July Excursions: Tales of Tahoe--Part Two of a 3-Part Series

I'm getting a little tired of apologizing for my long absences, so I'm not going to, but will immediately pick up where I last left off. I think one of the reasons I've been dragging my feet on these vacation posts is that I'm not finding them very fun to write. They were much more fun to do.

During the second half of July, we took off on a long-before arranged trip with Grandma & Grandpa Ryan, and Uncle Caleb and Aunt Kathryn to visit Lake Tahoe. The in-laws had reserved a room at a hotel right on the shores of the lake and graciously invited us to crash their party . . . so we did.

One of the first things we did was to research all the ways to squeeze all of our money's worth (or, actually, Grandpa's and Grandma's money's worth) out of the offered hotel perks. The kids, of course, went swimming in the pool, while Tim, Caleb, Kathryn and I snagged an hour-long reservation at the lobby pool table which we spent pretending we knew how to play the game. Judging from the looks of the people who floated by occasionally, I'd say that they weren't buying it.

The next morning, we dumped the kids in the Kid's Activity Center to learn the valuable art of crafting. They came away with necklaces, birdhouses, and little piggy banks. Crafting Education: Complete. While I was very satisfied with the children's instruction in piggy-bank painting, I must admit I was less than happy with their toddler care. Meriel was taken into their toddler play room at one point. She was hardly there for more than fifteen minutes, but just look at what they managed to do to her:Outwardly, I was laughing, but inwardly, I was disturbed . . . very disturbed. And I began to quietly plot my revenge. People just shouldn't be allowed to do this to other people's daughters! But I was beaten to it by Keller (he's such an activist), who took it upon himself to protest by throwing up all over the Activity Center's bathroom floor. Who's laughing now? . . . Okay, I wasn't laughing, I felt bad. But that did make everything even. If only it had stopped there . . .

The next morning, Keller had a good morning nap, showing that he still wasn't 100%, but we figured that the up-chucking was safely behind us. We headed off for a fun little educational hike. Keller threw up on the way there. This is why you have a grocery bag in the car at all times! We cleaned him up, and continued on the hike (actually, it was just a path). Keller put on a brave, but tired, face.

We snagged a doggy bag from a dispenser for him to use along the hike, in case of emergency, and he spent most of the hike holding that bag inches from his face like it was an oxygen mask. He didn't need it, but remember this incident, because it will be a recurring theme.

Grandma, Ian and Meriel--asking Keller how he's feeling . . . from a distance.

They are about to head to the most interesting part of the hike--a tunnel that leads below the level of the creek. There's a window that lets you watch all of the fish swimming by.

Daddy and Meriel, managing to enjoy themselves despite the ominous shadow of Keller's sickness which loomed over all. I doubt that Meriel is much aware of the misery of others in general. Tim's probably only smiling because I told him to.

The highlight of the trip, was, of course, hanging out by the lake. Meriel, being Meriel, could hardly contain her joy. I, myself, was extremely determined to enjoy the lake via canoe. So we arranged for kids to be watched one morning while we strolled down to the shore and asked to rent a canoe. Every time we asked for a canoe, the people at the rental place gave us funny looks and then double-checked to make sure that we didn't actually want a kayak. I then noticed that most other people were in kayaks and that ours was the only canoe on the lake. I guess they're not in vogue. My guess is that it's because they only give out the goofy, orange, neck-brace-type life preservers to the canoers. The cool vests go to the motorboats, jet skiers, and kayakers. When the girl saw how I was eyeing the life-preserver she was handing me, she admitted, "you don't have to wear it, you just have to have it with you." Done and done! No longer deterred by the funny-looking life-preserver, I happily jumped into our un-hip canoe with Tim and paddled off! Call me old-fashioned, but there's nothing quite like the shoulder pain and sunburn that comes from good ol' canoing.The kids loved the lake, and we were all sad to leave, but we couldn't be too unhappy because our next stop was Idaho!

Coming soon: Kronicles of Kuna (YES, I misspelled that on purpose)