The only thing we have spotted of the bear

The wonderful Nevada trip was over and we found ourselves at home with a heap of stuff and dirty laundry. And with two weeks for sorting things out and repacking for another trip, this time to Lassen. Sid took Friday off, we drove out in the morning, had lunch in Fairfax, passed through the park and began looking for a place to camp in the nearby National Forest. We got lost a little, found bear tracks and eventually a rather nice place for two tents and two cars. Got ourselves some sandwiches at Hat Creek Station deli. The locals told us that bears were taking it easy this year, for snow had melted early in the spring and the fuzzies have been having plenty of food. Currently, manzanita berries were getting ripe, so they would feast on them and keep people on their own. We met with Kubacki's at seven thirty; dragged them to our spot and built tents in the dark.

A view from a trail to Bumpass Hell

In the morning we talked Gabina out of spreading pate on bread as a hiking snack (still -- there were bears in the vicinity and who knows if the spread would not smell better than bitter wild berries). On our way to Bumpass Hell I tried to appeal to our children, explaining that in a geothermal area they must stay on marked paths. I underscored it with a story of Mr. Henry Bumpass, who crashed through a thin volcanic crust into a boiling hot pool and in the end had to have his leg amputated. Tommy asked how come the water there was so hot and whether it was new water or old water. Hence I had to add explanation about volcanic activity and circulation of water in the nature. All this about five times over.

The kids departed on the trail with their usual verve -- they actually managed to run ahead of Kubackis for the first half hour. Who are we to slow our children down, when they were so eager for a hike. Tommy stays being a train engine, which sometimes invokes sympathetic looks among fellow hikers. He holds one hand twisted behind his back as a coupling for train cars, looking like a little cripple.

Bumpass Hell Panorama

The very Bumpass Hell got a nice surprise for us -- they had fixed a part of the path we had not visited two years ago. At the turning point, the kids requested a small snack, and quickly ran back again. We stopped for another snack at a lookout -- when we reckoned that explorers' zeal faded into whining -- a clear sign that our little engine was running out of steam.

The Kubackis pushed ahead, having planned an ascend to Lassen Peak. We moved along in at a more leisurely pace. Tom started talking with a friendly family going in the opposite direction -- grandma, grandpa, parents and a small boy. I was amazed how he could present them with a consistent lecture about the geology and history of the place, in ENGLISH. We had told him everything in CZECH.

Kids in Bumpass Hell

Unexpectedly, Kubackis still milled about at the parking lot. Gabka rumbled that she had a headache and that they were postponing Lassen Peak till Sunday. They had chosen a shorter hike around Kings Creek; we had been to that place two years ago, and so we left the park towards north -- for in the morning at a parking lot near the entrance of the park, a jovial old man raved about a waterfall, and we thought tossing rocks into a river being a good program for a hot afternoon.

The journey seemed endless, but we finally found Burney Falls. The waterfall is 120 feet (about 40 meters) high and is very impressive. Water stays at fifty degrees (10°C) for the whole year -- and it was pleasantly cooling the canyon. We made a loop around a part of the river, with the falls at the center. Kids loved to ran across bridges and -- of course -- toss rocks into the stream. The small town Burney surprised us. We had been to Lassen NP several times, but somehow we never found anything nearby before that could be regarded our civilization base. Burney is on a good way to become just that -- they even have a CHINESE restaurant. Two gas stations, a few motels, and a regular grocery store. Hooray!

This year we got all the way to the far end pool at Bumpass Hell

Pleasantly refreshed and fed (while I don't pine for Chinese cuisine as much, after two days of sandwiches I was incessantly grateful for it), we rushed to be in time to meet Kubackis. Kids played around the campground; as far as I noticed, they dug a hole in the woods and got awfully filthy. Thus the day ended successfully.

Radim announced another change in plans in the morning -- Gabina and Luke were allegedly not feeling well, and they would not hike with him up on Lassen Peak. We unfurled more seats in our bus, loaded Gabka and Luke, and took them to a waffle with strawberries and whipped cream breakfast, which we got promised on Friday at Hat Creek. It had thrown the locals out of balance a bit -- they had prepared a stack of three waffles for the Sunday morning rush, and we ordered five! They worked it out, though, and we stuffed ourselves to the edge of bursting.

Tom back on a rock (this time WITHOUT having to sew his head).

We had located a nearby cave (another smart advice of the jovial old man), distributed flashlights among the children, Sid grabbed a camp lantern, and we went in. Subway Cave is a lava tube -- in layman term, lava flows through the country, begins to cool off at the surface, and still hot and liquid insides pour out half way, leaving behind a tube made of rock with a flat floor, which really reminds of a subway tunnel. Our Thomas the engine was happy as can be -- finally a good use for his headlamp, and how his whistling carried in the tunnel!!! I think that even six years older Luke had enjoyed it (perhaps more than a hike on a ten thousand feet high mountain).

Meadows in bloom attracted our kids, for they could watch honey- and bumblebees there,

Returning back to Lassen NP, we were supposed to drop Gabka and Luke off at about three o'clock in a pass under Lassen Peak. We had plenty of time, and so we opted for a picnic near Manzanita Lake. Following a path around this beautiful lake, the weather soon convinced Gabka and the kids to splash in the crystal clear water. I immersed myself only up to my knees and had enough: my Hippo simply collapsed in a shade (he usually screams when the temperature of our back yard pool drops below eighty degrees; a mountain lake is really not for him). In the end our little lakeside walk turned into a regular hike; we fit in a picnic and forest-bound bowel movements of all three kids, having arrived to our meeting spot with Radim only slightly late. Radim looked satisfied, and so perhaps he had enjoyed his athletic performance just as we did our waffles, cave, and lake fun. Having disgorged our passengers, we sped home.

There were only a few last weeks ahead of us that still included the option of using our granny. I had decided to check out yoga offerings in the neighborhood to have some reference for the time when granny would be gone. Yoga is included in the price of our membership at the climbing gym -- but at hours that I cannot fit in. I'm quite useless at six fifteen a.m. and by half past seven p.m., Hippo is still not back from work (not to speak of me being packed and having driven to the class 25 miles from home). My girl friend suggested bikram yoga -- the gym is about fifteen minutes from home (eleven minutes from kids' pre-school) and they offer late morning and noon-time sessions -- and their price is relatively bearable.

Burney Falls

The only unknown variable of this yoga is the temperature -- you exercise at hundred and four degrees (40°C). I was telling myself that since I like sauna, this would be fun. Apparently I had not chosen my first test class best -- at six thirty in the evening the room got so packed that space between individual mats was about two inches. I don't enjoy crowds and I'm claustrophobic. Moreover, the trainer did not sit well with me -- somehow I don't suffer well these aerobic types of cheerful blondes.

Kids' favorite fun: stop at a creek.

Still I had pre-paid nine more days, and I tried mornings. The room was relatively full, but without somebody else splashing sweat on my mat; a more quiet trainer. And my body had perhaps gotten used to the heat and stopped panicking and signaling me that I would surely suffocate in the next minute. I had subsequently bought a ten session ticket. The heat goes well with my aging bones (and my injured shoulder, which has been troubling me for last twelve years), and I get to stretch my stiffening spine and muscles shortened from climbing. I had been climbing some more lately, but that shall recede again with granny's departure. My advances are visible, though, and that pleases me.

We stayed at home for Memorial Day weekend (a three day weekend early in September). We were recovering a little from our trips. On Monday (holiday) we left the kids in granny's care and went to climb with Radim and Luke (Gabka refused to scramble up the wall and suffered on the gym machines instead). Then came a problem with lunch -- everybody's closed on a holiday. Eventually we had found an open Vietnamese restaurant (Pho Binh), but they only do soups. I find it easier to order things in Vietnamese -- first, it is faster to pronounce "pho ga" than its complicated English translation of chicken broth soup with noodles, and the service is often wrestling with English begin a foreign language for them. Gabina was rumbling that she did not want soup and Sid suddenly remembered how to say a heap of noodles with meat without soup -- "bún", loosely pronounced boon. Our server seemed flattered by our expertise and arranged for this specialty even though it was not on their menu.

A lava tube really looks a little like a subway tunnel (Subway Cave)

Invigorated, we all proceeded to a shooting range. Luke is (as appropriate to his age) very interested in various shootings, and we imagined it interesting for him to try the real thing. I think he got rather shocked by the noise -- besides earplugs he eventually donned extra earmuffs. We also hope that he understood that real shooting is a serious affair. I'm quite curious about this phase with Tom. He has already begun to ask me various questions and soaks up my answers like a sponge. (And he stores and repeats them in unexpected moments -- e.g. to a startled visitor -- having learned about the life of insects, with daddy ladybug crawls atop mommy ladybug and then they have eggs -- baby ladybugs). Well, I shall rather explain to my children all the various natural functions, climatic seasons, and eventually about weapons, than letting them figure it out laboriously (and often dangerously) with the help of their peers.

Public splashing in Manzanita Lake

Tom has been signed up for daily attendance of his pre-school as of September. I tried to explain to him -- he has become a big boy now and big boys go to school every day (I pointed to his great icon, Lucas, who also goes to school every day). Tommy responded with a casual nod, for it is so (that he is a big boy now and shall attend school). Still we worried about him making a scene on this first day. I was not quite certain whether Tom would be the one to throw a tantrum (for not wanting to go), or Lisa (for WANTING to go with her brother -- as Lizzy continues in her two days a week). Yet the kids seem to be content with the situation. Tom enjoys his new junior kindergarten class full of beautiful things (a globe, an hourglass etc.) -- he has been always interested in how things work, and has better use for an encyclopedia than a fairy tale book, hence such school is a veritable paradise for him. Lisa is happy that she can hoard mommy for three days in a week without pesky presence of Tom.

Manzanita Lake - Lassen Peak behind

It means a bit more complicated logistics for us -- but three times a week Sid takes Tom to school on his way to work, and me and Lisa stay at home with our house chores, or shop and have similar fun, before we go together pick Tom up. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, when both children attend, I take them in our bus (which has two child seats), and continue to my yoga from school, or meet with Sid at the climbing gym -- or run errands.

I should mention the car seat. Tom's old one got moved to Sid's car. He got a new seat for the bus -- for trips and frequent rides. Naturally, his stingy mother had bought the one that was currently on sale. Only back at home I noticed it had integrated reading lights. Yet Tom said right at school (where he has seen it for the first time), "Gee -- a light... and does not turn on... maybe it needs batteries, do we have some batteries?" An that was it -- Tom simply figures out things the first time. I had no choice but to ceremonially install batteries and we now own an illuminated car seat. We haven't taken it for a ride yet -- but I worry that Lisa may require similar comfort.