California is too big, too various, to ever be captured in a single journey. But highway 395 comes close.

Running along the spine of the Sierra Nevada, it takes you through forests, lakes, high desert, and granite cathedrals of stone. My partner and I were already in the Bay Area for a family wedding, and afterward set out on a ten-day road trip that proved both a practical guide to California’s great outdoors and an immersion in its quieter, more reflective side.

Tiburon and the Waters Edge Hotel

We began gently, staying at the Waters Edge Hotel in Tiburon while attending the family celebrations. The name promises romance, but only a handful of rooms truly face the water. Ours, tucked at the far end of the terrace, had just a sliver of a view through a side window — but after the long-haul flight from London, it suited our jet lag perfectly.

What Tiburon offers, beyond hotel views, is stillness. Perched on its peninsula with San Francisco glittering across the bay, it has the air of a place slightly outside of time. The laughter of family, the sweep of water, and the sense of being anchored by occasion set the tone for the trip ahead.

Renting like a local

Instead of the usual car rental desk, we turned to Turo, the peer-to-peer car-sharing platform. Think Airbnb, but for cars. Our host at SFO handed over the keys to a Land Rover Range Rover, a model we were already familiar with back home in the UK. For a road trip like this, comfort and familiarity made all the difference.

Day 1–2: McCloud and Mount Shasta

Leaving Tiburon, we drove north to McCloud, a historic logging town tucked beneath Mount Shasta. The McCloud Hotel wears its age with charm, creaking floorboards and all. Nearby, the McCloud River offers hikes to three waterfalls in quick succession, each framed by thick pine forest.

Locals sent us to Hari Om Shri Ram, an unassuming Indian restaurant in Shasta town that proved extraordinary — fragrant curries that felt like a hidden blessing on the road.

Day 3–4: Lake Tahoe and the Desolation Hotel

We had imagined Lake Tahoe as a remote wilderness. In truth, South Lake Tahoe is more like the region’s mini Las Vegas, with casinos glowing at night. Luckily, the Desolation Hotel offered quiet refuge. We stayed in a townhouse with a small living room below, bedroom above, and even a bathtub on the terrace.

Tahoe itself remains extraordinary. Kayaking across Emerald Bay, with its jewel-green water and tiny island at the center, felt like gliding through a postcard. From Truckee’s Jack’s on the Tracks diner to hikes along the Yuba River, the mix of alpine clarity and retro Americana gave Tahoe a quirky charm we hadn’t expected.

Day 4: Mono Lake’s otherworldly shores

South from Tahoe, the landscape changes. Mono Lake appears suddenly, vast and ancient, nearly a million years old. Its water is so salty that only brine shrimp survive, yet the shoreline teems with birds. The tufas — jagged limestone towers — rise from the lake like alien sculptures.

After the abundance of Tahoe’s green, Mono Lake’s stillness felt almost eerie, but unforgettable.

Day 5: June Lake to Mammoth Lakes

This stretch of Highway 395 is a parade of lakes: June, Gull, Silver, Grant — each glinting into view as though staged for effect. They sit in the Sierra like sapphires in a crown. Further south, Mammoth Lakes feels sharper, more volcanic, the peaks crowding close.

Compared to the English Lake District, which wears its beauty gently, these waters feel bigger, bolder, less human-scaled. Shores are cliffs and forests, not cottages. You breathe deeper here, as if the altitude itself expands your lungs.

Day 6–7: Yosemite via Groveland

From June Lake, we cut west to Groveland, the Big Oak Flat entrance to Yosemite. Our Airbnb made a simple base, but nothing prepares you for Yosemite itself.

Alone together in the valley, we felt the world open around us. No photograph, not even Ansel Adams’s, can prepare you for the scale: granite cliffs rising straight from the earth, light shifting across them until stone becomes sculpture. Half Dome and El Capitan stand like natural cathedrals; waterfalls spill down their faces; meadows stretch wide and golden where an ancient sea once lay.

Walking here, you feel small yet profoundly connected. Yosemite reminds you that beauty is not an accident, but the patient artistry of time itself.

Day 8–9: Sequoia National Park and Three Rivers

From Groveland, we drove south to Three Rivers, gateway to Sequoia National Park. Here the trees become the stars. General Sherman, the largest living tree on Earth, dwarfs you into silence. Their sheer girth and height feel prehistoric, reminders that the human timeline is barely a scratch against theirs.

The town of Three Rivers has a frontier charm, part artist colony, part staging post for adventurers. It was the most relaxed part of our trip, and we wished for another night or two here.

Day 10: Olema and the return

Our last stop was Olema House, north of San Francisco, a gentle place to decompress before the flight home. After days of granite, glaciers, and redwood immensity, the rolling hills of Marin felt like a soft landing.

Reflections on the road

If we learned one thing, it’s that our trip was too condensed. California distances are longer in reality than they appear on paper, and we spent more hours than we’d like in the car. Three nights in each location, instead of two, would have given us space to breathe.

Still, Highway 395 delivered something rare: a journey that is both scenic and soul-stirring. It took us from family laughter in Tiburon to the silence of Yosemite meadows; from Indian curries in Shasta to brine shrimp at Mono Lake; from terrace bathtubs in Tahoe to the shadow of Sequoias older than empires.

California’s landscapes are vast, sometimes overwhelming. But stitched together in a road trip, they remind you that travel is not just about moving through space. It’s about moving through time — geological, human, and your own.