Bonanza… The TV series was set in this valley on the edge of the Eastern Sierras, just east of Lake Tahoe. When they showed the burning map at the beginning of each episode, Jean’s property was dead center. I searched for Hoss and Little Joe, but alas and alack...they’ve done gone on. But, the Ponderosa remains. Jean Smith lives there.
Wild mustangs still roam this land. We saw a small herd of them filing across the two lane and up over a dusty hill toward some still unnamed coulée, obedient to an aged call to run and remain hidden, free, answering to no call but that of the winds.
Prospectors still roam this land, too. Minerals, gold-dusted, silver encased, ever elusive. Jean’s husband is the latest and greatest to add his name to the long list of bearded, sun-burnt characters to hunt the hidden riches. Some say the earth talks to them and reveals her secrets. This man is one of them; Equal parts geologist, part botanist, part story teller, all character. He has found ways to analyze plants living above suspected deposits of ore out in the desert. It must be a really complicated process for all the machines and drying apparatus he utilizes to make these determinations. He must be pretty successful as well judging by the ranch he and Jean have assembled here in this valley. It’s an oasis, literally, built and cared for amidst the dust and dirt of the valley. Man, it’s dusty. The dust and dirt borne on the permanent winds are held in check by all sorts of wind breaks of trees and plantings. It’s a beautiful place.
Jean and her generous man showed us such hospitality it’s hard to thank them enough. Diane and Jean had gone to high school together and that’s the last time they had seen each other, until now. They literally dropped most of what they were doing for this week and showed us around the area, even taking us to a party of their friends where we were once again showered with generous hospitality of biblical proportions. It makes a gypsy feel warm in the heart to receive such welcome. Old mines, the state capital and its silver copula, warm local eateries, we seemed to see them all. The highlight of their guiding us through the territory, though, was taking us to a hike at 8000’ in the snow. We trudged through the old snow in the hyper-bright light of mid day at probably 50 degrees with no wind. Up and down hills among the Ponderosa pines we trekked until we came to the very edge of a long precipice.
The view of the mountains and Lake Tahoe were tremendous, breath-taking to say the least. Set in the crystalline snow, amidst these pines, we ate our little lunch that Jean had made for us back at the ranch. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, that all was right with the world, we noticed little chickadees flitting about the branches taking longing looks at us and turning their black-capped heads sideways to gain better perspectives of us. They were sizing us up. I held out my hand with some nuts from our trail mix as high over my head as I could. Once again, as in Colorado and New Mexico, the tender creatures, God’s beloved wings landed on our palms to accept our offerings. Wild birds eating from our finger tips and palms! Get out! I still can’t get over this. I never, ever thought this could happen to me. Diane...maybe. She is, after all, the reincarnation of St Francis of Assissi, patron saint of animals and pets. But me, no way. Yet here they are on this mountain bluff above one of the most beautiful lakes in the world in the snow at 50 degrees in the bright noon day sun, trusting me to feed them. As Jesus said, (and I paraphrase here) “ The birds of the world fear not where their next meal will come from. If the Father takes such care for them how much more care has He for you?” “Worry Not.”
Diane and I drove over to Lake Tahoe and toured around the lake’s western shore, stopping occasionally to take the dogs for walks along the banks. Such a perfect lake...clear as gin yet the most pleasing blue of color. Literally, an opal necklace for the eastern Sierra. As Diane and I traverse we find ourselves, despite the freedom from work we now enjoy, reminding ourselves that we will need to return to see all that we managed to miss, or simply to re-enjoy the places we’ve seen that we cannot get enough of. We thank the Smiths for their generosity. Such a wonderful pair of true human beings in every great sense of the phrase.