Tahoe and Retirement

I’ve come up to Tahoe so many times in recent years that I’ve lost count. Yet, this time it marked the beginning of my retirement.  I haven’t completely wrapped my head around this retirement thing yet.  Mostly because, being a teacher, each school year ends with summer vacation.  The slow wind down to the end and then the joyous exhilaration that marks the start of summer.  I’ve been in this pattern for most of my life.  The September to June cycle goes back to being a kid in elementary school,   high school and college. Then, I had  many years of my own kids going to school, and the twenty years I also spent teaching. So the fact that I’ve started yet another summer vacation, doesn’t really make me feel like I have also retired!  I don’t feel like this is really the beginning of a permanent vacation- but I’m not complaining. (And that's not lemonade- its Margaritas!)

Being in Tahoe is the definition of being on vacation.  I am not at home with all the numerous tasks that get in the way of relaxing.  Here, waking up and having coffee on the deck means being on vacation.  The smell of the pine trees, the chatter of Stellar blue jays, the scampering of squirrels and the gentle ‘quaking’ of the Aspen trees, means summer has arrived.   Here on this little road, life seems to stand still.  Trees grow, yet no one notices. They have always been this monstrously tall. Aspen trees shoot up baby trees next to the larger adult tress, pinecones fall from above, bunnies sit stalk still,  and an occasional brown bear ambles through, taking ownership of the street as people watch from inside their houses.

Summer means warm nights, cards, gin and tonics, and a carefree mindset.

On this day, family from England visited and enjoyed the “new”(remodeled)  version of the Lynch family vacation home- established in 1969.

This neighborhood is unique in a lot of ways.  Many of the vacation or year-around homes have been passed from generation to generation. In fact, of the eight houses within a short distance of our house, five are homes that have passed through family ties, passing from parent to child, just as Winnie passed this house to Rob. A little log cabin a couple of blocks away is on the market for the first time in 65 years. There is a sense of continuity and family on these little roads that makes the world seem to move a bit more slowly.

Now that it is finally summer, it is difficult to remember the cold solitude of this past winter. The hush of the snowpack made the cabins seem even more vulnerable and yet at the same time, cozier too. 

There is nothing especially fancy about the houses in this neighborhood, but the history and unassuming nature of the area makes even the most humble home, seem cute and cozy.  Most were built in the 1920s and 1930s as US Forest Service cabins. And, there are a smattering of ones built in the 40s, 50s, 60s and 70s too.  Many of the older ones have chimneys that were constructed by the native Washoe tribe.  If you have one of those houses, you must check with the Historical Society before doing any exterior work.  I suppose that is both a blessing and a curse.  The story goes that the native tribes lived in the Carson Valley for hundreds of centuries, traveling to the shores of Lake Tahoe in the summer to fish and hunt.  As modern progress invaded their way of life, they learned the masonry trade and made a living creating unique stone chimneys in the area.

It is June and I am in Tahoe, what else can be better?