For Thursday, June 10, 1999 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 714 words

The first day

Today is the last day of school. Eeeeha! Wahoo! Yipee! Woohoo! O Boy!

Sorry, I know. I'm a grown man with a real job, not a school boy. I shouldn't be so excited about summer vacation. But I am. Yippie ti-yi-yo!

Some summers I want to veg quietly at home and eek out every minute of every day in contemplative silence, enjoying each precious personal moment. Other summers I want to run around. This will be a run-around summer.

We'll be doing some hard traveling and sight seeing, sort of a Farewell to the Old World gala tour. I will have pen and pad at the ready for stand-out experiences.

I also intend to go back to work on my eternal yard, between runs. I've been building at it for a dozen years now, and it still has a ways to go. We just added a new deck, our sixth.

I haven't installed a hot tub yet. We were on the verge of buying one a while back, but stopped again. We just can't decide if we will actually use it regularly for years and years, or if we will use it a lot initially and then let it become a cold, dry, giant dead blob of weathered wood and canvas in the middle of our backyard.

I wish I could take a survey to see which outcome is most common. How about this -- if you own a hot tub and have a distinct positive or negative experience to share, email me with advice, please. I'm beholding to you. gibbo@inreach.com

I'm feeling a renewed urge to camp. I must admit, I fell out of the tenting habit over the last 4-5 years, mostly due to the ringing tinnitus in my left ear. That squeal made the quiet of the forest a lost treasure. However, lately the noise has subsided and I've learned to ignore what's left. The solitude of silent pines once again brings me solace.

Last weekend I went camping again, by the way, this time with my seniors, 12 from my journalism crew. It's an annual thing we do called The Weekend Before Finals Decadent Camping Trip. It's for those who are completely ready for finals and those who don't have a hope anyhow. We get an odd mix. Our goal: rest, eat, swim, sleep, explore.

We visited our usual spot -- South Fork of the Yuba. We know of an out-of-the-way campground with plenty of open spaces, and joined two together. Our days were hot and sunny. First we tried swimming, but the liquid ice chased us back on shore, so we sunned on the rocks. We drove into Nevada City for pasta and ice cream. Some went four-wheeling.

We drove out to Tyler Foote Crossing Road and rolled big rocks off the cliff. We returned to camp and cooked up barbecued chicken and roasted corn-on-the-cob. We talked about how glad we were to finish the final issue of the Paw. We slept late.

I woke up first to a silent forest and sipped coffee at the picnic table. Ah, there was a moment to savor: silence, coffee, trees, freedom to spit.
Have you noticed that this column is going nowhere in particular? My terminating resistor has fallen off and the signal is spilling out.

The final days of school are also sad. I will miss my students, but not for long. We've arranged a summer rafting trip, of course. I seldom invite adults rafting because they take too long to get ready. They need a month to fit it on their calendars and two months to postpone the trip because other things came up. I can call kids Friday night to go rafting on Saturday morning. That we'll do.

Yosemite. I love to look at that word. Yosemite. It looks like an adventure. The big Y with the elevated valley reminds me of Ten Lakes. The o is my flashlight beam. The s is the tumbling waterfall. The e is the sound of evening mosquitoes. The m is the surrounding mountain range. The i is the ice that blocks and rejuvenates alpine trails. The t is for the trees that offer shady lids. The final e is for me, after I have passed through Yosemite.

Let it be.