Jack London Park - Glen Ellen

The Photograph

The Story

I've been wanting for a few years to go back to a place I remembered from childhood. A place that helped spark my love of all things ancient and ruined; a ruin itself, an American castle in disrepair. The place? The burned out husk of Jack London's "Wolf House". Named so for his own moniker, built in 1913, and inexplicably incinerated a mere month before he and his wife were to move in. With the sturdy stone walls still standing, He vowed to rebuild their dream home, only to die himself before he could keep his promise.

On a school field trip with my brother's class, we visited this park when I was 11 ( I think). Somewhere there's a picture of me leaning on the fence of this dead man's dream, wearing a far-away gaze and a beret. The gaze remains, the beret I left in the 80's...

Side note: My husband looked up the park recently when I brought it up as a nearby get away idea. He found that it is slated, along with 2 other State parks in it's county, for closure in July 2012 due to lack of funds. Days later, we received a Living Social email offering tickets to a concert called "Broadway Under the Stars", an event aimed at gathering support and hopefully generating funds to keep the park open long into the future. We came early so I could romp around the grounds, exploring the cottage London did much of his writing in, the Museum housing artifacts London retrieved from the far flung corners of the world, the roofless winery relics, the vineyards themselves, and of course Wolf House.

We picnicked on gourmet food truck fare, listened to a violinist in the background as we chatted with the performers, and some locals; like an elderly woman who's father worked in London's employ at the turn of the century who brought along a small photo album to show us her tale. At 7 pm, they opened the winery walls to let us find our seats in rows of white folding chairs to await a performance under a shining moon which surpassed our expectations. Really, for me, the show at the end of the day was a cherry on top of the wonderful time I'd already had playing in the forest enclosed ruins of my childhood memories... so, thanks again for a great day Matt :)

Snow Day

The Photograph

The Story

One of the few perks of my husband traveling a fare amount for work is when he travels locally and I can hide out in his hotel til he's done working...

Last week he had to work in Lake Tahoe (shucks) and I re-organized my schedule to force a vacation. I got to meet up with some old friends one day, and take the whole next day all to my lonesome, skiing for the first time in around 12 years. Matt snowboards, so I usually ride with him when we do get a snow day. The weeks weather promised sun and mild temperatures, so although I'd missed the powder, I knew I'd at least get some great groomed runs in. This time I knew I'd be hitting the slopes solo, so I rented demo skis (oooh! fancy!) and hoped that skiing was related to bicycling. As it turns out, it was. Although skis have changed - I went from stick straight 195 K2's to figure 8 shaped 160 Atomic's - skiing has not. I pulled into the parking lot, third row from the slopes, booted up, and remembered how that walking in ski boots is harder than skiing. And that Wednesdays are great for hitting the slopes because it's empty even on a perfect day. I climbed 10 feet from the pavement to the lift, clicked in, and glided the 30 feet to the lift, feeling unexpectedly normal. Half way down my first slope, I felt like I'd never stopped skiing. Which is a little heady. Feeling the mountain under your feet slipping swiftly by, velocity dreading up my hair, wind gradually burning my already ruddy checks... 19 year old me came back in full force, temporarily making me forget that I would no longer recover the same as 19 year old me did.

I picked up a cut-rate lift ticket to Homewood (19 year old shakes head in disapproval - such a little tiny mountain!) when I rented my gear. The cashier advised me not to take that last run. I listened when my legs first started to feel a little wobble around 3:30... I only missed 20 minutes of the end of the day, but the 19 year old version of me would have been very disappointed that I didn't wrench every second of mountain time out of the day. My current self is happy my knees only hurt a little the next few days as opposed to needing the knee surgery 3 out of 4 in my family have had.

Even if I would have only gone up for a few runs, the view alone would have made the rentals and the long drive from South Lake to Homewood worth while. From the summit, you look out over most of the Lake. Past the marina on the west shore, Heavenly is clear as day to the south, I could even see the hotel I knew Matt was conferencing in on the far shore. Everything even smelled good. Mountainy... It was a perfect daycation.