Garages, boats, trees and sailing

We may actually have a garage before the snow flies!

Camp Connell, CA - It's been a busy week here at Camp Connell, our home town.

The weather -- always a topic of talk down at the general store -- has ranged from scorching hot (90s in the mountains is NOT acceptable) to downright chilly (high 30s this morning).
As we like to point out, it is always much worse down the hill. Hotter (0ver 100) and colder (somewhere north), and windier too.

The never-ending garage construction project hit a milestone, hopefully not a plateau, as the trusses for the roof arrived Monday and were completely installed by Wednesday. Brad the contractor has been working alone because his helper/son ran off to the Bay Area to be near his girl friend.
It was highly entertaining and edifying to watch Brad balance on a two-by-four and juggle the large and heavy trusses into place. It's too complicated to describe with accuracy, but he used leverage, a piece of climbing rope, a level and chalk line, and ingenuity to get everything nailed solidly into place.
Brad at work on the roof

You may recall the project was caught last Fall by early and heavy snow, and was buried for five months.
Next step: finish the siding.

Fire-safing the property around the house is a never-ending job, particularly as we move into the hottest and driest part of the summer. We do live in a wilderness interface, a fancy term that means we are definitely in the woods.
This week I hired a local company to come in and "high limb" 12 large trees close to the house. That means that Arturo, my amigo who works for my poker-playing friend Dave, showed up this morning with a very large dump truck, the longest pole saw I have ever seen, and other assorted tools. My job, to keep the cost down, was to be the safety spotter, hold the ladder, and yell "LOOK OUT!" when a large limb started to fall on a head. Problem for Arturo: my Spanish is not great and so while I am trying to figure out how to say "DUCK!" in Spanish, the limbs have already bounced off the nearest hard surface.
Holding a three-section pole saw above your head for hours was a back-breaking job, but he has a cheerful disposition and strong arms, helped along by the fact he heads home this week for his daughter's quinciniera celebration. Mucho dinero is required, he told me with a father's accepting smile.
Arturo at the end of a long day

We both made it through the day safely. I managed to cut down several small trees, stack some future firewood, and break my chain saw for the umpteenth time.
For those friends who might worry about my tree-hugger credentials when I mention cutting down trees, be aware that our property is not a natural forest. It has become an overgrown thicket ever since the natives were chased out 150 years ago by gold seekers, and the hope is to restore it to its natural and safer condition.
Instead of letting natural fires burn, which remains a no-no near houses, we mechanically remove the excess trees and brush. The trees go to firewood for next winter, and the brush to the local yard waste collection station (just up the hill) where it is turned into high-priced mulch for city dwellers.
That's what sustainable culture is about up here at altitude.

Educational efforts continue for Pat and me at Calaveras Big Trees State Park, where we are volunteers. Pat spent part of today with a group of rangers and resource experts learning how to teach sixth-graders how to manage forest resources. Since the forest in parts of the park has not been allowed to burn for generations, the rangers now teach kids how to manage the forest back into a natural state. Yes, they do what we call "prescribed burns" but the controls are so tight for safety and air pollution reasons other steps are still required.
Most of today was fun stuff: learning how to core, plotting sections, measuring trees using a compass and geometry, and nipping off some little brushy stuff. Tomorrow Pat will be trained in "Creek Critters" and I will do a trail Patrol in the Sequoia grove.

Recreational moments exist also. This past weekend we took our sailboat Good News across San Francisco Bay, berthed at the South Beach Marina, and went to watch the San Francisco Giants lose another baseball game. We joined a group of members from the Oakland Yacht Club for the weekend, had a little wine, ate well, met some interesting people, and froze to death at AT&T Stadium, formerly known as PacBell Stadium, not to be confused with the stadium known as Candlestick, which is even colder.
We enjoyed two days of good sailing (wind 15-20 knots), didn't break anything, and got home safe.
A good time was had by all.
Our next-door boat on the San Francisco outing was party central. We heard a loud splash in the middle of the night, and learned later one of our wine-filled sailor friends took an unexpected swim in the 45 degree water. He got out very quickly, and had a good story to tell.

Gas prices, Spring, eBay, and good friends...

The news is good here this week in Camp Connell, as it always is, though the economic indicators are somewhat less certain. Here are some items to consider:

-- Gas prices hit $4.05 9/10 this past week at the local general store because the tanker arrived.

It appears that the big oil companies, Chevron in this case, set the price at the pump based on some mysterious formula and tell the local sales folks what to charge. Folks at the store this evening tell me they've seen prices as high at $4.29 in the San Francisco area, and the ski resort up the mountain charges more than our local store.
The price of gas doesn't seem like much of a big deal until you consider a long road trip. It was cheaper for Pat and me to fly to and from Mexico, even adding in the cost of an airport motel, than to drive. Next year we are hoping to go to Alaska, but driving seems a unlikely option.


--Weather report: the snow is melting in our front yard.

-- Today (Friday) was my last ski day of this season. The resort up the hill will be open two more days but we will be busy and it really isn't worth it as conditions are not great. The window for decent skiing is so small now, as the sun turns the icy snow into slush by noon, I'm starting to think about hiking at a lower altitude.
One act of faith: I purchased a season ski pass for next year.


-- Spring is officially here at Camp Connell. We have Crocus blooming, dozens of other bulbs fighting their way up into the sunshine -- some coming through patches of snow.
The other sure sign of Spring is that the work has resumed on the garage we were having built for last winter, but didn't quite make it. The site has been cleared of snow and tree debris, and the inspector came by yesterday and gave the go-ahead for pouring concrete on Monday to finish the slab. Then, if rafters and lumber can be found, the walls should start to go up.


Next week I have to arrange to have the snow tires removed from the Subaru. These are REAL snow tires, not your wimpy East Coast type that can stay on the car all summer.

And baseball season is underway for my 11-year-old granddaughter Delaney.

(UPDATE: The forecast calls for some rain mixed with snow in the middle of the week. No matter. It is still Spring.)



-- We have rented our former home in Sacramento after trying unsuccessfully to sell it for four months. As part of the cleaning out, I have vowed to sell off a bunch of small stuff on eBay. Made my first sale this week: a pair of commemorative drinking glasses with Apollo 13 designs. Sold for $1.29 (shipping was over $8, but the buyer in Iowa paid for that). The buyer sent me an email that said, "Say, are you the same LaMont that used to work for the TODAY newspaper in Florida?" Turns out he read the newspaper as a youth, and has been a space buff ever since.

-- Pat and I are back in school now, training the be docents at Calaveras Big Trees State Park. The park is only two miles away, and has over a thousand Sequoia trees, giant redwoods, big trees or -- if you are British -- wellingtonian.. Technically,they are Sequoiadendron Giganteum, and that's the sort of thing we are learning along with how to deal with drunken and rowdy campers (call the ranger). Should be fun this summer.

-- Coincidence, or not? I had a telephone call from Stan Rodimon this past week. Stan was a classmate at Marion Military Institute from 1957-1960, the school I wrote about recently, and then at the University of Alabama where we both graduated before going off into the Army and losing track of each other. He and his wife Linda were struggling married students when we last got together 46 years ago. They were good friends and interesting people. They promise to come see us this summer so we can do a bit of catching up. What a treat!