In Excellent, Smithers.

In Yosemite, you feel this small.

We did an excellent job with family trips, and I was about to go climbing with Pavel and Vendula in Yosemite. I have to say that I had enjoyed it tremendously. If only just by packing only for myself, or by simply unrolling my mat and a sleeping bag on the ground after arriving at a meadow, without having to worry about anybody's feet getting cold or everybody having brushed their teeth. Pavel boiled water for coffee in the morning — and again — I could sit down and eat my breakfast without having to look for food for the rest of the expedition. I also did not have to plan where we'd be going, what we'd be doing, and how we would get there.

With regard to expected summer crowds on Tuolumne, Pavel had chosen Medlicott Dome, which is after all somewhat more hidden and thus less frequented. This, of course, means a mild uncertainty in access and subsequent walking about with a guide book and wondering where we could actually be. Eventually Pavel tried something that looked climbable, and we actually finished it, but it was much walking and not enough climbing, and we reckoned that we did not find the right spot after all. Later we found Shagadelic, and Vendula climbed with us. And I finally found some FACE climbing in Yosemite. One had to get used to the fact that the tiniest foothold actually hold fast, and then it was OK. Still, by the end I was rather suffering in the heat on a scolding rock, nothing much.

A view from Medlicott Dome.

Cathedral Peak.

A bit farther out Pavel rushed into Excellent, Smithers 5.10a, which Vendula refused to climb right away. My suffering began by trying to stuff my swollen feet into my climbing shoes, with my heels bruised (which normally does not happen). Climbing was noticeably harder and I was glad that I could warm up and get oriented on an easier route earlier. Vendulka and Pavel were taking pictures, fortunately. Since my April trip when my little camera left me for some better time in camera heaven, I've been feeling like missing a hand — I don't feel like dragging the large camera along into the rocks and now I've been reduced to have others take pictures for me!

Before we finished rappelling, packing and hiking down, it got quite cold. We were rather in a hurry to get to the deli at the gas station at the eastern side of Sierra Nevada before it closed. Besides a dinner and beer we were treated to a view to a thunderstorm over Mono Lake. It forced us to not only erect tents by the lake, but even to break out the rain flys — after all I did not feel like getting up at night and deal with rain coming down on my sleeping bag. Still, despite all the cautionary lightning in the evening, we never received any rain and it was again hot in the morning.

One can have a chat during a simultaneous climb.

A view from Cathedral Peak.

We somewhat lowered the temperature by driving up to Tuolumne, but on the way to Cathedral Peak it became clear that it was going to be quite hot anyway. Cathedral Peak was selected with regard to Vendula (who does not climb harder routes), me (who does not hike much), and benefits of bucolic views. They have arrived already on the way up — a creek, little trails, panoramic vistas — and eventually the very Cathedral Peak, a marvelous white cone on a green meadow, 10,940 feet (3,334 m) tall.

I was a bit taken aback by the number of people on the Peak and below; fortunately it seems that this granite cone can be climbed in every direction — it's passable everywhere and offers countless variations. The difficulty of climbing the seven hundred feet to the top is around 5.6, thus easy. Just to illustrate: in the time we had climbed it (and we were relatively brisk, bypassing several groups), we ourselves were passed by three soloist, and we had managed to just barely keep ahead of one climber without a leg. But until almost the top everybody was very friendly and in high spirits — I felt it was natural; with such a beautiful view and great climbing for fun, it somehow seemed self-explanatory.

Tuolomne Meadows — the gray clump on the right is Lembert Dome.

A view to Cathedral Lakes.

Alas, right under the summit we had encountered two ladies, who's characteristic was foremost in not closing their mouths even for a moment, and besides that, they tended to lecture, harass — and be in the way. First, for a relatively long time, they clogged the top, which consists of a granite block a few (six, seven) meters/yards tall, with a plateau barely six by six feet (2x2 m). The ladies climbed up there, and eventually descended, in a complicated fashion (while incessantly giving unsolicited advice and comments to other climbers), simply awful. Fortunately they chose rappelling as their next move and they were still wrapped in their ropes as we simply ran around them — thus we did not have to listen to them for the rest of the way down. Their last advice they bestowed on me was to never take off my climbing shoes — I wanted to loosen the velcro on the plateau and rest my tired feet before Pavel would finish climbing up to us, which one of the ladies managed to notice and engulfed me in a lecture. All that was left was driving home, with a stop for dinner in Oakdale.

Eichorn's Pinnacle.

Patient Pattie.

Kids with daddy went on a biking trip to Santa Cruz and a ride on a train in Vasona. I think they easily cope without mommy. However, mommy cannot be absent when teeth fall out. Tom has apparently been remembering my lecture how imaginary the Easter Bunny is, and how the eggs are being set up by parents; he began to wonder about how substantial is the Tooth Fairy. I think that a great hint has been how our fairy tends to be forgetful and intermittent. You just never know — and so Tom had written the fairy a letter and placed it alongside his tooth under his pillow, but he tasked his father and granny to be sure to mention to me that he has lost another tooth. Just making sure.

Back home, I found my family and a sick Pattie. She was already not doing well before we left for Oregon, but in a week she got worse still. She walked in circles, then became practically paralyzed. She got some special food from the vet, but contracted sinus infection, pneumonia and whatever else. She crawled out of her bed like a seal on a float, snout first. When I took her out, I discovered that she only needed to pee and did not want to mess up her den — and then she wanted to crawl back in. Eventually I had to take her to the vet to be put down. I was feeling miserable about it, after all deciding about somebody's life and death is hard, despite it being just a "silly mouse". I had read that hamsters usually die in their sleep and that they don't get very ill; poor Pattie has chosen the worse option. Kids wept and so did I.

Kids with daddy and granny went biking in Santa Cruz...

...and a trip to Vasona.

For me the worst part was the helpless feeling — all crises with Pattie took place on Monday, and all the clinics specializing in small animals are closed then. It was embarrassing to beg for somebody to have a look at a hamster — I understand that dogs and cats are better business, but sometimes even a hamster needs an urgent care.

The kids also attended another swimming class in July. Tom was assigned to their favorite Christian, and was very happy. Lisa received a hitherto unknown youngster, and first she performed a shy scene, but soon dropped the play. I have an impression that both Lisa and Tom had made great progress — their free style looks proper and not a like a drowning windmill, their breast-stroke are recognizable moves and don't invoke an association with dogs — simply put, it's nice to watch and you can tell what they are trying to accomplish as swimmers. I had offered the children an extension of the class, but they declined — saying it had sufficed. I kind-of understand — this every-day getting up to a specific (albeit popular) activity reminds of school — and that is NOT the purpose of vacations.

Spiderman at Nejedly's party.

Lisa on Foxy.

About one week before Lisa, Nejedly's Eliška has her birthday. Everybody else is in Czechia, and thus the celebration took place in a small circle, just us and some new neighbors from across the street. This time no problem arose from hamburgers, nor anything else. Moreover, Blanka had invited the children for sleepover. I'm not so sure why the word includes any notion of sleeping; kids had apparently tried really hard to do everything else but sleep. Hippo and I got back home around ten and fell asleep probably before the pack did at Nejedly's. I was therefore picking up a bunch of zombies on the next morning, Tom even nodded in the car on the way home — which had not happened for several years now.

Lisa's birthday was a family-only celebration this year. Lisa had wished to select a new dress — apparently at age of seven she no longer trusts mother's impossible picks. She dragged granny into a toy store and I almost got a stroke when I discovered that Lisa asked for whole THREE stuffed animals. Tom lured presents for his birthday (which he won't have for three more months) out of granny, too. I think granny could use an assertivity class; the kids seem to sweep with her quite easily.

Lisa wished sushi.

Lisa with her cake.

Other Lisa's wishes were more about experiences. She wanted to ride Foxy, so I took her up to the ranch and walked the mare with her. Still, a horse is not just about riding it, and so Lisa on her birthday got to dig hors dung. It may not be a celebration for everybody, but I'm glad that our daughter is no princess. And since she wanted to have sushi for lunch, we managed to pick up a (chocolate) cake on the way home, take a shower, and take the whole family eating raw fish. I was worried that Lisa would want to have the presents and cake before lunch, but I was wrong. Lisa was looking forward to her presents and had certainly good time with them — but I think that the more important part was that she was able the plan the day her own way. Nejedlys came visiting in the afternoon, and there was pool swimming and barbecue — and I think that Lisa was rather quite satisfied with her birthday.