Visiting My Past

Forty years ago, I lived in Lake County California for about nine months. It was my only time as a California resident. Judy attended Mills College for two years, but had never been to Lake County before yesterday.

After the NCAA women's rowing championship wrapped up, we headed due north from the eastern suburbs of Sacramento, through Marysville. We crossed I-5 at Williams, headed for Clear Lake, the largest body of pure fresh water that is entirely inside of California.

As we drove up into the hills of the western edges of the Sacramento River valley, the Live oaks became an immediate presence. The freshness of early June keeps many of the wild grasses and wildflower fields green, or at least greenish - at least for now. We could smell the scent of pine as we ascended the pass toward Clear Lake.

I was afraid that my first trip to an area I once deeply loved, after an almost 40 year lapse, would disappoint me, especially in terms of seeing rampant development or environmental degradation. After spending over three days in parts of greater Sacramento, full of more subdivisions than there are miles on the Alaska Highway; after seeing mega-Evangelical churches so huge you could fit three Anchorage Baptist Temples easily inside them; after being overwhelmed at how difficult California's problems are compared to Alaska's - I was ready to again be shocked.

It didn't happen. Lake County has developed in the 39 years since I lived there. But, for the most part, it has not suffered the awful impacts endured by many parts of the state. Clear Lake seems to be almost as clear as in 1968. Some of the communities around it remain funky tourist niches, ready for the next Alfred Hitchcock to immortalize.

We stayed Monday night in Lakeport, Lake County's county seat, with a population just over 5,000. 40 years ago, it wasn't a whole lot smaller. Judy and I walked around the back streets off of the downtown area for an hour. The RV park we stayed in had a dock and a lake deck where Judy and I snacked and relaxed as it got dark. This morning, Judy got in her first really good run, jogging through the town's eastern paths.

Today I took Judy to Harbin Hot Springs, near Middletown. I worked as a caretaker there in 1968 and 1969. We hiked a few miles along paths and trails and shepherds' roads in the hills above the springs, through oak, pine, bay laurel and willow stands and copses. We saw lizards, a few snakes, and many birds.

After we had hiked, we went down to the hot springs resort. It is a very New Age place, offering all kinds of seminars for individuals and couples, massages, yoga classes and other features. The hot springs there are well known in Northern California. And so is the place's ambience. Clothing is optional in the hot springs area. We shucked ours - it was about 80 degrees.

The main hot spring pool is about 108 degrees. A smaller one is usually about 117. We rotated between the two. After a couple of rounds, Judy and I had to sit down upon exit from the very hot pool.

Walking away, after drying, naked in the sun, around smiling people of all shapes, sizes, races and orientations, I asked Judy how she felt. She replied, "Perfect."

We're in Calistoga for the night.