Virginia City — Day 1

I headed out from Tahoe on Sunday. My car’s stupid low tire pressure light came on for the second time in a week, so I popped over to Incline Village to grab a coconut mocha then went to my favorite service station to check the tires. As I was on my knees with my little air pressure gauge thingie, a young guy came over and asked how they were looking. Turns out he worked there. I told him that the tire pressure light kept coming on and he said I might have a slow leak, and to pull the car around to the dock and he’d check it for me. My knight in shining armor! He spent a long time looking for a leak. Didn’t find anything, thankfully. I told him I was travelling on my own and was really afraid of getting a flat out in the middle of nowhere. I said I was thinking of getting a can of Fix-A-Flat, and he said that wasn’t a bad idea, and told me where I could get one. (Right across the street!) I asked how much I owed him, and he said nothing. He was really sweet.

I toodled over to the Ace Hardware and got the last can of Fix-A-Flat for compact tires. Whew! Fix-A-Flat has gotten me out of scary flat-tire-out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere situations at least three times in my life, so I feel a bit safer now.

Because it had been snowing, I also decided to make one last stop at Sand Harbor before leaving, because I’d never seen it with snow. There wasn’t much snow there, but there was tons on the road there. In fact, it was still actively snowing. It was so beautiful. I wish I could have taken video while I was driving. I always did that a lot on trips with Kim, but that was when I was a passenger and could hold the camera. Hard to hold a camera and drive. I wish I could find something to hold the camera on the dashboard, but I have no idea where to even look for something like that. An auto parts store??? Radio Shack???

I hung out on the beach for a bit, shooting some video in the freezing cold and driving wind. By the time I got back in the car thirty minutes later, my face was chapped and my hands were so numb I couldn’t grib the steering wheel. I had to sit there and thaw out for a bit. But hopefully the video turned out nice.

I went over Mt. Rose. Serious snow up there. None on the highway, thankfully, but it was coming down pretty good, coating thick on the ground and trees. As soon as I got to the bottom and descended into Reno, sun and blue sky. Nice.

The drive up the mountain to Virginia City was uneventful, except that the whole way I kept thinking, Kim always drove this… On the drive up, I did stop at the turnout that Kim and I always stopped at. I wanted to walk around there, as we always did, but the second I got out of my car, nope!, way too cold and windy. There were a bunch of pretty yellow daisies dotting the fields there, though, and I picked one and set it in the dashboard nook under Kim’s photo. (I took a pic. I actually have several photos I wanted to include in this entry, but the wi-fi connection wasn’t working in my room — I’ve had to post the last couple of updates from the hotel’s Great Room — and I haven’t had time to compress them yet, so those will come at another time. .)

I got to the Tahoe House Hotel around 4pm. The owner, Daan, was waiting for me and immediately poured me a glass of wine (a fantastic Zinfandel) and we sat down for a long chat in the rocking chairs in front of the spectacular antique glass stove in the Great Room. Kim and I met Daan when we were here last year and we had planned to stay here this year. Daan’s into biking, too, so last year, over a glass of wine, he told Kim about a variety of nice mountain biking trails here. (Kim woke up early the next morning and went out on one. He got two flats along the way — big nails, because there are remnants of a lot of mine shafts here — and he was so frustrated! But he said it was a great trail to ride.) When I made my reservations on the phone and told Daan that Kim had died, he was really upset and promised he’d take good care of me while I was here. Daan lost his 12-year-old son in an accident some years back, so he’s no stranger to grief himself. So when I arrived, we just sat and talked for a long time. It was nice, comforting, talking to someone who understands.

He upgraded me from the Garden Room (at the back of the hotel) to Mark Twain’s Study at the front, with two sets of spectacular French doors that open onto the deck overlooking the main street. I had a beautiful lookout over the 100 Mile View and moon was rising. He told me I’d get morning sun. (Sure enough, as I opened my eyes mid-turn-over at 5:30 the next morning, the sunrise was SO stunning I jumped out of bed, half asleep, grabbed my camera, and ran out onto the deck in my pajamas (and it was freezing, too!) to take some pics before climbing back in bed to catch a couple more hours of sleep.)

I was so exhausted my first night, I climbed into bed to watch a movie around 9pm and by 9:30 I was out like a light.

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Memorial Marker #3: Cabin On Lake Tahoe

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I placed the marker at the cabin on Saturday afternoon. God, the many happy hours we spent here…

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Geese At The Cabin In Tahoe

Every year, when I would arrive at the cabin, one of the first things I’d do was call my mom and Kim to report on the goose situation. (My mom was always much more excited about these updates than Kim was.)

There is a park at the edge of the property where Canada geese nest and lay their eggs, so I would eagerly await my first sighting of a goose couple or, if the weather was warm enough, an entire family. Every morning I’d jump out of bed as soon as I’d hear honking. That was my alarm clock, the signal that the geese were getting ready to head out on the lake for the day. They’d come waddling along the shore toward the pier and set off from there.

One year I was so excited that there was a family with five goslings. I got up at dawn every morning to watch them go out, and in the evenings I waited for them to come back home. The goslings were hilarious, always wandering off to investigate something interesting, scrabbling hither and thither, and Mama Goose would get annoyed and go round the stragglers up while Papa stood further down the beach looking annoyed, impatient to get the show on the road. You could hear him tapping his little foot and sighing with exasperation as he sat in the driveway, engine running, honking the car horn. But that’s how it is when you have kids. You signed up for this, pal.




I kept Mom and Kim updated on the goslings every day, and I was excited for Kim to arrive so he could see them in person. The day he came, we piddled and drove around a bit on the way over to the cabin, as we always did, but I made sure we were back by evening so he would  get to see them come in for the night.

Just as we got to the cabin, right on cue, I saw their bobbing shapes out in the water, coming around the rocky bend, heading for the shore. “Kim! KIM! THERE THEY ARE, THE FAMILY’S COMING!!!” We went out on the deck to watch the procession, as did our neighbors. The geese get to shore, Mama, Papa, babies one, two, three, four…. four….. four……. “Oh my god, there’s one missing. There should be five. Where’s the fifth one?” I strained my eyes looking as far out over the water as I could, hoping the baby was just lagging behind. Nothing. I started chewing my nails. The goose family stood in a group at the water’s edge, also waiting. I asked the neighbors if they could see the missing baby. (No.) After some minutes had passed, the goose family gave up and started the march toward home. Kim got bored and went inside to unpack. The neighbors went inside to make dinner. I sat out on the deck alone in the cold and started to cry.

After about fifteen minutes, I went down to the water and paced back and forth, wringing my hands, looking for any sign of movement. Hey, what’s that? Oh, it’s just the bachelor goose coming around the bend, heading for home. I’d been keeping an eye on him every day, too. I felt sad for him, wondering why he didn’t have a mate, wondering if something tragic had happened to her, wondering if he was lonely. Watching him broke my heart. But wait, what’s THAT? I thought I spotted a tiny bobble in the water next to him. He was still pretty far out, I couldn’t see what it was. Maybe the glints on the water were playing tricks with my eyes. Yes, it must just be the light on the water. But, no, wait, really, there’s something there… What IS that? 

A gosling!

It had to be the missing baby! I wasn’t aware of any single geese with single goslings in the area. I instantly imagined that baby had straggled at some point, looked up to find himself alone in the middle of nowhere, and then he latched onto the first adult he came across for the rest of the day. Bachelor looked awfully worn out. It didn’t seem like he had enjoyed playing uncle, but his sense of duty prevailed. A man of honor!

I raced toward the cabin. “KimKimKimKimKimKim! IT’S THE BACHELOR GOOSE, AND HE HAS THE OTHER BABY WITH HIM!”

Kim came out to watch. The neighbors came out to see what all the ruckus was. I was so happy, skipping around, dancing and laughing and singing.

The goose family also came back to see what was going on.

Papa and Mama marched down the beach from the park, kids in tow. Bachelor and Baby #5 hit the shore some distance along and Bachelor started hearding the straggling kiddie toward its parents. When Mama and Baby spotted each other, they awkwardly ran to each other, as best as geese can run. They were so overjoyed to see each other!

Bachelor continue trudging wearily up the beach, heading for home after an exhausting day of babysitting.

Then Papa suddenly let out a series of honks, spread his wings, rushed Bachelor at lightning speed, and pecked the living snot out of him before turning in a huff and marching the family back to the park. Ungrateful bastard. Bachelor stood dazed at the edge of the water for some time after, feathers ruffled, looking very pitiful and forlorn.

The moral of this story is: No good deed goes unpunished.

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State Of The Trip

Even though I’m in Downieville now, this journal is still at Lake Tahoe. I’m going to be scrambling to catch up on posting, because the Wi-Fi is decent here.

But I am on high Bear Alert here in Downieville. Why? Because I have actually seen bears here before. At night, the bears dig in the dumpster in the parking lot. About three years ago, I went outside and surprised one. It did not matter that the bear was just as surprised as I was or that he ran in the complete opposite direction. That bear was going to eat me, I just knew it. Breathless, I raced inside and launched myself onto the bed where Kim was reading. “OHMYGOD, BEAR! BEAR! BEAR! BEEEAAARRR!!!” By the time he ran outside, the bear was gone, and he didn’t believe there really had been a bear at all. But then a couple of days later, driving home on a winding road, a bear ambled right out in front of our car. Kim slammed on the brakes and started frantically pointing — as if I could not see that there was a huge bear strolling across the road right in front of us — and sputtering in shock, “Muh ma bu woo uh…!” And I calmly looked at him, “Yeah, like I said … BEAR!!!

So when I arrived at the inn this time, I went to the office to ask the innkeeper if it was safe for me to leave any food at all in my car, because I am traveling with several bags of groceries and I’ve heard stories of bears breaking into cars to get to sandwiches and stuff, and I know they have an incredible sense of smell. He said, “Well now that you’ve brought it up, if I didn’t tell you to bring it inside, I’d feel responsible if your car got destroyed.”

So I schlepped all the bags in. Heavy, heavy bags. Paper bags. In the pouring rain. Bags that no longer had handles attached by the time I wrangled them into the room.

But I am happy to report that bears did not peel my car open like a grape in the middle of the night.

Yet.

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Sand Harbor: “Stones”

In happy times and sad times, I have always turned to music. It helps me cope with and make sense of life. Music is also one of the few things that helps me process grief. The primary reason I wanted to start this journal is to chronicle the music that has been comforting me during this dark time. It’s music that has deep meaning for me, whether mirroring my pain in a specific way or sending a message of hope or just reminding me of happy times spent with Kim or Mom. Much of it is poignant, but not all of it is sad.

Whenever possible, I am going to do my best to create original video for these songs. It’s important to me to personalize this experience. If, along the way, they can console even one other person who’s going through a difficult or painful time, I would be so pleased.

Since Kim died, I have listened to “Stones” by Barbarossa more times than I can count. It’s a simple message, but one I desperately needed to hear. The weight of my grief is crushing, devastating, too heavy a burden to bear at times, but in my heart I know that there are still wondrous and beautiful and amazing things out there in the world. And I will find them. I just have to look a little harder now.

Stones that I carry around
Every stone a story that weighs me down

But there is gold hidden by rock and sand
I have to search a little harder now

Sharp as a marble, these stones keep my feet on the ground
All this experience weighs me down

But there is gold hidden by rock and sand
I have to search a little harder now
But there is gold hidden by rock and sand
I have to search a little harder now

(If you like this song, please support the artist by downloading from iTunes. He’s also going to be releasing solo stuff under his name, James Mathé. I’m so sad that I missed him playing in San Francisco last night.)

Posted in Memorial Marker, Music On The Journey, Watch | 3 Comments