Picture Day goes to Tahoe!
In May 1998 Krys and I went to Lake Tahoe and met my parents and my sister and her new husband for a nice vacation. Lake Tahoe is pretty cool - the Nevada side has a bunch of big casinos, and when you get to the state line with California, all the buildings are a lot smaller and less obnoxious. The state line is a small walkway, with casinos literally built right next to it. We had a nice time share apartment and did a lot of cool stuff. Because my mom was there, we had to go to the Calaveras County Fair (yes, it was going on at that time) to see the jumping frog competition. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you have never heard of Mark Twain's little story. Well, the people of Calaveras County think it's pretty groovy, so they have a jumping competition every year. And of course my mom wanted to go.
As we drove over the mountains from Tahoe to Calaveras County, we stopped at a small convenience store. My brother-in-law, who is remarkably droll even though he doesn't really look like he would be, said casually, "I'm going to hit the motherlode." We had no idea what he was talking about, but then we saw what he was talking about:
Yes, the port-o-potty was called the "Motherlode." So perfect. It has become an in-joke between Krys and I. I wonder if my sister even remembers it. I should ask her.
So we went down to the fair, and it was pleasant enough. My mom has a problem with staying far too long at places that really aren't that exciting, and the jumping frog competition was really not that exciting. The competitors can't touch the frogs, but they can smack the ground and yell at their frogs. The judges figure out how far they go in three jumps. There are a LOT of competitors. Here's one of them:
We finally dragged my mother back to Tahoe. On the way we stopped in the mountains. Check out that hottie with that big geek!
The pool at Lake Tahoe was heated, and there was still snow on the ground even though it was May. So we had to sit in the pool and hold snowballs. This is a horrible picture of me, but I believe in the coolness of the snow/pool thing rather than suppressing horrible photos of me!
The following day we went to Squaw Valley to ski. Krys, my brother-in-law, and my mom did not go along, because they don't ski. I know, I know - maybe they're Communists or something. I took my camera because I thought it would be neat to get some pictures of us on the slopes. I took this picture as we were going up in the cable car. I call it "Godzilla's view of the world."
This is my sister and me ready to go!
I know those look like gnats, but it's actually my sister and my father.
After we went skiing, we hung out in the lodge for a bit and checked out the pool. It was really hot that day, and there were people suntanning. Even with all that snow piled high next to the pool!
I had a really good time - Squaw Valley is a very cool place to ski. Because it was still chilly in the morning, though, and a bit overcast, I forgot to put sun screen on before I went skiing. I got burned so badly that a day or two I looked like a leper. Seriously. I thought all my skin was going to fall off.
So that was the first couple of days of our vacation. There's so much more! So much!
As we drove over the mountains from Tahoe to Calaveras County, we stopped at a small convenience store. My brother-in-law, who is remarkably droll even though he doesn't really look like he would be, said casually, "I'm going to hit the motherlode." We had no idea what he was talking about, but then we saw what he was talking about:
Yes, the port-o-potty was called the "Motherlode." So perfect. It has become an in-joke between Krys and I. I wonder if my sister even remembers it. I should ask her.
So we went down to the fair, and it was pleasant enough. My mom has a problem with staying far too long at places that really aren't that exciting, and the jumping frog competition was really not that exciting. The competitors can't touch the frogs, but they can smack the ground and yell at their frogs. The judges figure out how far they go in three jumps. There are a LOT of competitors. Here's one of them:
We finally dragged my mother back to Tahoe. On the way we stopped in the mountains. Check out that hottie with that big geek!
The pool at Lake Tahoe was heated, and there was still snow on the ground even though it was May. So we had to sit in the pool and hold snowballs. This is a horrible picture of me, but I believe in the coolness of the snow/pool thing rather than suppressing horrible photos of me!
The following day we went to Squaw Valley to ski. Krys, my brother-in-law, and my mom did not go along, because they don't ski. I know, I know - maybe they're Communists or something. I took my camera because I thought it would be neat to get some pictures of us on the slopes. I took this picture as we were going up in the cable car. I call it "Godzilla's view of the world."
This is my sister and me ready to go!
I know those look like gnats, but it's actually my sister and my father.
After we went skiing, we hung out in the lodge for a bit and checked out the pool. It was really hot that day, and there were people suntanning. Even with all that snow piled high next to the pool!
I had a really good time - Squaw Valley is a very cool place to ski. Because it was still chilly in the morning, though, and a bit overcast, I forgot to put sun screen on before I went skiing. I got burned so badly that a day or two I looked like a leper. Seriously. I thought all my skin was going to fall off.
So that was the first couple of days of our vacation. There's so much more! So much!
Labels: Calaveras County, Lake Tahoe, My life, Picture day
posted by Greg | 2:37 PM
4 Comments:
Did you give Charlie Brown back his sweater?
:D
I read about Calaveras County in Jr. High. I HOPE people understood your reference.
I wondered if someone would pick on my shirt. I love that shirt, man! I still have it, but I'm too large around the middle to wear it and it's a bit faded. I looked for years for a Charlie Brown shirt, and found it in a little store in State College while I went to Penn State. Don't dis the shirt!
You never know, Roger, you just never know. It's not really a terribly famous Twain story. I actually never knew it was a real county!
Ah, I miss Tahoe. We lived up there for four years until the insane real estate market, tourists (MEAN tourists, not like you!) and snow 6 months a year drove us a way.
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