From the years 1988 - 2000 Dave and I lived in a remote mountain community called Bear Valley in California.  Dave had always been an extreme outdoorsman involved in any and all snow and water sports.  He snow ski'd and water ski'd for many years .... until the old knees finally gave out.  Then he took up snowmobiling.  Not casual snowmobiling but crazy nuts extreme cross country lucky if you don't die in an avalanche snowmobiling.  It's just not fun it you don't tempt death .... ya know?  Anyway .... when he was layed off from his job in 1988 he had a job offer from a snowmobile shop in Bear Valley ..... he really really wanted to go.  I had been with him for about 4 years ... maybe 5 years at the time and although I had taken up snowmobiling and enjoyed it ... the thought of living in the snow was not my idea of fun.  So .... I told him I would not move without a commitment on his part (marrying my ass) and he gave me one.  I quit my job .... we got married .... and off to 7100 feet in the Sierras .... to live.

The first few years were fun and different for this "city" girl.  After that it just seemed like a heck of alot of work.  But I would not trade this time in my life for anything.  There were approximately 150 of us that lived there 365 days a year.  And a whole lot more non-resident homeowners .... rich folk with a second home.  For us that lived there .... our survival definitely depended on these people.  They were the money that made our town tick.  Still are.

There was a downhill ski area as well as the 2nd largest (at least was at the time) cross country area in the U.S. And many many miles of snowmobiling.  Legally ..... maintained trails were allocated for snowmobile to use.  These boundries meant pretty much nothing to a rather large group of renagade snomobilers .... including myself and Dave.  We could get to Tahoe quicker by snowmobile in the winter than by car in the summer.  And it was one hell of a fun ride.  I soon was able to keep up with just about any man on a snowmobile. 

They would close the roads down to the subdivision after the first good dumping of snow.  After that you relied on snowmobiles, skiis, snow shoes or good old fashioned walking to get you up and down the hill to your home.  We would park our cars in designated parking areas which had alternate days for moving cars so that the lots could be cleared of snow.  The average annual snowfall was 55 feet.  We dealt with snow for a good 7 to 8 months out of every year.  I soon got tired of snow.  

The one thing that was unbelievable was the tightness of the community.  You became "family" with those that lived there.  For the most part it was a great thing .... but as in most small communities you deal with gossip and personality clashes.  But no matter what .... we always had each others back.  It was a good feeling.  Didn't realize how much I would miss that when we left.  But I do.

There are so many stories from these years spent there ..... I grew alot as a person there.  Built self-confidence that I never knew I had.  It stemmed from having people there who wanted you to succeed .... wanted to be a part of your success.  When I decided to take the First Responder training, something I never would have thought of doing, I had a whole community cheering for me .... wishing me well and helping me study or whatever they could do to help.  It was pretty unreal.  When someone in the community was hurt or ill .... we would all chip in to help make sure they had what they needed ..... especially in winter. 

I'll probably write stories from time to time about our life there .... just because it was such a huge part of making me what I am now (other than an emotional mess). 



Another bad picture of a picture.  Sorry.  But anyway this is our house in Bear Valley.  Taken in April of 1997.  Hard to tell but it's about a 6' to 7' drop down to the front door.  It was not unusual for us to go in through the second story when the times were such we could not keep up with the snowfall.  And there were those times.

Peace.  J.