Getting Away From it All, All of Us

This past weekend Honey and I escaped to Lake Tahoe, which is northeast of here in some mountains, I believe the Sierras but don't quote me on this. En route, in addition to various In n Out Burgers, is of course the (in)famous Donner Pass where the aforenamed party heading West got caught in a snowstorm and resorted to cannibalism--but after death I think, which is supposed to make us all feel better. Anyway, we were both looking forward to lots of lounging lakeside, swimming, consumption of barbequed items, etc. All of which we did, along with five million other people, their motorboats, JetSkis, poorly behaved children, and barking dogs.

But you know what? If you have a boat, or a pair of Jet Skis then you probably have a ginormous car to tow it. You probably have a garage to park your ginormous car because you sure as hell could not park that Suburban, Escalade, Expedition etc on the street. And chances are good that if you have a garage to keep your car and your Jet Skis and your boat, then you probably have a house. And you probably have a yard. Which means you have your own private green space--maybe even with your own pool. So do me a favor and stay home once in a while on holiday weekends so us city dwellers can enjoy some peace and quiet in Lake Tahoe fer godssake!

Whew. I feel better. Anyway, Honey and I were determined to find a more isolated spot with a swimmable body of water, which we did find. A two mile hike uphill near an area ski resort led to five lakes nestled in a bowl of tress, surrounded by granite boulders. It was incredibly peaceful and gorgeous and just the experience I was hoping for. There were people, but just a few. The kind of folks that are willing to hike two miles uphill on a hot day with toddlers strapped to their backs are generally not ruckus causing folks--and their dogs are better behaved.