Big Bear

(In college I took a creative writing class which resulted in a couple of short stories I wrote. I still have them so I'm going to publish them here every once in a while.)

I love the drive. The winding roads and the big trees. The smell of clean air and pine. I just plain like to ride on Highway 38 up to Big Bear Lake in the San Bernadino National Forest. It beats the hell out of my dull life in Los Angeles.

Let me back up for a second and introduce myself. My name is John Cobb, but you can call me Ziggy Cobb. I got the nickname Ziggy because I dressed up like Ziggy Stardust in the sixth grade for a class Halloween party. I was suspended from school for a week for dressing like Ziggy Stardust because the principal said I wasn't dress “appropriately”. Well at least I wasn't dressed like a nurse/whore like that tramp Becky Sharman. Now she wasn't dressed “appropriately” but I'm the one who was suspended.

Besides occasionally surfing and gawking at the freakshow known as Venice Beach, my life has been mostly dull. My parents work as a banker and a nurse. My sister married young to some old rich man and we haven't seen much of her since their wedding. My parents say things like, “How could your sister marry such an obtuse man?” whenever they talk about her. So I don't ask or talk about her no more.

When I was younger and my father had more free time we used to go up to Big Bear Lake. My dad always liked the mountains more than the ocean which confused me because we lived in Long Beach. Why would hate the ocean if you lived there? Why wouldn't you want to live in the mountains if you loved them? I certainly loved the mountains and that's why I was driving up to Big Bear.

I just knew that when I turned 18 I wouldn't live such a miserable life like my father. I didn't want to come home in the afternoon looking like I could use a piece of rope and a tall tree instead of being happy to be home and to see my wife and kids. How could I live like that? How could I live with myself? My dad always talked about being trapped, but he wasn't trapped. He just needed to look at himself in the mirror and finally say, “I'm going to do something that makes me happy”. If that was moving the family to mountains and running a bar than so be it. At least he would have been happy.

So that's why I traveled to Big Bear Lake on Highway 38. I loved Big Bear as a kid. The clearness of the lake. The smell of pine. The peaceful feeling I have with myself. My dad could have had this, but he choose to be an “adult”. I'm choosing to be happy and Big Bear makes me happy.

When I arrived at Big Bear I saw that there was a camp host wanted for the campground on the south side of the lake. I only packed a few clothes and had very little money. I could use whatever they were going to pay to be the Summer camp host. There was an old retired man down the street from where I grew up who was a camp host and he told me that it's not a very difficult job, but you have to work everyday.

I met with the Big Bear recreation center director Mr. Moss to talk about the camp host job. He asked whether I had experience camping and living outdoors which of course I had. He told me they could only pay me $50 bucks a day but I could stay in the campground for free and that water and ice was free as well but I had to come back to the recreation center for it. I accepted of course.

“Well good look son,” Mr. Moss said. “You must leave the campground though after Labor Day weekend. You cannot squat for the Winter.”

“Yes sir,” I said knowing full well him thinking I'm some sort of bum looking for a free place to stay.

 I drove down to the south campsite and found the camp host spot. I parked my truck, unloaded my stuff (ice chest, couple of chairs, a retractable table) and then began putting together my little tent and then set up my cot.

I was barely down setting up camp when a very large man with a pot bellied and half shaven face showed up at my camp. He was wearing swim trucks and a tank top. He had jelly rolls coming out of his shirt near his arm pit. His displeased face told me right away I was about to get yelled at.

“Are you the camp host?” asked the annoyed fat man.

“Yes sir.”

“Well the shitter is out. What are you going to do about it?”

“Well I'm going to finish setting up my camp and I'll be right over there.”

“Well good because it's a real mess over there.”

Mr. Moss had told me one of the bathrooms constantly had problems and that plumbers were in and out of the campsite since April. Moss had also told me that the cleaning supplies were in the shed next to the bathroom and that I should just wash out the bathrooms with a hose if there's a mess because there's a drain pipe.

After finishing setting up camp I walked over the bathrooms and 10 feet away there was the foulest stench I've ever smelled. Not even flies could be attracted to that smell. I didn't even look in the bathroom and went straight for the hose. I used my shirt to cover my nose from the stench and began washing down the floors. After finishing up I grabbed a mop and some pinesol and began mopping down the bathrooms. My nostrils burned the rest of the day.

The rest of the summer just consisted of a daily routine. Wake up by 6, clean the bathrooms, dump the trash, clean the fish cleaning stations, and make sure the new campers paid for their sites. Not much work and I was usually done by 10 AM. The rest of the day I either fished, swam, or went back to the recreational center to shoot pool or talk with Mr. Moss.

I like conversation. It makes the day go by faster and you usually learn something new everyday. Like I learned from Mr. Moss the best way to catch trout is to douse your bait or lure into a little WD-40. I learned from a camper how to field dress a rifle. Little things that I'm sure will be useful.

I'll never forget one camper though for the rest of my life. Her name was Shelley MacBath. She was a middle-aged divorced woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes. She stayed for a week at Big Bear with her ten-year old daughter Lucy and seven-year old son Shawn. They stayed in the campsite next to mine.

“Excuse me sir,” she said. “Can you help me put up this tent?”

“Yes Ma'am,” I said.

This woman was absolutely beautiful. I've never been with an older woman before but I was smitten with Shelley. Her eyes were as blue as the beautiful lake. He blonde hair had a golden look in the sun. She had long legs and a full chest. She had never been camping before but she wanted to take her children out of the city for a week. Let them get to know nature. My kind of woman.

“They're so cooped up at home,” she said I shoved the tent poles into their holes. “We live in a little apartment and we needed to take a break from the city. Get outdoors and not at the beach"

 We talked for a couple of hours while the kids when to the swimming hole. We talked by the camp fire  about our boring existence in the city and what we wanted to do with life. Shelley was going back to school to become a nurse after spending 10 years working for a bank. I told her I was just trying to enjoy life right now and not think too far into the future.

"You're still young," she said. "You have choices in life. Take your time deciding your future and really pour your heart into whatever occupation you decide you want."

"I think I want to work for the California Department of Fire," I say. "No. I know I want to work for the CDF. Then I can be stationed in the mountains year around."

"The mountains are beautiful but I'm not sure I would want to live in them for the winter. I've never been a fan of the snow."

"It doesn't bother me much even though I've grown up all of my life on the coast."

"Well I hope you do whatever your heart desires."

Shelley and her children would eventually leave Big Bear. I would meet other campers that summer but I never got to really know them like Shelley. I would eventually leave Big Bear after Labor Day weekend and returned back home. I would remember Shelley's words though and would follow my heart.

I'll always remember that summer at Big Bear.