Face Lift for the Golden K

June 3, 2017

The Golden K had a bit of a face lift last week. 33 dead pine trees were cut down at their knees. They never saw it coming. But we did.

When we bought the property there were already 16 dead pines. Over the past year – mostly during early spring – another 17 bit the dust. Bark Beetle dust that is. The beetles bore their way into the bark of the pines and the pines, after five years of drought, can’t produce enough sap to fend them off. It’s evident from red dust protruding from the bark instead of sap. You can almost see the trees dying in front of your eyes. The death starting at the very top and quickly working its way down to the lowest needles.

Fortunately we still have 107 Pines and plenty of Oaks and Cedars and the 33 now removed pines will hardly be missed in the landscape and organic fabric of the Golden K.

The crew was here for five days and there was a lot of chain saw action to say the least. Much to Kloe’s chagrin. When you live in the mountains the sound of chain saws is as natural as the chirping of the birds or cockle-doodle-doing of the roosters. Kloe has literally grown up listening to chain saw noise. Maybe it was the proximity of the saws cutting down our 33 trees or perhaps some sound beyond our audible spectrum that bothered her. Whatever it was Kloe was very agitated when the saws were buzzing. Kali, not so much. Except for thunder nothing seems to rattle Kali.

Kloe survived the week and The Golden K is better off with the 33 dead 100 foot plus matchsticks. If you’ve never experienced the sound of a 120 foot tree hitting the ground you are really missing something. There’s a certain majesty of something that big and heavy hitting the ground with a massive thud and bounce! On one of the falls I was about 15 feet behind the crew member making the cut. After it was on the ground he turned around. I told him that I knew he does it all the time but for me it was so awesome to see and hear this massive piece of mother nature hitting the ground. He grinned and told me that it never gets old for him. Every time he still feels the rush.

So 33 dead trees and a chunk of change later the Golden K is a safer place. 33 fewer matchsticks in the event of a fire and 33 fewer chances of a giant child of nature falling on our house, or God forbid one of us or The Girls.

So at the end of the day ( a term I dislike but use here any way) our small piece of the forest was thinned for the greater good and as we look out over it, or under it as the case may be, we continue to feel blessed with our romantic perspective of life at 3100 feet.

It’s relatively easy to get them on the ground. It’s the clean up that takes time (and $).

Kloe is freaking out – can you keep it down with the chain saws?!?

Boss Lady Holly declaring the job is officially done.

Return of the Black Tailed Deer

March 21, 2017

Spring is in the air and the deer seem to know it.

We got to know “our” black tailed deer during the past year. We enjoyed their visits each morning and evening as we became accustomed to mountain life and our new surroundings. We got to know the regulars – three bucks we named Scratcher, Kicker, and Chester – and the occasional doe who would follow behind in an appropriate amount of distance based on pecking order.

In early summer we gushed when a spotted fawn accompanied a doe and the three bucks down for breakfast. We watched in awe as the bucks antlers grew and made these mature males look all the more powerful and glorious. We mourned the loss of Gimpy, the buck with a broken leg, who we found him dead on our property in early Fall not far from our driveway. He was an older buck who hobbled along on a three legs for at least a few years (per the previous property owners) and apparently died of old age and not because of his injury that he seemed to manage relatively well given the circumstances.

In Fall hunting season is followed by rutting which drive the deer away from the Golden K with only an occasional visit by a stray buck. The mostly absence of deer throughout Winter was striking and I missed them. I wondered where they went, how they were doing, and if they would return back to the Golden K.

And then they did. Last weekend our black tailed beauties returned home in full force.

There were antler-less bucks with foreheads sporting only sockets where their magnificent antlers once were but fell off in the last month or so. There were does, skinny and hungry and presumably preparing for birth later this spring or early summer. And there were the yearlings. Small and skinny but healthy “kids” who survived the winter when the majority of their peers have perished. Fawn mortality rate runs between 50% and 70%.

So as Spring begins friends of the Golden K have returned much to our joy and anticipation. Anticipation of more fawns, more grand buck antlers, and continued health and prosperity that all creatures- man or beast – hope to experience and be blessed upon by Mother Nature.

It’s been almost a year since we arrived at the Golden K. The return of the black Tailed have Deer reinforced the circle of life and most notably my romantic perspective of life at 3100 feet.

Solitude

February 18, 2017

I’ve never been very good at giving the one word answer or the ‘in a single sentence describe the..” I tend to be a little wordy. Holly will laugh when she reads the last sentence and think to herself (or say out loud), “A little?!?”. Often when I’m asked an important or provocative question, rather than take a thoughtful pause, I usually start talking to fill the space while my mind is thinking and formulating the right answer. The succinct and meaningful answer. The answer I wish I had given after a moment or two of silence while I thought it out rather than vamping on gibberish until I “got there”.

And so it was last weekend at a friends house. After a wonderful meal the six of us were enjoying after dinner banter and Jenny, our host, asked a great question. A provocative question. One of “those” questions. Jenny and her husband Greg have lived in the mountains for many years; Greg his entire life. Holly and I moved to the Golden K, thanks in a big way to Jenny, less than a year ago. Jenny was lock step with us the entire way helping us to navigate the life changing journey from Suburbia to the Sierra Nevada Foothills. And she’s still there for us and interested in “how we’re doing”.

“So what do you like most about living in the mountains?”

There it was. Jenny asked one of those questions. My brain started going where I make lists, prioritize the list, organize it into categories, rationalize the motivation for the items on the list, and then put it all into a spreadsheet for the beginning of an executional plan. Yikes – I was doing it. But this was a great question. It meant a lot to me that Jenny asked and then I could almost hear the ringside announcer saying, “Let the rambling begin….”.

I went on to describe the people, the slower pace of life, the laid back vibe, the blah blah blabadee blah blah blah.

I woke up the next morning thinking about this question and the answer was perfectly clear: solitude. That’s what I like most about living in the mountains. Not solitude as defined in the dictionary (the state of being alone) but the solitude of being in the middle of a piece of our planet that Mother Nature has shown great favor to. A habitat shared (mostly) peacefully by man, beast, and plants. The solitude of the fresh air. The solitude of the sound of the wind blown pine trees. The walks with dogs in the middle of a dirt or gravel road. The silence of night. The sunlight filtered through the pines and oaks sneaking into my bedroom at first light. The solitude of a sustained stare with a five point buck outside my kitchen patio. The solitude of waking up to a frozen world after a night of snow. The solitude of walking out on a cold morning, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath. The solitude of sitting under the summer stars with my bride of 34 years and our two Golden Retrievers, all three whom I love desperately.

So yeah, solitude. That’s what I like most about living in the mountains. It’s solitude that fortifies my romantic perspective of life at 3100 feet.

The solitude of waking up to a frozen world after a night of snow.

The Emerging Compound

August 17, 2016

One of the reasons we fell in love with The Golden K before it was The Golden K was the layout of the property. It has a wonderful house, a wrap around deck that connects to a dog run that is totally contained (and safe for Kali and Kloe), plus many out buildings. One of those out buildings was a large shed with an adjacent car port. I say “was” because when we bought the property we designated this structure to be renovated into my office. I work primarily from home and rather than take up a bedroom as an office we decided to convert the shed.

Full disclosure. There is a smaller out building that would be far less expensive to convert to an office but when one makes dreams come true why not dream big, right. Just not too big…

My vision for The Golden K has always been that of a “compound”. Those sprawling homesteads with guest houses, trails to explore, room for privacy if you want it, and common areas for family and friends to come together at the end of the day for meals and spiritual nourishment. In other words, steak and wine!…

The original plan for the shed was to incorporate the area that comprises the car port into the floor plan. That area would be a good size bedroom and the shed area would be my office that doubles for living space when guests were using it. There was to be a bathroom, small kitchenette, couch, TV, etc. Unfortunately reality kicked in when we received our cost estimates and we prudently scaled back the project. (Reference dreaming “too big” above…)

The car port for now will remain just that – a car port and place to park my truck. The shed will be converted to my office with enough amenities to make it another place to hang out and watch a sporting event, play music (my piano and guitar will be prominent elements), and just provide another spot for Holly or I or friends and family to escape to for a little privacy or solitude.

And now construction has finally begun. Seeing the contractors strip the generations-old cabinets and counters away, cut in new windows, and begin wiring for canned lights and modern amenities has made this project become very real. While it may be slightly less grand than my original vision it is still a new and exciting element of our emerging compound we call The Golden K.

UNDER CONSTRUCTION AT THE GOLDEN K

Golden Kali

Posts filed in Visioning

Face Lift for the Golden K

Return of the Black Tailed Deer

Solitude

The Emerging Compound