical make-up artist, which involves lots of standing, so my career dreams were shattered. But I followed his advice because looking after my wellbeing was paramount.”

20 years later Nicki had to have a second operation, and underwent surgery for a third time in 2015.