Snow Grapes

We tried to do nothing today. You know, just loll around, listen to some reggae and a great new song that Chris discovered at Phil's coffee on our last morning in San Francisco, (The Seed - by Cody Chestnutt and the Roots.) But it's really hard to just stay at home here: it's the perfect temperature to be a human in - not too hot, not too cold - and the knowledge that soon enough it will be 20 degrees is palpable.

Plus, nature calls. It really does; you should hear how loud the bees are in the tree outside our front door. Last night, we were lured out to Hyalite Canyon, about 20 minutes from our house, where we ate a picnic and then we went for a little fish hike.

Around noon today, we couldn't stand staying in any longer and headed to Fairy Lake. I was hoping the name would lure our hike-phobic children from their nest. Yeah for fairy nomenclature - it worked like a charm!

The car ride to the hike was about 23 miles - the length of an average driveway out here, or so it seems. Anything under a three hour drive is considered inconsequential.

Right as we turned onto the 6.7 mile dirt road leading to the trailhead, we saw a hand-written sign saying that the road was closed due to snow at the three mile mark. Impossible. After all, it was 90 out. We drove on, and sure enough, the road was closed three miles in. But the lake just sounded too enchanting to miss, so we decided to hike the remaining 3.7 miles up the dirt road, then take the short trail to the lake.

Hmmm... We hadn't done an eight mile hike in years. The little people had never gone that far and generally complained about any walk after about a hundred yards.

No time like the present to rip off the bandaid though, so away we went.

Things started off swimmingly:

Not as crazy as it appears

Alluring snowcapped peaks

Cooling off by the river

Zoey does not actually walk.

In the beginning, we were so hot that we were pouring icy river water on our heads and into our hats, hoping that against all odds, there really was snow in the road as the sign had said.

About two miles in, there it was:

Weird, right?

Just as we made it to the long-awaited snow, some dark clouds arrived over the mountains.

Not exactly ominous, but things started to feel spooky, and cold.

Suddenly, sandals didn't seem like the best footwear, and Stella had to be carried over the snow patches because her toes were so chilly.

 We pushed on, and darn was it a long go of things.

Strange site: these guys had just made the hike to the peak and skied down.

 We finally made it to the lake, just in time for an insane hailstorm.

Snow grapes!

 There was just enough time for Zoey to reel in her first cutthroat trout we before were on our way home.

The contrast of the heat, the snow, the clouds and our tacky towel made for an odd scene.

 

In the end, Stella confessed to enjoying herself. 

That's all I needed to hear to make my day.