Yan’s longtime interest in archeology and the kids’ online Spanish classes were really what catalyzed this trip into existence. During the pandemic, Daphney had the opportunity to transition to Spanish immersion with a teacher in Mexico, and we kept up these classes with various teachers, all based in Cancún. So eventually we decided: we should go visit the teachers in person. While we’re there, we would tour the ruins of the Yucatán.
It’s a sunny Friday morning. We had driven up the day before and camped at Rock Creek Lake, a beautiful spot surrounded by pines and aspens that are just beginning to glimmer gold. The hike to Hilton Creek Lake #2 is five miles according to the map. We set out first, while Kendrick, Rakesh, Kara, Aaron, Noah, and Suri will join us later.
The first light of dawn peeks through the trees, nudging me awake from nine solid hours of sleep. There’s no rush, but we know we need to finish breakfast and hit the trail soon—Brad has a plane to catch. Breakfast is familiar but satisfying, with an extra treat of honey packets we saved from yesterday.
“The sun is up,” Brad’s voice jolts me.
I leap out of my sleeping bag, jump out of the tent, grab my wide-angle lens, and crank down the aperture. I race along the shores of Lake 11,400’, chasing the border where light meets shadow, trying to capture perfect sun stars. As I reach the southern shore, I snag a double star—one behind Mt. Tyndall, and the other mirrored in the lake below. The rising sun begins to burn off the morning dew, and wildflowers open up to embrace the warmth. I switch to my macro lens, capturing delicate details.
Breakfast is the same, yet somehow it gets better each morning—hearty oatmeal mixed with honey, pour-over coffee, and scones that hit the spot.
Sunbeams dance on the stream like shards of glass, casting shades of amber, emerald, and turquoise. The inlet at Golden Bear Lake flows stronger today, a subtle shift from yesterday’s calm. We know today’s going to be tough, so we pack up, soaking in the last views of this stunning basin.
The lake is still, like a mirror in the morning light. Around dawn, I poke around with my macro lens to find suitable subjects, looking for details that often go unnoticed. Then, we have a simple but satisfying breakfast: oatmeal with honey , scones with pour-over coffee. I had made the contraption to hold the filter paper, and grounds were pre-measured from home: 35 g of beans to 560 cc of water.
At last, Brad and I are standing at the Onion Valley trailhead on this very overdue trip. Way overdue. We had talked about doing such a trip off and on over the years—for nine years, to be exact. Only now has it materialized.
The kids are getting more and more trail time. Two years ago, we did one uphill mile each day, with two miles hiking out. Last year, we did two miles with a lot of elevation gain. Now, we’re going to tackle more than five miles. The last week has been…
This started two years ago, when I first drew up the plans, since everything I found on the internet for skin-on-frame were single kayaks. Daphney wanted a tandem, so drafting was the only way. I modeled it after drawings of some fast tandems and tested buoyancy and stability curves on software. The project had fits and starts, partly due to my schedule as well as motivation. Thankfully, I had a covered section of the house where I could leave the project in progress.
