We spent the past few days shacked up on the backside of the Yosemite mountains overlooking Walker Lake, in the most enchanting little log cabin you could possibly imagine. Part of a long standing private retreat established way back in the 1920s, when it was still possible to purchase and build on land attached to Yosemite's backyard. A lot where Roosevelt stayed and woman were originally forbidden, and has since become an elite vacation spot to a mere 30 very lucky members currently holding cabin keys. The only reason we were so fortunate is because Mike's father has serviced the property's fire extingushers for the past 30 years, with an open cabin for a week a year as trade, and this year, they kindly offered us one for our family to stay in as well.
But, there is a little story behind it.
Per my last post: "I'm taking a break because I need to get stuff done" was exactly what we had in mind for the days ahead. Deciding to skip the trip we had originally planned on because of all the "stuff" we had going on. Let's get caught up. We'll go next year. For sure. Too much going right now, is what we concluded -- A reasonable decision we had both come to except after days of mulling over the fact of it, despite having promised ourselves this would be the year we finally made it back up there (we went as a dating couple many years ago) However, breaking the same news to a six year old proved sorely outside of the "ration" we had come to settle on, and landed straight into a full fledged screaming fit tinged with good 'ole fashioned heartache, and bitter raw resentment. In the midst of it, we realized he was right. Why couldn't all the other things wait, why should we miss out on something so special, with family, in this surreal setting that other people would give their right arm to experience. So, we packed up and ditched every single obligation on our plate. Tossed our clothes in a filthy car, grabbed some fruit and sandwiches and headed up the 395. The drive was long. The kids were loud and the dog was great (except for that little incident when we all jumped out of the car at the gas station in bishop and he locked us out, costing us 65 dollars in towing assistance and an hour lost on the road)
It was incredible. In those few days we watched Arlo fish with his grandpa. See the boys learn about catch and release, rainbow trout, lava rocks, volcanos, stacking stones, checkers, and brand new card games. We took naps, went to breakfast, walked back and forth to that big beautiful lake, ate dinner with his parents, and watched Rex toss pebbles into the water and Leon complain about a missing flashlight all day long. It was the best. And Yosemite was just beyond what I (or these photos) could possibly begin to try and explain. Magnificent in all it's huge, striking gray granite glory. Too big for regular people with regular words to even start to tackle without sounding like pathetically failing poets. I won't try, except to say that it was well worth the headache we came back to, struggling to get back ahead of all that we jumped shipped on.
It will happen. It always does. But at least we can now remember that this year, the first of Fall was met in that gorgeous little home in the woods watching the sun fall behind the water, and not in a shady garage watching dad run power tools and mom sweep the floors.
For the push.