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It was that time of year again when my family and I pack it up and make the trek up Interstate 395 to the paradise I refer to as my “Nirvana To The North”. Every year it seems to be a little bit different. Whether it is the kids’ changing school schedules and personal dynamics, or our ever-morphing world, each year has a new little slant to deal with.
The route there was the same as every year, but the gas prices sure weren’t. The further north we traveled the altitude wasn’t the only thing that was rising. At every stop to refuel I felt like I needed oxygen to keep me from passing out from sticker shock.
Even though we didn’t gas up when we went through the town of Lee Vining at the eastern entrance to Yosemite National Park, the prices topped $4.00 a gallon for regular gas. Be prepared fellow motorists. These prices could be headed south in the near future with the way things have been going during the last year.
We got there, a little poorer, but we got there. I had to sell one of the kids in Lone Pine, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Just kidding of course. I did notice a lot of cattle on the way up this year and I am sure the farmers could use some help. Maybe I could get a good price for one of them next year if their teenage attitudes don’t improve.
This year’s group was a tad different, our son, Alex, brought his friend Nick Montenegro as usual, and we had our daughter, Rachel, back with us after losing her to the land down under last year. What made this year a little different was that instead of bringing a girlfriend she brought her boyfriend, Andrew Viotti, as her guest.
Yeah, yeah, I know some of you are saying, “Are you crazy? That sounds like a recipe for disaster.” Well if I hadn’t known her boyfriend since he was born and his father since I was five you can bet that any other significant other would not be making the trip. Not only that, we made sure that they were properly separated at night, and accounted for at all other times. As my parents’ friend, John Nagy, is fond of saying, “ It was all good”.
The differences on this year’s trip continued once we arrived. My wife, Stacey, is notorious for doing certain things when we are on vacation or preparing for it. Number one is making lists, which is a good thing when packing up when you are getting ready to leave. It is even a better thing when you actually use the list, which is a hard thing to do when your husband doesn’t bring the list to the kitchen where it belongs when you are packing and it’s 5:00 in the morning. Leave it safe to say that when we went to prepare some of our meals, critical ingredients were missing. Little things like the pasta for the spaghetti dinner for one example. I know, I’m a dope.
While this can be infuriating when in the middle of preparing a meal, but if the missing ingredients are noticed prior to starting the meal it is the perfect excuse to go out for dinner or lunch. Everyone in the group, especially mom, embraces this proposition with open arms. At these moments I am completely forgiven for my misplacement of the packing list. In fact it is applauded and probably will be encouraged next year.
The one problem is the number of restaurants in the immediate area. As I have mentioned in the past there are many excellent eateries in the Eastern Sierras, unfortunately the majority are clumped together 30 minutes away in the big city of Mammoth Lakes. So the spontaneous dinner plans are limited to a few locations.
The best of course is the Whoa Nellie Deli, but it closes earlier than most and is the furthest away. Being the late eaters that we are, we sometimes couldn’t make it there by their closing time. The others are all hit and miss propositions as far as quality goes which leaves you with only one sure bet, “The Tiger Bar & Cafe” in June Lake.
“The Tiger” has been around since 1932 and is quite a legendary little place. It has had, like most restaurants in the Sierras, it’s ups and downs, but I must say that in the last 5 years it has been very consistent both in quality and service. Every year there is a stand out among the servers and this year it was a young Scotsman named Tavish. He was worth the price of admission just in himself, whether he was taking our order with his quick wit and humorous banter, or flirting with every woman in the place or they flirting with him.
The Tiger’s clientele runs the gambit. Fishermen, bikers, families of campers, and the colorful local gentry. Those who are there for breakfast, lunch, or dinner are treated to the ongoing entertainment at the bar since there is no division between the two areas. And yes, Tavish played both sides of the room.
Tavish, as entertaining as he was, is only one reason we go there, the biggest being the food. While we all have developed our favorites over the years, the true stand out on their menu is the Mexican food. You can’t go wrong with anything under the “Mexican Specialties” section on their menu.
But back to my wife, and her second obsession while on vacation in “Nirvana”. That would be the abundant wildlife that surrounds you and her need to photograph it all. She has her camera at the ready at all times for the next feathered or furry face to expose itself. I thank god every day for the invention of the digital camera. Kodak and Fuji held a day of mourning when my wife switched to digital photography.
 While she is always on the look out for bear and deer, her true fans while we are there are the members of the duck community. And if you are a duck with any kind of malady, you will be feed excessively and become her favorite for the duration of our trip. A couple of years ago it was a duck with a damaged wing that she named “Twitcher”. This year was one that had a massive growth on the side of its head that we referred to as either “Tumor Boy” or “The Elephant Duck”. Trust me, just like “Twitcher” before him “Elephant Duck” was the best-fed duck on the lake.
It is as though the ducks know when Stacey arrives. My mom who was there before we arrived said that there were very few ducks the entire time she was there. The first time Stacey walked on to the dock it was as though there was some kind of announcement on the duck news. They started coming out of nowhere heading straight for the dock as if they recognized her.
This turned out to be a double-edged sword especially after a couple of days of non-stop feeding frenzies, especially for those of us who like to fish off the dock. For some reason this year’s batch of ducks had become more aggressive than those in past years. As a matter of fact some of them were just plain crazy.
Case in point, “The Nick Situation”. We should have seen it coming on the days leading up to the ill fated “Situation”. As we would cast our lines with bubbles and flies off of the dock, the Duck Armadas flocked toward us looking for Stacey to feed them. Normally this would not be a problem as the ducks usually stick close to shore, but not this year.
This year, instead of coming straight to shore, they started thinking that our bubbles and flies might be something good to eat. They couldn’t have been more wrong, as Nick was soon to find out.
As Nick made his cast a group from the armada charged at full speed at his line. Nick panicked and started reeling in at full speed so they wouldn’t get tangled up in his line or worse get his fly hooked in a duck’s beak. Well both happened, and now it was the duck’s turn to panic and we on the dock were faced with a dilemma. We could have cut Nick’s line and hope that the duck would be OK or reel him in and assess the situation.
We opted for the latter based on the fact that this completely freaked out duck was thrashing around like a hooked great white shark, getting more tangled up with each manic movement. Nick did his best deep-sea fisherman impersonation reeling in the frantic foul close enough for us to net him.
 Once in the net we discovered that reeling him in was the best thing. The hungry little bugger, in his attempt to eat the fly, had pierced his bill through both sides in effect suturing his bill closed. Plus, in his valiant tries to get free, he had wound himself up in 4 pound test fishing line.
After subduing him, I got the pleasure of playing doctor and carefully removed the hook. In order to remove the line we had to loosen the net. I was able to get the better part of the line off of him, but as soon as I did, and with the net not completely closed, the duck was through with my amateur veterinary skills and made a break for it.
The word must have spread because from that day forward attempts to go after the fishing lines declined as did the numbers of ducks that flocked toward the dock looking for food. I guess they were pissed off and were punishing us for what happened to their feathered friend.
In the scheme of things in life by the lake, that’s better than having the bears mad at you.
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