Robys in Mammoth/Rock Creek

As mentioned in my last post, my parents and I went to Mammoth for a brief visit at the beginning of August. Our first morning we canoed around Lake Mary in the old blue and white canoe from the lodge. Yes, it still gets occasional use, but it's getting heavier and heavier the older we get, so I'm not sure we'll be using it much longer. This is Rusty, keeping a close watch on the paddles; he was determined to catch one of those darn things.

A few years ago my parents switched to kayaking. So much lighter and easier to transport! I got to test-drive my dad's at Twin Lakes while he stayed on shore. As you can see, Mom is an old pro in hers.

Saturday night the Von Rohr family (3 generations) joined us for dinner at Slocums. Naturally, there was nonstop reminiscing about "the good old days." And it sounds as if Eric and Mark are doing a great job introducing Eric's kids to all the things we used to do together, even rebuilding our forts.

We finally got our dose of Rock Creek on Sunday. With two aging and unpredictable dogs in tow, we decided that a quick jaunt to Serene would be enough (I have carried 30-lb. Rusty down the McGee Creek trail—not fun). Serene is still one of the most vivid places in my memories, but none of us had been there in ages. As expected, nothing has changed; it still lives up to its name...

We circled the lake and then simply enjoyed the tranquility for a while.

Afterward we did a brief cruise of Mosquito Flats and around the lake, then headed to the Lake Store for pie. YUM. We also drove through the lodge grounds and stopped briefly to say hello again to the Von Rohrs. We checked out the changes in Cabin 11. Different, but nice. I was pleased to see a painting by Joe Mancuso on the wall.

Every time I go back it does get easier, but it still wrenches emotions. Every square inch of the grounds and beyond holds so many memories and they all suddenly come rushing back. It's amazing how minute details from 30+ years ago can remain burned so clearly in one's mind.

As we were driving out, I remarked how much the meadow has returned to forest. Remember when it was just open grass, filled with shooting stars?