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I am back from my Nirvana in the North, my yearly trip to the magical place where everything is right. The place where the air is clean, the water is fresh, and the people are friendly. A place where I can look at a sign in front of any business and read it because they are all in English. If that isn’t Nirvana, please tell me what is.
My family and I relaxed by the lake for twelve glorious days as we recharged our batteries. Getting ready to embrace another year of school, work, baseball and softball. A last chance to rest before climbing back on that giant hamster wheel of life to make that sucker spin.
The Eastern High Sierras, for those of you who have never been, is truly gorgeous. The mountains are spectacular, they seem to cut the crystal blue sky with their peaks. The lakes are clear melted snow water. When the sun is right, you can see to the bottom of the lake and the rainbow trout swimming by just waiting to be caught. Which is what my son, Alex, did to the tune of 30, his best outing yet, and every fish was caught with a bubble and a fly. What kind of fly I can’t tell you, because that’s a professional secret between Alex and me.
If fishing is not your cup of tea, there are many other things to lose yourself in while there, depending on your energy level. You can hike the many trails, go mountain bike riding, swim at the beaches, boating, look for wildlife, shop, visit one of the historical sights nearby, read, eat at one of the many fine restaurants, and nap by the lakeside.
Those last two, eating and napping, are my personal favorites. Nothing in this world beats waking from an afternoon nap to the sound of the wind blowing through the aspen trees and the lake gently tickling the shore. The eating portion of the equation has definitely been enhanced this time around now that we finally tried the best restaurant in the High Sierras, Tioga Toomey’s Whoa Nelly Deli.
To locals in the area the Whoa Nelly Deli is no secret. They all go regularly to sample executive chef Matt Toomey’s many fine masterpieces, including Lobster Tacquitos, Kansas City Steak Caesar Salad, and Buffalo Meatloaf. If you are just passing by, and are not in the know, you might drive right by this Mobil Station on your way to the Eastern entrance to Yosemite. Yes, I did say Mobil Station, which is what makes this restaurant such a surprise. Who would have thought that a four star restaurant would be located in a gas station, but it is. The Whoa Nelly Deli is destined to becoming as mandatory a part of going to Yosemite as seeing Half Dome.
Back at the cabin, where life is slow and the living is easy, one activity that my entire family enjoys is looking for wildlife. There are plenty of varieties there to keep us busy. In the evenings there are the bears, raccoons, and deer, during the days the chipmunks and a variety of birds. And then there are the ducks……….
Over the past few years the duck population has escalated. The ducks have become an integral part of lake life especially when your cabin is as close to the edge of the lake as ours is. It has become a ritual, from the moment we arrive until just minutes before we leave, to feed the ducks. From the time we arrive they become members of the family.
This year my wife, Stacey, took a particular liking to one duck that had an injured wing. Because the duck seemed to twitch while it walked she named it “Twitcher.” Naming the ducks or other woodland beasts is not uncommon during our vacation. For example, every year there always seems to be one chipmunk that is twice the size of the rest and that one immediately becomes that year’s “Big Fat” and so it goes.  But Twitcher was different for my wife and her good-hearted nature for anybody or anything that is at a disadvantage kicked in to high gear and she immediately took Twitcher under her wing. Trying to favor one duck out of fifty proved to be a challenge. But for twelve days she stuck to her guns and was determined to get Twitcher fattened up for his flight south for the winter. I firmly believe that a lot of this nurturing was due to the fact that we our dog Stella passed away a couple of months ago and she missed having a pet. So during our vacation Twitcher became her surrogate pet. Twitcher was only too happy to go along for the ride, sitting at my wife’s feet, even when not being fed, just like a dog.
The challenge was compounded by the fact that some of the ducks had become so used to human feeding that they were fearless. There was one group in particular, who I called Ma Barker and the Boys, because a bigger group of duck thugs I have never met. This band was comprised of a mama duck and her four almost fully-grown babies, who shared the same sort of strong-arm tactics that the 1930 gangsters I named them after had.
This brazen little group, unlike the other ducks, would march right up to you demanding to be fed, whether you had any bread or not. They would even resort to pecking at your legs and feet trying to force you to do they’re bidding. Unfortunately for the ducks, being pecked by them is neither frightening nor painful in any way. For all intents and purposes ducks are wimps.
One morning I was standing at the end of our dock having a cup of coffee enjoying the serenity of the morning when a strange feeling swept over me. As I slowly turned to look back to the cabin there, at the other end of the dock, stood Ma and the boys. They were lined up in a perfect row across the dock attempting to block my way. It was like a scene from a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie. I found myself wondering if the Whoa Nellie Deli ever served duck.
The last day of vacation arrived all too soon and we closed up the cabin and gave the last of the bread to the ducks, especially Twitcher. Stacey even went so far as to mention him to our neighbor, Laurie, in hopes that she would continue the care program. Stacey really didn’t want to leave her “pet” behind and was worried about her when we left.
Four days after getting home our new dog Ruby joined the family.
The Shrub Speaks: Like you, I'm most interested in seeing how the process evolves (the Governor’s race.) It's a fascinating bit of political drama evolving in the state -- in the country's largest state. Crawford, Texas, 8/13/03
-- BD’s response - Being Prez of this fine nation, I think you should know that Alaska is the country’s largest state, followed by your home State, Texas, coming in third is California.
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