Drought-stricken Berryessa

Can a place be a ghost town without actually being a town?

I found Lake Berryessa to have that creepy vibe. Closed-up businesses along the roadside, dry lake beds, terse-spoken store owner and, oh, those squirrels (more on that one later).

Still, there’s a quiet beauty to this lake that lies in the foothills between Napa Valley and Winters. If you’re looking for some alone time, there’s plenty to be had here. Surrounded by dusty hills, dotted with with oak trees and Gray pines, the lake has been hit hard by the ongoing California drought. Whole sections of the lake are now scrubby meadows.

We first stopped at the Turtle Rock store to grab some drinks and munchies for our afternoon at the lake. Inside was a jaw-dropping sight. Money dangled from the ceiling and walls, and most other surfaces. Ones, fives, even one $50 bill that I saw. I took out my cell phone and snapped a few photos.

“You’re taking a lot of pictures. Did you want something?”

The friendly greeting was from a flat-expressioned woman I guessed to be the owner.

“Snacks,” I responded.

She pointed us in the right direction and we loaded up with overpriced items. My advice here? Definitely stop by to view the inside of this place, but beware the owner.

Next was Smittle Creek, which our hiking guide had called one of the best hikes at Berryessa. On a different day, this could be a beautiful hike. July during a drought isn’t the right time.

It was dry, dusty, barren and hot.

Almost immediately, the brush around us started moving. There were squirrels everywhere, scurrying and staring at us. It wasn’t just me who felt, well, a little outnumbered, and watched.

Steady, I told myself, squirrels aren’t carnivorous.

In any case, there was plenty of traditional squirrel food around.

We saw acorns embedded into pines everywhere. At first, we puzzled over this – every pine tree was riddled with holes that were filled with acorns – but later the mystery was solved. Acorn Woodpeckers are the culprits, drilling the holes and then tucking their treats away for later.

 I doubt I'll return soon to Lake Berryessa, but still, there's no better day for me than being outdoors with my family.

My own private Tahoe

Ten minutes on a hot crowded sandy beach was all it took. We pack up and head to the car. Only to quickly return to rent a couple of kayaks. My daughter and I share one; my husband solos in another.

We are instantly cool and happy in our own private Tahoe. While we were told not to venture too far out where jet-skiers and motorboats are zipping across the lake, I don’t feel too limited. Just a few paddle strokes offshore and we had glided out of earshot of the beach.

This is the way to experience the lake.

There’s an amazing clarity to Tahoe’s lake, I’ve learned, because of the its granite rock bed. Apparently algae doesn’t grow much on granite so the murkiness found in other lakes doesn’t occur here. It twists my depth perception as I gaze down at what could be 20 or 50 feet below to the lake bottom.

Earlier in the day, we stopped by a visitor center and saw a diagram that showed the depth of the lake to be 1,600 feet deep. Deeper than the Empire State Building is tall, this is the second-deepest lake in the country and among the deepest in the world. So much water here that it is thought to be capable of 30-foot tsunamis if an earthquake occurs from one of the faults that run far beneath.

It is bowl-shaped, with a steep scoop so I know it gets deep quickly once offshore. My fear of heights is messing with my mind as I envision the emptiness below. This is a peaceful and powerful place.

I focus on all this for just a few minutes and then just enjoy the moment. We paddle here and there, and then glide a bit and chat. It’s a beautiful day.

Eagle Falls

Halfway up the granite steps, I stopped for a breather. More rock stairs carved into this mountain loomed ahead. Surely it would flatten out soon.

A hiker descended.

“You’re almost there,” she said. “It’s all straight up, but only about a half hour left.”

My soul wilted. A half hour’s climb? I looked at my companions. There was half-hearted eye contact. Nothing to do but move forward. We climbed.

Eagle Lake is worth the pain. Up above the popular Eagle Falls hike at Lake Tahoe’s Emerald Bay, Eagle Lake is serene, peaceful, beautiful. It’s this type of place that keeps me hiking these days.

High granite walls surround this small mountain lake. A duck glides across the smooth surface, creating a vee-shaped wake. We spy a boat of sorts on the far shore. Huh? Someone packed a boat up here?

Ok, so some websites call this an easy walk -- not the truth consider the climb, but for most people, really not too bad at all if you pace yourself. There are a few flat spots that give you a chance to catch your breath and look around.

On this midsummer’s late morning, the heat is rising but at 6,500 feet elevation, that means we’re just touching 80 degrees. A breeze cools us.

Voices and more voices. A trail of people snake toward our lake from below. Seems it’s rush hour here. Time to go.

I let gravity have its way and the descent is easier, if you’ll forgive the trembling that’s set in my legs. We stop partway down to admire the stunning view of Emerald Bay and Lake Tahoe far below. It’s a great location to view one of the most beautiful parts of the 22-mile long lake.

This hike gives far more than it takes.

Fairly fair

There comes a point where you go to the fair and those stomach-twisting rides and midway games don’t look so appealing anymore. I reached that point quite awhile back.

I still love the California State Fair. There is so much packed into this sprawling event – from art and technology exhibits to The Farm and Forestry areas to sales booths. There’s the wine tasting area and county-by-county agricultural exhibits.

Clearly, this is not your ordinary county fair. The State Fair an endurance test of epic proportions.

Let’s start with the food. I had heard of this year’s new item – a Jack Daniel’s soaked churro wrapped in bacon and served with maple syrup and whipped cream. Truly outrageous and a must-try. Right?

We were underwhelmed. The undersized churro was dried out, bacon flabby and not a hint of Jack Daniels flavor.

A simpler food item was a big hit with us. Cold grapes. That’s all.

Three decent-sized stems per serving were sold at The Farm area and they were the perfect food to eat as we strolled looking at the raised beds of watermelons, tomatoes, bellpeppers and much more.

It always impresses me how easy it is to garden in California and grow my own vegetables and fruit. The Farm is inspiring to home gardeners.

It can get pricey for a family of four to go to this big fair. 

With cost of admission, parking, ride tickets and food, the price tag is going to tip over the $100 mark.

This fair does offer a big value for this big price tag. For those with an entertainment budget, it’s one of those rites of summer that’s worth it.

Just wear your walking shoes.

My favorite child

I’ve passed the one-year mark since moving back to California.

Sometimes it feels longer, sometimes less. The sharp edges of my initial impressions of California – the homeless, traffic, impersonality – are wearing smooth as I find new friends and friendly roads to travel.

It would be easy to get lost here. Moving to a new place when kids are grown and the working world is behind me means I have to create an entirely new life from scratch. Make new contacts, develop new friends. There’s been a new house, new neighbors, new doctors, new roads to travel. I’ve learned the hard way to pay close attention to parking signs and the fine print that lists street cleaning days. Beware the $50 parking ticket!

Fortunately, I’ve found a couple of niches in writers, outdoor lovers and other women with similar interests. I’ve found a book club and attend museum events with others. Gone to plays and movies. It takes a little effort to restart a life but finding these groups has made all the difference in feeling a sense of belonging.

Being a bit of an introvert, I cherish my alone time too. Walking through my neighborhood, along paths and trails with my little dog as company, I feel recharged. I walk farmer’s markets and explore new cafes. I find new favorite haunts.

I’m frequently asked if I like California more than my previous home in Idaho. Like asking which is my favorite child, it’s the wrong question. They are both great places for different reasons.

I love my visits back to Boise, the relaxed highway driving, the rolling hills hugging the edge of the city, the friendliness of strangers. Those high mountain lakes, jagged peaks, first-of-the-season snowfalls, whitewater rivers, wilderness that seems to have no end. There’s a sense of the old West there which is kind of cool.

California has the beach and the weather, mountains and redwood forests. I like the vibrancy in California – there’s a buzzing undercurrent in the cities that is stimulating. This place feels fresh and new, not afraid to change, adapt, make mistakes, and change again.

One place is serenity, the other is electric.

Each place also has its own unique downsides. They’re incomparable and I like this too.

The truth is that a place means nothing unless you get out and experience it. I still have a long list of places to visit ahead of me. And I’m still having to work hard at finding my niche here. California is keeping me busy.