Lake Skinner

Sun 3.14.2004


After Wilson Creek, we drove to Lake Skinner for a hike. It is the home of Temecula Valley Balloon and Wine Festival, taking place ever summer since 1983.

Snow-capped mountains off distance accompanied us parts of the country roads. I would guess those were St. Bernardino Mountains. Trails in the recreation area were still closed due to forest fires last October, we were told. So, the alternative would be paths along the lakeshore.

It's only mid-March. The inland sun had already possessed scorching power. The wines we tasted not too long ago also bothered me. Good heavens, I had 3 or 4 sips. (It's a very bad idea mixing up alcohols and outdoor adventures.)

The hills were green and the water was calm. The simplest thing I'd always enjoy failed to impressive me at the moment. We didn't even cover 100 yards around the lake.

Families were having picnics and some were fishing in the lake.

"Maybe we can rent a boat." John suggested.

Motorboats and pontoons were the choices.

"Do you have canoes? Rowboats?" John asked a rental office clerk.

"You can row with this." The clerk pointed at a metal "vessel" without a motor.

John looked blank.

"We'll give you something to row with." The clerk continued.

Without saying much anything else, we turned around. Before we left, the photos on the rental office walls caught our attention. Guys with huge stripers, bass, and other fishes proudly presented their conquests in Polaroid's. Some of them were from Long Beach and Riverside. Hmm, I didn't know people had come as far as Long Beach.

Sometimes, John is such a romanticist. He would insist on having a wood craft and row our ways into the water, undisturbed by the noises of motors. Well, we've got arms to paddle. Why not join the nature with natural (physical) strength? We weren't in a hurry, were we?

In view of level lakeshore paths boring and no boats to row, we followed the roads we came, back to Old Town Temecula. In the historic district filled with Old West nostalgia, we found ourselves snacking on Corporate America hot dogs and root beer floats. There's nothing charming about it.