Hume Lake

Last night we woke up to more than just Corin’s snuffling, snorting and crying. We had some lighting, thunder, rain and snow. When we woke up there was 2 inches of super dry and powdery snow covering everything. It was so light and dry that I simply swept the stairs, and there was no moisture left behind. I snapped these pics when I came into the office this morning. The maintenance staff does an amazing job of keeping camp clear and accessible. When the snow really starts coming down they’ll have plows running all night.

We’re on week 8 of 12 for Winter Camp. Tonight and tomorrow we’ll have a total of 868 kids coming in via car, suv, van and bus.

It’s cold. Very cold. Below 20 cold. The streams are freezing cold.

I know I’m not the first person to experience such temperatures, and I know that by some standards our current weather would be considered a warm spring day, but in the same way all humans say, “Gee, that stinks” when something stinks, I’m saying, “Gee, it’s cold.” Because it’s cold.

Now that you know it’s cold, I can tell you how I feel about it. It’s quite fun actually. I put the lining back inside my leather jacket, and my REI socks do more than simply make me feel outdoorsy.

As the seasons change here at Hume Lake, so do the ways in which I risk my life. Away go the motorcycles and mountain bikes, and out come the Samurais and broom hockey gear. I’ll have to capture some broom hockey footage for those of you who’ve never seen it. It’s pretty interesting. I almost shattered both kneecaps by sliding into the wall, but apparently I’ve been drinking my fair share of milk at the dining hall and all my bones remained intact. It’s not an inherently dangerous game, it’s just that I’m competitive–often to the point of injury. We’ve played some amazingly fun games of whiffle ball, two-hand touch football, broom hockey and paint ball. I think all games are more fun when played at an altitude of 5200 with a bunch of youth camp leads. Those guys know how to have fun.

I went to breakfast at 6:45 this morning, and the ground was quickly becoming covered in hail. I think it’s fair to say this is Hume Lake’s first snow of the season.

View the webcam for more!

Update: More Snow…

These two pictures are a view of Hume Lake as seen from the “Long Meadow to Huckleberry Meadow” trail. The point of view is looking from west to east, with the dam being at the farthest visible edge of the lake. The distance between the two meadows is only about 2 miles, but I’m guessing it’s a gain of over 1000 feet elevation.

The first time I ascended this trail I had set out looking for new mountain bike trails. While portions of the trail were technically rideable, I mostly pushed and sometimes carried my bike. Once I reached Huckleberry, I followed a fire road back to Hume which provided me with an enjoyable 6 mile downhill ride.

The second time I ventured up this trail I brought my wife and my camera. These two proved to be much more enjoyable companions than my bike.

Edit: Removed damn typo. Thanks dad!

Elisa and I arrived at Hume on March 13th after a pleasant 1200 mile trip around Southern California. We started off from Lakeside and proceeded to Palm Desert, La Crescenta, Los Gatos, and Sacremento. Each stop went by quicker than the last until we found ourselves pulling into our own driveway for the first time together.

The house was just as I had left it — packed full of boxes. Elisa made quick work of unpacking and before two days had passed we were quite comfortable in our new home. The next few days consisted of a flurry of names and faces as we met our new neighbors, friends and coworkers — all of whom are exceedingly friendly and generous.

I started work on March 19th and immediately fell in love with my commute. It’s approximately 3/4 of a mile door to door. Not bad. Not bad at all. Not to mention the road is surrounded by evergreen trees.

Last weekend I squeezed in a 9 mile mountain bike trek (jaunt for you, trek for me), 40 mile dirt bike romp, and a 30 foot rock climb. Knowing I’ll be able to do that any weekend during the summer makes me giddy. Heck, just breathing up here makes me giddy.

Elisa is keeping busy with a myriad plethora of new friends and hobbies. In between playing guitar and cello at home she’s playing one of the four pianos around camp and listening in on recording sessions at the new studio. She’s also halfway through creating her first quilt and is already introducing me to new people. She is of course continuing to hone her espresso skills by serving up more lattes and cappuccinos than the Hume’N'Beans (the local coffee shop).

This week we’re experiencing the tail end of winter. During the last 24 hours four inches of wonderfully powdery snow has fallen and with temperatures predicted to drop well below 30 it will most likely stick around for a few days, which is fine with us.

Elisa and I are grateful to all of you for your parting gifts and words of wisdom.

Here’s a few pictures of our new home at Hume

The following two excerpts speak for themselves. Actually, they speak for me.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

Philippians 4:12-13

Tell me what you will of the benefactions of city civilization, of the sweet security of streets — all as part of the natural upgrowth of man towards high destiny we hear so much of. I know that our bodies were made to thrive only in pure air, and the scenes in which pure air is found. If the death exhalations that brood the broads towns in which we so fondly compact ourselves were made visible, we should flee as from a plague. All are more or less sick; there is not a perfectly sane man in San Francisco.

Go now and then for fresh life if most of humanity must go through this town stage of development - just as divers hold their breath and come ever and anon to the surface to breathe…Go whether or not you have faith… Form parties, if you must be social, to go to the snow-flower in winter, to sunflower in summer… anyway, go up and away for life; be fleet!

I know some will heed the warning. Most will not, so full of pagan slavery is the boasted freedom of the town, and those who need rest and clean snow and sky the most will be the last to move.

Once I was let down into a deep well into which choke-damp had settled, and nearly lost my life. the deeper I was immersed in the invisible poison, the less capable I became of willing measure of escape from it. And in just this Condition are those who toil or dawdle or dissipate in crowded towns, in the sinks of commerce or pleasure

When I first come down to the city from my mountain home, I began to wither, and wish instinctively for the vital woods and high sky. Yet I lingered month after month, plodding at “duty.” At length I chanced to see a lovely goldenrod in bloom in a weedy spot alongside one of the less frequented sidewalks there. Suddenly I was aware of the ending of summer and fled. Then, once away, I saw how shrunken and lean I was, and how glad I was I had gone…

Excerpted from The Story of My Boyhood and Youth by John Muir. Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1913