Thursday, July 1 I drove up with my grandparents and their dog Simba.
We stopped at their favorite pie stand along Highway 120, at Jack Tone Road. My grandma bought two frozen cherry pies and a cantaloupe.
My mom and sister surprised everyone by showing up past dark at my aunt's cabin that evening! That night, my cousins and I slept on the deck on cots, under the stars. I woke up to birds chirping and their dog Chester barking. Delightful!
Friday, July 2 My cousins Ben and Nick, my cousin Ryan, his friends and I hiked around Pinecrest Lake, a moderate hike of 4 miles. Ben set a quick pace and we soon lost Ryan and his friends.
It was a great hike that definitely pushed me, which is good since I'm going BACKPACKING July 22 and then again in late August for Wilderness Orientation with UC Santa Cruz! (On another note, I just got my room assignment for Stevenson college! No word on my roommate yet...) We spent the rest of the day at the cabin. I read throughout the day.
Saturday, July 3 My mom, sister PawPrint, and I drove to Pinecrest to get Serene Bean coffee drinks. The Serene Bean is a little coffee stand that sells delicious java and various snacks, like the rice krispy treat I had for breakfast. It's the perfect place for campers, hikers and beachgoers who need their daily coffee treat. We walked to the lake and sat at the beach beyond the marina, where dogs are allowed. My aunt and uncle were on their way with their golden retriever Sierra. I collected some rocks, read Light in August, and then walked down the trail to take some pictures.
On our way out of Pinecrest, we stopped at the Summit Ranger Station (of Stanislaus National Forest). My mom spoke with two gentlemen who were just taking down a banner having to do with wilderness volunteers. I went into the ranger station and found three awesome books about the Miwok and California Native Americans. My sister came in to say that my mom wanted me to meet the two men outside. One of them, Brent, said I should contact Phyllis Ashmead of Interpretation. He said she has two college interns who work there in the summer, putting on programs. He gave me her phone number, and also suggested we think about taking his Leave No Trace class, which was the following weekend (unfortunately we didn't have a chance). We thanked him and went into the store to buy the books I'd found: California Indians and Their Environment (an ethnobotany guide to the California Native Americans), Indian Life of the Yosemite Region by Barrett and Gifford, and a plant use book by Brown Tadd, a local Miwok.
We drove down to Twain Harte to meet my dad and step-mom. My sister and I drove with them to the cabin we were renting, within walking distance to downtown. We unloaded our things, made a trip to the market, and had dinner at The Rock, a restaurant named for the large rock now partially covered by Twain Harte Lake that was once sacred land to the Miwok. A village there was called "Bald Rock," or Hung'ah. The Miwok were the first inhabitants of what is now a quaint vacation town that my family visits every July. After dinner, we walked to Twain Harte Miniature Golf (simply called Pee Wee Golf by my family).
It's so nice to have a tradition like we have with Twain Harte. Pee Wee Golf is so familiar since I've been going there since I was old enough to hold a small golf club. The lake is the same as it's always been, with a few additions to the snack shack every now and then. The town is the same; every year there's a new coffee shop, and every year the previous coffee shop is out of business. (Although hopefully the new Caffe Blossom at the Nest and Nursery will remain open...it's so delightful!) This trip, I definitely learned more about the area in terms of the Native inhabitants. I found many books in different stores that told the story of the Miwok, an often forgotten story that is quite invisible to vacationers in the area. Most people don't realize it is still being written by the current Miwok people who live in the area. There are people throughout Tuolumne and Calaveras counties who silently hold the knowledge of their ancestors' traditions. Some aren't silent, as I will share when I talk about the pine needle basketry class my sister and I took. Every trip to Twain Harte is unique, but it always feels like home when we settle in to whichever cabin we're renting that year.
This post is getting far too long, so I'll stop here. I will share more information about my trip in upcoming posts. Thank you for reading!
"You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves."