Birthday at the Lake
I don’t have to tell you, do I, that there’s been a whole lot of bad stuff taking place in our country and around the world in recent days and weeks and months.
So much bad stuff that Sharon and I thought it was time to take a break — get away — even if it was just a short trip.
So this past Monday — truly a lovely day in the Valley — we took that break and started driving.
And Monday was more, I must confess, than just a day to “get away” — it was also my birthday.
The trip we took was to a favorite spot around these parts — Ducey’s at the Pines Resort on the shore of Bass Lake in the Sierra.
More on the trip, below. First — that birthday of mine.
They say time flies. And sure enough, this latest birthday had seemed to come really, really soon after my last one.
But when I stopped to figure it out — the last time I celebrated getting a year older was 8,765 hours ago.
That seems like a lot, doesn’t it? And there’s another number that really stands out. I’ve now been alive about 666,200 hours — or 27,759 days. Give or take.
No, I do not intend this to be a math exercise. It’s just my way of saying that, brother, I’ve been around a long time — and it only SEEMS like time is going faster now than it did when I was younger.
The day before my last birthday — that was 8,789 hours ago — Sharon and I were in the San Francisco Bay Area for the wedding of our daughter Amy and our now son-in-law, Steve (left).
And the day after that unforgettable Saturday afternoon ceremony — we drove back to the Valley to celebrate my birthday with a fine lunch at the great Harris Ranch.
Between then and now — we’ve been more than a little busy.
We sold our home at Tesoro Viejo in Madera County and moved into the condo we had spent a year renovating in the Fig Garden neighborhood of northwest Fresno.
We said good-bye, for now, to Amy and Steve — who moved to Copenhagen.
We saw Bradley Nicole at Christmastime in the “new” condo (right). They were visiting from their home in New Orleans.
Before that, the Madera County Museum — where I volunteer — won awards in the Best of Central California contest as “Best Museum” and “Best Place to Volunteer” and “Best Attraction.” Winning that took a whole lot of work and energy, and all of 
us who took part in that contest are forever grateful to the thousands of folks who voted for us.
In addition, the North Fork History Group — of which I am a member — took us on several Sierra field trips to historic powerhouses and ranch sites and other places.
And in a trip unrelated to the History Group, I was proud to help spruce up the deteriorated sign at the site of Stewart Edward White’s almost-gone cabin above North Fork (right).
Mr. White had written a best-selling book about building and living in that cabin in the early 1900’s, and my dad had told me about visiting that site when he was a young man.
After all that, there we were, this past Monday — Sharon and I, driving out of the Valley up Highway 41 into the eastern Madera County foothills and mountains.
We drove through Coarsegold and past the imposing Chukchansi Casino above it — and motored over Deadwood Pass and down into Oakhurst.
That worthy community — at an elevation of 2,300 feet — has about 6,000 residents. It’s a stop for travelers heading up the 41 into Yosemite, and as such, it’s made itself into a tourist mecca of sorts.
There are plenty of motels and fast-food opportunities, along with the quite-nice Fresno Flats Historical Park (in the beginning, Oakhurst was known as Fresno Flats).
We stopped at none of these sites — instead turning onto Road 222 and then Road 274 toward Bass Lake and the Pines and Ducey’s.
The Pines is 17 miles from Yosemite’s southern entrance, and it’s the only lakeside resort near the park. It’s been around in one form or another for nearly 100 years, and it seems as if everyone knows about it and its restaurant.
We sat on Ducey’s deck overlooking the lake. It was a great place to spend the day.
After we ordered (and no, the much-talked-about “Big Arch” was not an option because, as you may know, it’s the newest hamburger offering from McDonalds, and we were definitely not at McDonalds), we talked about all the places where we’ve spent our birthdays over the past 51 years of our marriage.
At least, we talked about the places we could remember, because we’ve lived in lots of places and traveled overseas quite a bit.
And while we were talking and eating, our excellent server — Mara — who had somehow found out it was my birthday — brought us a birthday “special” — a slice of bread pudding with a single candle on top.
The breeze had come up by then — so she could not keep the candle lit. No matter. It was delicious, and it was ” on the house.”
Thank you, Mara.
And because Mara had mentioned my birthday when she brought the pudding, everyone at nearby tables on the deck heard it.
So when we got up to leave, everyone wished me a happy birthday. Every. Single. Person. It was unexpected, and it was, to say the least, nice.
We walked through the restaurant to get back outside and went down to the lake for a photo. It was 76 degrees.
Then we drove through North Fork on our way back to the Valley. When we hit the Valley floor, it was 87 degrees. Amazing.
This, with four days still to go until spring — and with much of the Midwest and East suffering from below-freezing temperatures.
It was, simply, a delightful day.
Now, for this “one year older” thing.
Some misguided souls yammer about how folks my age are living through our “golden” years. Nonsense.
My “golden” years were three decades ago, when I was in my mid-40’s, when I was at the height of my professional career, and when we had two young children.
No, these are not golden years — they’re olden years. There’s a big, big difference.
I can’t do anything about that, of course, except to keep on keepin’ on.
And that’s what we were doing this past Monday.
I hope, of course, there are many more such days in Sharon and my future. For one thing, I’m an old reporter and producer, and as I wrote at the top, there are plenty of things going on in this world of ours.
I’m curious to see how they turn out.
And, yes, I’m also interested in tasting that new “Big Arch” creation.
I hope to get to it before another 8,765 hours pass.