We just spent a week at the City of Berkeley’s family camp on the Tuolumne river, near Yosemite National Park. This was our tenth year or so, and I think family camp is my favorite family tradition. From the sights we see along the road to camp:
To the taqueria we always stop at, where the booth we always sit in is decorated with this mood-enhancing photo:
There’s something about sharing a chimichanga with this guy and his scar that never pales for me. This time, my husband noticed another endearing thing about the taqueria which I had never paid attention to, namely these two mermaids and the wallpaper palm trees that dot the walls of the restaurant. Given that the name of the taqueria is “The Shepherd,” they are truly decorations of mystery.
Then there’s the camp itself. I love just about everything at camp. The glamorous accommodations:
The genial disorder of the place:
The exciting events (this is the ice block relay race, which is actually run with bags of ice):
The maintenance guy up on the roof, fixing the chimney in a pink tube top and pink satin shorts.
We’ve been taking the girls there since they were toddlers, and as teenagers they still love it. I love sitting by the banks of the Tuolumne river, reading old thrillers salvaged from the camp bookshelf, where old thrillers go to die. The only one who has a hard time is my husband, who has piles of dirt waiting for him back home and a mind that’s not well suited to idleness.