Happy Birthday Marby! On your 3rd birthday (in redwood years)

Yesterday my dad and I took my son Frederick up to the Ponderosa, a small community in the high country with a nice little cowboy restaurant, filled with knotty pine and small, rustic antique collectibles.

At over 7000 feet elevation in October, I assumed my 3 ½ year old would get a wee bit cold walking across the road and parking lot and into the restaurant with only a t-shirt and underpants.  He insisted that he could manage.  As the lady in the car next to us suggested, he would likely change his mind rather quickly.  I grabbed the clothes and held his hand as he tip-toed across the road. 

That’s where we first met Marby and her friends.  They were dining on the patio in the sun as I walked by saying "Frederick, the sign on the restaurant says ‘No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service’ and implied in the sign is ‘no pants.’”  I heard some chuckling. 

Frederick had the solution: he would sit outside in the sun.  As Marby and her friends left with comments like “nice underwear, buddy!”  We enjoyed our burgers in the sun and Frederick proved all of the adults wrong.   

We headed out from Ponderosa to check out some of the sites of interest.  I convinced Frederick to wear his pants and shoes so that he could walk with me on Dome Rock.  We got to the top and heard a question:  “Do you have your pants on?” 

Frederick loved the attention and despite his feigned shyness, he did manage to follow these folks around Dome Rock until they departed.

We loaded up in our car and met them again down the road.  That’s when we realized they were celebrating Marby’s birthday with some celebratory libations.  According to her friends, she was in the redwood forest because she was seeking out something older than herself.  The giant sequoia trees are 500 to 1500 years old.  That’s when Marby announced that she is only three years old, in redwood years.  Marby is the one in the picture below, to the right.

They were not from the area so they considered coming home with us to work on the house or stopping at the Trail of 100 Giants.  They chose the trail, to my great surprise.  That was our next stop as well, so once again, we found ourselves seeing the same sites.  The highlight of the trail for all of us, and certainly for Frederick, was seeing a cat stuffed in a handbag having been tired out from a hike.  We also witnessed the cat transition from the bag to a leash once it was rested.  My dad met the cat on the trail as well and reported its name was James. 

So we had a great day and marveled many times “we get to live here!”  The high Sierras are spectacular.