Snow Mountain in the heart of Mendocino National Forest in Northern California was our chosen camping site for the Labor Day weekend.  We found it on the map so we knew nothing about that area.  The unknown factor excites us.  When we looked at the map, we were attracted by the many camping sites in the area.  But for a variety of reasons, we could only depart on Sunday.  That was OK because we might as well let others go first so that we could avoid the traffic jams on get-away days.  As all the events unfolded that day, we didn't depart Berkeley until 4 on Sunday afternoon.  We could only hope that there would be space available because the sites are operated mostly on "first come first serve" basis.  Nobody took reservation from anybody.  We thought we had plenty of time because on the map, Snow Mountain Wilderness didn't appear too far from where we live.  So we were thinking about two hour plus driving and a plan to have dinner in a nice sunset as the day was warm and the sky exceptionally high.

Things started to change as soon as we got off the highway.  A few miles later, we found ourselves on a dirt road.  Naturally we are spoiled by the ubiquitous modern establishment and convenience.  It didn't even cross our mind that it was mighty arrogant to drive small cars into the wilderness.  However, we had traveled to bigger and more famous wilderness areas before and all the roads were paved so it was not entirely our fault to expect smoothness in the rough and the wild.  The problem is that Mendocino National Forest is too under-cultivated for big city folks.  As a result, we were the only two families who came charging into the mountains in small sedans, as every other person either drives a jeep or a pick-up truck.  All of them were equipped with big wheels.

The dirt road reminds me of the country road which I grew up traveling.  Gravel, dirt, yellow dust.  At one occasion the car must wade through shallow water.  As we got in and out of the forest the next day, It constantly grinded my mind what damage the car would sustain, while praying hard that nothing disastrous would happen on the spot.  That would be quite awkward with the kids aboard in the darkness and all.  Another problem is navigation, for we didn't have a detailed enough map for the area.

However unprepared as it may sound, this was our weekend get-away never the less.  The mind received the magnificent sceneries incredibly well as mountains jumped in to our face with that age-old kindness wrapped up in a silly pretentious severeness.  Some mountains remind me of some old men I have known in my life.  The afternoon air was hot and dry and seemed to vibrate with exploding particles; inhale, the lungs start to simmer; exhale, the nostrils start to light a fire.  But it was thoroughly delicious, like BBQ in a perfect season.  All was calm and serene.  The body felt at ease right at home, souls crave to fly up to the heavens, in such dry early September California heat.  All the pores were open to breathe in and out and feel happy to be alive and able.

However, we or I couldn't stop our minds from constantly wondering at every turn we made: is this the right turn?  We would have to stop and ask other mountaineers.  As we snailed our way deep into the mountains and had no idea where we would be sleeping tonight, I thought about if we get to sleep at all.  Kids were excited, talkative but also hungry and tired.  The sun was setting fast due to the height of the mountains.  The night was to fall upon us soon.

That's when the dirt road rocked our little sedans and the dust shot up in the air.  The wheels didn't stop churning, though.  We couldn't stop.  We had come too far to turn around.  We weren't about to stop and cry, either.  Suddenly we were at a peaceful valley with cows roaming the grassy floor and a few sheds and barns relaxing in the evening sunlight.  The world became surreal, dream-like and infinitely non-threatening.  A few minutes later, however, we were at the waist of a high mountain looking over a deep, deep valley covered with an ocean of pines and redwoods.  Waterfalls are thin, eagles fly low.  Even we had to sleep in the car tonight, it would have been worth the hassle to come here.  The heart seems to be a true worshiper of Mother Nature in her glorious countenance.

As darkness start to approach us like an expanding monster, our natural instinct shot waves after waves of particles up to our mind to reinforce the possibility and fear of what if there was no room at the camping site.  If there wasn't any, we would have had trouble getting out of this labyrinth of trees, hills and valleys.  Still the most worrisome of all was that we weren't too sure that we were heading in the right direction.  Being lost was a much more gruesome situation.  Naturally we were elated to see Letts Lake Camp Ground jump into our windshield.  We got in, and there were more rooms than we needed.  What a terrific relief.

It was a nice camping site.  Trees are giant and tower straight up into the sky .  The evening air was no longer hot but warm and very genial.  The world had become inert.  Children's chatters and dog barks didn't seem to bother that serenity.  Au contraire, the sound of life actually further polished up on the serenity and made it pearl-like or treasurable.

We hurried up to pitch the tents.  And soon dinner was on the table.  Nice picnic tables.  Kids became happy and nerves started to relax.

Since every family had a campfire going on around us, we decided to make one of our own.  The fire place is equipped with BBQ stand.  So my friend and I went into the woods to gather some fire wood.  It was not easy because of the terrain of the valley.  That was when we looked up.  Oh, good heavens, there were so many stars in the heavens above.  I hadn't seen so many bright stars since I was a child growing up in the countryside and sleeping outdoors in the summer. Oh, the Milky Way is still there.  It seems to have become 3 dimensional because I no longer have the same eye-sight of a 10 year old.  Aging eyes create illusions. But illusions can be so beautiful.  The fire was going really well as the wood was extremely dry.  Kids were dancing, so were the adults.  Romance seemed to permeate and ripple afar.

When the fire calmed down and night became still and other families ready to sleep, we sneaked our way to the lake to have a look.  The Bigger Dipper is right over the narrow lake and made a terrific reflection into the pond which was just enough to contain the star formation.  Oh, the North Star is still there faithfully shining, through centuries, through thick and thin, through sweet dreams and nightmares, across continents missed and found.  It was so dark, so quiet and so perfect.  It was a moment that makes one feel that life is not a total waste after all.

The old song says that "sleeping in a cave is so serene."  So serene is sleeping in a tent under a starry night in the middle of a vast pine forest.  Everyone woke up ebullient.  The wild animals and birds must feel the same way, every day.

We walked around the Lake.  The morning sun was so amorous and the water was so green and blue.  Later we swam in the rather cool water.  A refreshing awareness lingered in the body all day long from the touch of the water heavenly.

We had some lunch and wrapped up everything and went to the mountains.  The road was even rougher as we closed in on the peaks.  Craters in the road were huge and bumps monstrous.  The whole scenario made me recall the days when the torrential rain forced truck drivers off their butts to
get their wheels out of the giant craters created by other trucks ahead and the rain.  It was horrible as mud and sweat and rain ran down the face of everyone who volunteered to help.  Our life seemed to always involve our shoulders and the entire weight of the earth ...

So we proceeded delicately and gingerly, no more than 5-10 miles per hour.  Finally were were at the Summit Springs Trailhead which is in a grove of big trees.  Not a soul was there, except many footprints and a registration book full of names.

The trail that leads to the peaks was rather non-challenging so that kids can walk along.  But it was past two in the afternoon and the sun was scorching, even with a nice breeze going softly.  At the end, we drove more than half an hour and walked no more than half an hour and called it quits.  Still it was a nice ascend.  As we climbed about five minutes to hit a bend of the trail, the view seemed to suggest that a horrifying fire raged up and down the hills and valleys some years back as many of the trees were scorched, dark scars still visible.  One truly intriguing phenomenon was that there were many of this one particular kind of tree which has become terrifically dry in the summer.  Not only were all the barks peeled off, the shiny white stems and twigs become bushes which give out a snow-white visage, especially from the distance.  That is right, the Snow Mountain has no snow late in the summer but those trees make it appear as if it had permenant snow on it.  And rattlesnakes.  There was bear warning on the bulletin board but we didn't run into any, luckily.

There wasn't a single soul out there, except us.  We have been to mountains bigger and more famous.  Often we would run into hordes of tourists, mountaineers, cliff-hangers, hikers and horseback riders.  But here, the civilization seemed to have deserted this corner of the world.  That might be part of the reason we quit so easily.  We came to mountains yet feared the loneliness which had a little bit eeriness to it.  So, instead of lingering longer to cleanse our soul which is tormented by the modernity and its invisible thread of dirt and germs, we hopped into the car and rocked along the endless dirt road to go back to where we feel repulsed.

Just opposite to where we came from, this time we went westward to descend to the Clear Lake region.  The idea was to pass through Napa Valley and enjoy its vineyards and sceneries.  But this way the dirt road was almost twice as long as the way we came in.  It took us almost more than one hour just to get out of the hellish dirt and its dustbowls.  We wound around a couple of peaks and waded through a creek.  Finally we hit the paved road.  Never in my life did I feel asphalt was actually heavenly.  I guess I am a stranger to my own self ...

And soon orchards of big pear and apple trees greeted us with magnificent grace.  We stopped to taste some and kept on going.

At Calistoga, we decided to have dinner.  It was 7 o'clock.  Everyone in town was glowing as they came out of their hot springs, mud bathes, massage parlors.  In comparison, we were like cave dwellers with inch thick dirt on our forehead and nostrils.  But it was great fun.  At 9:30, we were in bed at home snoring already.

September 7-8, 1999