VVR: Vermilion Valley Resort Backpacker Resupply

Note: This is a placeholder page, and will be filled with information at some point in time.

As you will see, VVR is one of my favorite resupply spots between Lake Tahoe and Mount Whitney.

Check out their website for more information: Vermilion Valley Resort

Though I'm not prepped to do a VVR resupply page, I was recently thinking of Butch and Peg, VVR's last owners. This stimulated me to put up the following note.

Butch and Peg

RIP to Butch, of Butch and Peg, the previous owners of VVR. I've got stories. Just wait. That couple took care of backpackers. I saw and experienced their relentless hospitality.  I was seriously shocked and saddened to hear of Butch's death, and I urged Peg to keep VVR, and the spirit of the place going. But that place is a huge workload to maintain, let alone provide retail services while raising two young daughters.

My best wishes go out to Peg, and I hope she and her two beautiful daughters are doing well. Hell, I can sleep later. let me tell you a bit about Peg...

The Spirit of VVR

I always walk into VVR. My JMT route does not stick to the JMT South of Reds Meadow. Instead, I head South into Fish Valley to hike up to Iva Bell Hot Springs. It is totally worth the extra miles and elevation.

After spending two delightful nights at Iva Bell, I departed very early to attempt a one-day hike over to VVR. I made it. It is some tremendous mileage that escapes me now, at 5:08 am. I've done it four times, but only once in one hike. I think it's 27 miles... But the mileage was important to this story, because of what it did to me.

The Hike to VVR

Rather than stop and camp at a logical time, the knowledge that VVR was at the end of the trail pushed me past sunset and right through twilight. I hiked into VVR deep into the dark. When I arrived the bonfire had been lit, and the backpacker circle had formed, well decorated with horsepackers, a couple of fishermen, and a drive-in or two.

 As VVR caters to hikers, the kid (Butch and Peg's) who saw me first shouted "walk-in, Mom, walk-in."

Meet Peg

This gets Mom, Peg, out to greet the hike, Me. I walked into the store as Peg was coming out to greet me with the customary ice-cold beer and tent cabin deal.

Peg said, "Hey, how you doing?," and I answered with a blank stare highlighted by deep concentration. Peg's eyes narrowed, and she asked me, "where you come from?" I knew where I came from, and I knew how I was, but for the life of me I could not say "Iva Bell," and "hungry as hell." Then Peg asked, "Where you going to?" Again, I knew the signal word that would answer her question, "Whitney," but if my life was in the balance I could not say it.

Peg's gaze sharpened, and she looked  me carefully at up and down. She came around from behind the counter, took my hand, and led me into the dining room, which was long closed. The cook and kitchen staff (staffed with backpacker help-as I came to personally know) were busy cleaning up. Peg called back to the cook, "can you make this guy up a dinner?"

The cook looked up, looked at me, and said, "sure. I got a big plate for you." Now I could talk, but I could only muster two words: "No Money."

Peg looked up at me, 'cause she's a short chick, and broke out in a big smile, saying, "honey, you need food a hell of a lot more than I need money," and broke into a laugh, which the cook echoed.

I almost frkn cried. Values like that are rare any time and place. I knew right then that I had walked into something special.

Meet Butch

Butch joined us at the table as I wolfed down huge slices of roast beef, well lubricated with gravy-drenched mashed potatoes and highlit by stringbeans. Butch pushed a bud over to me, and I said, now being able to speak again, "Butch, I can't stop eating your food, but I can't drink your beer too." Butch got that biker-badass look that fit so well on his Sierra-grizzled face and said, seriously, "you too good to drink with me?" I popped the beer.

I understood right then and there that Butch took things seriously. Butch was a chill dude, but he would give you your marching orders if you did not show respect for him, his family, his friends, his guests, and his house. I saw him march many ill-manered people out.

People learned common sense and courtsey quickly around Butch. I wish he took as well as he gave.

My hiking plan was to pick up my resupply and split quick. Hey, I'm a frkn backpacking bum. If I can't afford it, I gotta go. But I had to do what little I could do to make them good for saving my drained ass. I was crashing hard. I think they call it "bonking." 

 I asked if they had a phone, and I'd try to pay for the food. They do. It's a very expensive sat phone. I called up my sis and explained my situation. She laughed and said, "stay a couple of days. Here's my credit card #." I did.

That's how I met Butch and Peg.

That's only the first story. The current owner and staff adds layers of personality to this day.

Jim, the new owner of VVR maintains the style and spirit of VVR, with elements of his character adding new dimensions to this special place.

 Looks Dashing, don't he? Note the grizzled fishermen heading out to fish Mono Creek...

Vermilion Valley References

VVR

Trail Guide Resupply Resources: Tahoe to Whitney Backpacker Resupply