Writing from the bar seats in a beautiful timeshare condo in Mammoth Lakes, CA. What a rich, colorful experience this is. Jumping into the family of a good friend of mine; aryan me in an Asian American midst. Our flight landed landed Thursday eve. We were picked up by parents, treated to Hawaiian for dinner, then driven home to pack and hitch the boat and then crash before an early-morning departure on a six-hour drive to Mammoth Lakes.
We were joined on the journey by a close family of friends with three little kids – a joy and a chaos and a family life in a box. Meandered through California mountains and extinguished volcanoes and conservative politics. Arrived at a beautiful condo and town not unlike Big Bear; dropping the boat at a mountain-ringed lake where we fished today. Yesterday we took a couple of Kevin’s (companion family’s patriarch) guns out into the forest to shoot pinecones and enjoy the scenery and teach Josh, his seven-year-old eldest, how to shoot.
The adventures today were long; contemplative; wind-blown. We started out early in the morning on their little boat. We each were able to snag a trout before the midmorning came around and Kevin, Jamie and Company arrived. We switched boat crews and for the next several hours, my friend and I manned several rods baited with night crawlers from the shore. Not a single hit for us (nor for the multi-generation crew on the boat) the rest of the day. Instead we shared trail mix, beef jerky and vulnerable conversation. I got fishing tips and was taught how to gut and clean a trout. I smell like lake and fish and sunbaked skin. Not a bad way to spend consciousness.