Last night I got back from an exciting weekend in Tahoe. It’s too hard to tell what happened in the correct order, so here’s a quick highlight reel:

Snowboarding
Shortly after I arrived, Stephen loaded up his SUV with a couple snowboards and drove deep into the mountains. The mountains of Tahoe are crisp and Alpine looking. Regardless of how far the mountain may be in the distance, you feel like you could pull your fingers across it’s face and feel the texture of the boulders.

It must’ve been a two-hour drive to the snowboarding site, but it was so beautiful that it didn’t really matter. I was enjoying catching up with my high school buddy, sharing adventures of traveling and dramas with the ladies. We bounced up a rocky road for twenty minutes and then finally came to our destination—an icy patch of snow left over from five months before. This is a coveted playground for the local snowboarders, complete with rails and ramps. I couldn’t believe that there was still snow in August.

Ten seconds after we got out of the car, a thunder storm started churning above us. We were at 10,000 feet, so the storm was right on top of us. We hopped back in the car as the hail started to fall. Lightning and thunder shook the mountainside. Then the rain came, forming creeks that ran down the mountainside. The storm showed now sign of blowing over, so we decided to head back before the road washed out. Twenty minutes later, we were driving past sun-washed grass fields.

Mountain Biking, Hiking, Swimming
Stephen and I hopped on our bikes and road ten miles to the foot of a trail. The scenery from the ride was fantastic. It wasn’t so much the dramatic views that got me, it was the shade from the towering pines. Arizona trees are more like low-lying shrubs than anything. But these pines were six feet thick and soared a couple hundred feet into the sky.

It was sad that even in a remote area we had to fuss over locking up our bikes. It took ten minute; to find a tree thin enough to wrap the chain around. We forgot about the delay once after just a few minutes on the trail. This was a popular trail, which means you meet plenty of strangers along the way.

As a Christian, I always feel obligated to be warm to strangers. But hikers are a strange breed of overly friendly people. I guess there’s camaraderie that comes from loving the outdoors, but it seems a little put on. I mean, do real hikers all buy their stuff from REI? Is the tie-die accessory necessary to being a real hiker? It’s not worth sorting out, because it’ll just get in the way of making my point. And my point is that I ignored most of the people we passed because I just wanted to go on a hike with my friend. I didn’t want to agree with a stranger that the mountains are beautiful or marvel at the tiniest creatures.

After about an hour and a half we found the lake we were looking for. Where I’m from, lakes are just big puddles in between mountains. But here this lake was caught in the side of the mountain. It was the size of a football field and perfectly cool and clear. The clarity of the water is normally makes a lake inviting, but here all I could see was the wreckage of trees on the lake floor. I was hot and the water looked good, so I ignored warning and stripped down to my boxers. I slide into the water and rolled onto my back to avoid walking on the muddy logs. I paddled to the center of the lake and laid motionless, looking up at the patches of snow still on the side of the mountain above me. That was one of my top five swims of all time.

Jessco White, Dancing Outlaw
Saturday night was a celebration of our redneck heritage. We always watch this bizarre documentary of a redneck dancer from West Virginia called Jessco White, Dancing Outlaw. It would take pages to describe the oddity of this guy’s life. I didn’t know a low-budget documentary could be that fascinating. I thought that three years ago when I first saw it, and I’ve said it ever since. The guys got tired and went to bed. I slept on the floor of the living room, so I opted to keep watching the movie. It was a strange way to end a day. The next morning the three of us wen to Mass. The familiarity of the Mass balanced-out the weird feeling that stuck with me from the night before

Car Show, Swimming down the River
We left Tahoe early on Sunday to venture into Reno to catch the last day of one of the country’s biggest car shows: Hot August Nights. But we were too late. The show had gone on for a week or so, and most of the 10,000 cars left the city that morning. But there were a couple stragglers that gathered in the dismal parking lots in front of casinos. We enjoyed looking at all the cars, but it became so hot that I thought I was going to die.

So we crossed over town to a section of the river that has been altered to be a playground for water sports. I guess Reno is trying to shake it’s inferiority complex to Tahoe and market itself as a nature lovers casino town, or something. So tax money poured into re-routing the river to make it fun for swimming, sliding, kayaking, and tubing. Luckily we all were wearing shorts, and we took turns jumping into the river.

It was a bizarre twist in the day. I expected to see slick cars for city people and ended up playing in a river for the afternoon. It was awesome. We climbed out of the river and explored the city, dripping wet. We discovered a river-side coffee shop in a historic, loft-looking brick building. Looking at the front of the coffee shop you would think you were in New York. But no, you were standing next to a river in a little gambling town.

Loving Candyce to Death
It’s always lonely to arrive in your home city without anyone there to welcome you. It’s impractical, I know. That’s why I usually drive myself and leave my car in the budget parking lot. I waited 45 minutes for the shuttle van to take me to the parking lot. Once I hopped out, I felt like I was the only person still awake in San Diego. It was quiet, dark, and a little spooky.

I got home last night and Candyce was there to welcome me. I love her so much. I love my friends too. I’m happy to see the men that the three of us have become. I’ll be friends with Stephen and Benny for the rest of my life.