The only proper jet fighter plane during this year's Airshow in Salinas.

Near the ocean we always admire gliding pelicans.

The date of September nine came rushing in -- and we found ourselves in our car, taking granny to the airport. Back in March, we had promised our kids that we would pick granny up on arrival, but it did not work out then. Thus they had not been to the international airport for perhaps a year and Tom was quite eager. Lisa had packed a small, wheeled luggage, granny took two somewhat larger bags, and we were ready. Her check-in went smoothly, and so we dragged her off into the airport shuttle train, preventing her from simply hanging out on some bench somewhere. Tommy totally kept on insisting to ride up and down on both lines.

In the end even our train maniac caved in and we got out. Granny left her carry-on with us and took Tom to a bathroom. I was lightly conversing with Lisa about telling granny good-bye and her flying on the big airplane to Prague. Lisa asked me a seemingly innocent question: "And where are WE going to fly?" I answered with a smile that we were not flying anywhere; we would drive home and eat dinner. Oy, what bad judgement! About a year ago, Tommy made a scene at the airport for the same reason (Daddy flying somewhere and him being left behind with his boring mother) -- and have I learned? No, sir. Lisa gave me her steely look and declared, "I don't want to go home, I don't want any dinner; I'm not even a little hungry." She then proceeded to refuse to say bye to her treacherous grandma, and only conceded to waving through the gate glass.

Having spotted a decent rock, they both immediately climb on it.

Kids enjoy having conquered the knoll, being outdoors, and everything.

Tommy has been able to grasp wider circumstances; he wept that he's going to miss granny. At school he told his surprised teacher that he will fly away, too, and won't ever comeback (I learned this by way of the principal asking me when we plan this grand vacation of ours). After much explaining that we plan to go visit granny in spring and why waiting till the spring, Tom came back one day with a solution. He began with a question, whether trains are cheaper than aeroplanes, and suggested we take the train on our way to granny in Prague. I opposed him by pointing out the need to cross an ocean, and backed my argument with Lukas's globe. Tom conceded that there indeed is a large ocean, but then he thought a bridge could be built across the ocean. To let him see his granny Josie in Brno and also his granny New Fuss and also the little house and granddad Karel, for they are friends. So Tommy has been relatively in the picture. I'm not so sure about Lisa, if she remembers enough information from our last visit to distinguish between the two grandmothers, although she has been invoking the "when are we going to fly to granny in Brno" topic with an unyielding insistence. Perhaps her favorite Cinderella by Disney refreshes her memory -- during a scene with a magic faerie, both kids yelp that she looks just like their granny Josie.

Granite Point gives you a magnificent view to the northern cliffs of Point Lobos.

I was a bit worried how we would cope without granny and how Tom would handle going to preschool every day, but besides questions when we will fly to granny, everything has been going much better than expected. Lisa has still not stopped enjoying three mornings a week with her boring mother. Tommy continues to be excited at school. First two weeks were perhaps a bit taxing, he wore dark circles around his eyes and complained about being tired, but apparently he got gradually used to it. He remains difficult at leaving time -- everybody has seen a child who, at the sight of his/her mother coming to pick him/her up, runs into said mother's arms. It is almost newsworthy to see a child who, at the sight of his beloved mother, starts to scream hysterically that he won't go home, and runs into the farthest corner, where he whimpers and haggles over being left longer at the preschool.

Uphill switchbacks at Pinnacles

Lisa follows Tom practically anywhere -- including neck-breakingly.

Going to an Airshow in Salinas on the last weekend of September became a regular affair. We had really enjoyed last year's system -- have a lunch in Salinas downtown, reach the event in the early afternoon and stay till the end, to see the highpoints. Blue Angels were not scheduled to appear this year, and were replaced by Thunderbirds, and we were looking forward to see something mildly different.

We had a date with Kubackis in Salinas; arrived shortly after noon, and our choice -- Thai restaurant YangTze had an invitingly open door, with an OPEN sign on it. Having entered under the impression that OPEN means customers may enter, a chap wielding a vacuum cleaner asked us politely but resolutely to leave, telling us they were not quite open yet, for their cook had not arrived yet. So I don't know -- is it possible to have a "partially" open joint? Unless it's one of those places rumored to only pretend to be an eatery business..

We ate at the brewery, non-drivers having one draft -- and moved on to the Airshow. There we were forced to dig in the depths of our bus for all available backup clothing -- while in our place it was slightly below 80, it was 60 and foggy in Salinas. Just as we were entering the gate, a jet fighter show was on, so we bought tickets and looked forward to Thunderbirds. We shuffled slowly past the stationary displays of aircraft. Lisa very much wanted to sit in a helicopter, and so we were to stand in a line. Just as I was lifting my kids up to the cabin, some woman came by and began discussing with the pilot that they were going to pack things up, for Thunderbirds won't be able to fly on account of low visibility.

A giant stone head watches a parking lot in the valley; one of the small white dots is our bus.

Pinnacles is our closest national park.

For a while we were hoping the woman was wrong -- but eventually it got officially announced. This had been a serial disaster. We had driven ninety miles (one way), paid ten dollars for parking and forty for the show, to see only one serious jet!

After a hot summer, the Indian one came. Nights are cold, afternoons swelter, and so I keep putting cloths on my kids and shortly thereafter stripping them off. We had seen first few rains at the beginning of October. Juniors were ecstatic -- finally a reason to grab their umbrellas. We were wondering what to do in such a weather -- and resolved to take a train to have a family lunch. It rained for only one day, and Sunday was open for a trip.

We targeted Point Lobos this time, choosing our obligatory trail to the only one accessible little beach in the north side. It had taken us almost an hour last time, while today the juniors ran through it all in about twenty minutes. It surprised us, but we had to admit that lately our children have been hiking quite expertly, covering relatively great distances. Finally our trips become more varied, now that we don't advance at the pace - from a twig to a pebble. Lisa made a scene at the beach, claiming the waves were too big, and squealed every time the surf had reached any closer than ten feet away.

Weather kept us suspended: the Rubber Duck Race in Walker - in Eastern Sierra - was planned for twelfth of October. A week before the event the weather-guessers were swearing by a beautiful forecast for the weekend -- high seventies during the day, forties at night -- and so we kept on hoping to camp out there. As the race drew nearer, the forecasts worsened. On Thursday they began expecting a few inches of snow for Bridgeport -- and we canceled our plans. It was apparently the right thing to do, as the ten thousand feet passes had turned into a mess and had been closed for several days.

While we wheeze, our children merrily rush up stairs carved into stone

Top excitement: abyss is this beautifully bridged.

Instead we chose a one-day trip to Pinnacles. This is our closest National Park, not too exciting in summer due to being excessively hot. As soon as we start heating our house, Pinnacles become a lot more attractive. Originally we considered our usual wimpy walk along a creek and through some caves. In spring, hikers must wade through ankle-deep water in the caves; now there were no signs of anything wet. However, encouraged by our juniors' performance at Lobos, we opted for a real hike -- the whole Juniper Canyon Loop. A guide estimates is to 2 - 3 hours, with 1,215 feet elevation span, altogether 4.3 miles long, and pronounces it very difficult. Some years ago we made it with baby Tom on our backs and found it very nice -- and besides, we know they tend to play it safe in a guide.

We had reached the place by noon -- kids immediately began to merrily dig in the dry creek bed. It did not take much effort though, to convince them that a hike would be more interesting. The second part of our ascent was a bit more boring, for one keeps on marching in switchbacks among bushes, but we kept our team in good spirits by a promise of a picnic. A cold wind blew up on a lookout, and we found a shelter behind a rock, leaving a bench with a far view to more weathered tourists.

The most interesting section was awaiting us, hugging the tops -- over stairs and bridges carved into stone walls. I can disclose right away that I was the only one had an ugly fall during the whole trip. It happened on a completely flat portion of the trail. A rock rolled under my foot and I flew for several yards. My sprained ankle hurt like a thousand devils, and among the many stars in my vision, faces of my descendants gradually appeared. They both demanded to provide first aid and since they reached an (incorrect) opinion that I had bruised my knee, Lisa jumped on my hurt ankle and blew on my knee. I did not know whether to scream with pain or laugh hysterically. Eventually I managed to convinced my self-appointed medics to continue on with our hike. Sid helped me get up, Tom declared that he would rather hold me by my hand so that I won't fall again, Lisa had to ape him right away, and the expedition proceeded on.

Right at the first small steps we met a lady with two girls (about 8 and 10 years, respectively), who were turning back for they had found this section too difficult. Our kids ran for the stairs with zest -- and Lisa did not relent even after finding that the stairs were still too high for her and she had to resort to using all four limbs. A bridge followed, more stairs, and then platforms leading down again. I would not consider it anything dramatic -- our kids really enjoyed this trail. Cold wind represented our only real problem; we had to put on all our extra layers.

While Lisa is still descending on neck-breaking steps, Tom is shortening his while by making a bridge

Tommy has just rescued Lizzy, who had pretended getting stuck in a difficult terrain.

Our way downhill lead through more switchbacks, with one improvement in form of a tunnel -- our engine Thomas ran through the tunnel several times. At one point Tom complained that he was "somewhat tired", but then they continued with Lisa in fooling around. As soon as we reached our car and proceeded to collapse in its seats, the kids demanded to be issued their trucks and excavators, claiming they don't want to go home as they need to play some more. We have apparently reached a stage whereby our descendants can easily tire us out -- Sid and I had been feeling our strained muscles for several days afterwards; juniors had been completely fresh.

We wanted to close our trip with a dinner at the aforementioned Thai restaurant YangTze - inside it's a weird combination of China and Thailand - in Salinas. Having entered at six fifteen, we placed our orders -- and waited. Half hour. Forty minutes -- a waiter brought two fried rolls (spicy therefor inedible for kids) saying they were sorry to be falling behind, our food would be ready in a moment. Another twenty minutes passed -- our hungry children began to lie down on our laps, as their usual bed time was approaching. So we got up and drove home. I don't understand why they could not tell us right away that preparations would take this long -- they robbed us of one hour of our time, but even then we had not received our meals. This place (if your add our Airshow experience) had definitely been stricken from our list.

Now we keep hoping it would get warmer, snow would melt, and the weather-guessers would luck out in their optimistic forecast for the Eastern Sierra. We missed our Rubber Duck Race, but I'd love to visit my favorite spot before our way gets blocked by snow definitely for the next eight months.