Flashback

I imagine we've all had days when we wished we were someplace else. You know, a familiar song will give you a flashback or a day dream will transport you to a place where you had a much more pleasant time than the one you are experiencing. No, I don't mean a chemically induced flashback either. I'm talking about when your mind goes into self-protect mode to either avoid choking the stuffing out of someone or to avoid a total meltdown. I think a healthy mind will transport you to that perfect moment in time, a welcome, gratifying, pleasant respite from the insufferable circumstance we're involved in.

I've been experiencing this more and more lately. This week in particular while doing battle with some abhorrent drivers on the local freeways along with 20,000 of my closest friends, I was taken back by a song on the CD to more pleasant memories of vacations spent with the family. We spent a lot of time in the Mammoth Lakes region of California. While I sometimes wish we'd explored a few other places, Mammoth Lakes will always hold a special place in my heart. It has everything I desired in a vacation spot. Mountains, lakes, rivers, streams, trees, wildlife, wildflowers, fishing, fishing and more fishing. I guess you could say I have it bad; Fishing pox that is. There are also high class resorts, nice restaurants, and for those who just can't leave civilization behind no matter what, shopping and Starbucks. It also has many beautiful vistas, a National Park (Yosemite), a National Monument (Devil's Post Pile) and for the occasional Tim Allen-ish mishaps, a good hospital.

We started out camping with a borrowed tent trailer. After a couple of years, we were able to buy a very used tent trailer. Mom & Dad got the tent trailer, the girls got to "room" in the 10x14 canvas tent. I never will forget some of the night time thunderstorms we were enraptured by. Of course the youngest of our party was not enraptured. She was scared to death. Oh what fun we had camping in that trailer at Twin Lakes and Cold Water campgrounds. We moved up to the fifth wheel trailer, which is palatial compared to the tent trailer and tent we had. Now it seems our taste has moved into the condo stage. I don't know how often we'll be able to go anymore but, I still look forward to every trip. We had many a hike with the kids, some fishing, a multitude of wonderful memories and photographs of God's beautiful creation. There was even the "Great Bear Scare" at Cold Water. Maybe I'll write about that in the future, it's worthy of a post all by itself.

I will share this bear story with you. I remember a big old bear the locals had named Hemorrhoid. The moniker given to him was a very accurate description of the Bear's abilities and demeanor. There wasn't a car, ice chest, dumpster or walk-in reefer made that Hemorrhoid couldn't break into. Hemorrhoid was a big old cinnamon colored black bear with a nonchalance air that would rival Tex Avery's Droopy. He resembled the bear in the "Great Outdoors" only he wasn't bald on top or on the bottom. I was float tubing middle Twin when I heard a lot of noise from shore. People yelling, pots banging around and such. A few minutes later I saw Hemorrhoid lumbering off towards the northern shore licking his chops of some unknown delicacy. I later discovered it was probably potato chips. When I got out of the lake, I found out which campsite had been raided. Some idiot campers had left their huge ice chest out with the rest of their food sitting on the picnic table while they strolled leisurely around the campground. As they came around a bend in the road heading back to their idyllic campsite, they saw good old Hemorrhoid. The accidental discovery of good old Hemorrhoid enjoying a feast of epic proportions at their expense was almost more than they could ahem, pun intended, bear. Hence the hysterical yelling and raucous noise of pots and pans being murdered by their owners. I couldn't help chiding them a little. The signs are all over the place about the bears. Some people just think it never does apply to them. They're what we call "special." Oh well, 300 bucks later to replace the ice chest and the cost of the food I guess they learned that the signs are there for the "special" people too.

I hope our girls have some wonderful memories of camping in Mammoth. I know Tammy and I sure do. I would not trade the days spent in that pursuit for anything. All the bug bites, scrapes, sunburn, sprained ankles, automotive failures, floods and old age won't keep me away from a place I love. My point is this gentle readers, love your family enough to give a little. There will be another day for sports, TV, work, or the computer. Make the memories while you can. Photograph them, experience them to the fullest, treasure them with all your heart. Then you will have something to day dream about when you're a California freeway commuting victim. When the boss is yammering about how you did a good job but (insert some inane statement here) you'll have that precious picture in your mind's eye. Otherwise, the days will slip by into the oblivion of day-to-day existence and what could have been will never be. And that is a tragedy of the highest order.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

Until next time,
Fred

OLD GUYS RULE!