My younger brother has done two pretty amazing things this year, (I’m sure many more, but two I now have photographic proof of).

In the fall he started a new job (a new career really) teaching high school history. Not only is this an all-around awesome occupation, karmically speaking, but it sounds as though he’s really found his passion.

Today we got a backstage pass to see the man in his classroom:

But that wasn’t enough to sate him, oh no. He also decided to buy a house! I really don’t know how he did it. The first I heard any mention of the idea was at the end of September, and by Halloween he was a bonafide homeowner. Since then he’s been cleaning, painting, moving in, teaching, furnishing, and hopefully doing some settling.

Without further ado, here is the man and his house! So cool.

After discovering our Zipcar had a dead battery and waiting for someone to come pop the lock and “boost” it, Stephanie and I drove up to Healdsburg (along with everyone else in northern California) to pick up Jean-Claude and Sabine and head north to Lassen Volcanic National Park.

Getting from Healdsburg to I-5 is not exactly a straightforward endeavor, but from there it was pretty much a straight shot up to Red Bluff, where we exited onto CA-36 towards Chester.

As soon as we arrived at the hotel, I plugged in the crockpot to start heating up the Thanksgiving gumbo we made from scratch the night before. In the meantime we cracked open a bottle of wine and started playing Apples to Apples. The gumbo was good, very hearty, great with the pre-cooked wild rice we’d brought along from Trader Joe’s.

Friday morning we took our time getting up (yay vacation!), bundled up (it’s cold here!), and headed in the direction of Lassen (volcanoes!). Lassen felt practically abandoned. There was no one at the park entrance, and the trailhead/campground parking lot after the entrance was blocked due to construction.

We could only drive on the road through the park up to the Sulphur Works—the road beyond that point had recently been closed for winter, rendering a majority of the sights (including the radly-named Bumpass Hell trail) inaccessible until next summer.

But we did get some neat sights (and smells) of a few steaming and gurgling sulfurous thermal vents. This one in particular sounded like a demonic washing machine, and occasionally burped up some gray goo.

After some indecision about what to do next, we invented a parking spot near the park entrance, and crossed over some “hard hats required” barricades to get to the Southwest trailhead. From there we hiked about 1.6 miles down to Mill Creek Falls, which we caught illuminated in the near perfect mid-afternoon sun.

A perfect spot for lunch, but we didn’t rest long because it got pretty cold when we weren’t moving—the temperature was in the 30s and most of the ground was frozen. And so back out we hiked.

On the drive back to Chester we took a detour to peek at nearby Lake Almanor. Very picturesque at sunset, but very cold and windy in November.

Second cousins Mark and Arthur were in town for separate conferences, so along with their sister Christy, we met up for brunch at the Market Bar in the Ferry Building. Had good eggs and bacon in the unusually warm sun, and then walked down to the ballpark to kill some time before taking a ferry to go winetasting in Alameda.

“Winetasting in Alameda?” you say, “They grow grapes over there?” Well no, but there are a handful of wineries that make wine within walking distance of the ferry dock, something Christy and Marcus recently discovered. I know, news to me too.

Stephanie was getting tired and had dance rehearsal later in the day, so she took off for home. Marcus met up with us, and we all hopped on the ferry towards Rosenblum Cellars. Christy and Marcus liked the wine so much on their first visit that they became members, which meant we all got to taste 9-10 wines (including some on their “reserve” list) for free.

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Oh Canada! So weird to be driving into a foreign country. Last Sunday (while in Buffalo, New York for my Grandfather’s 90th birthday) the whole family entered Canada via the Peace Bridge to visit Niagara Falls.

From there we drove up the Niagara Scenic Parkway, leisurely winding our way along the river to the Falls. Below is our first sight of the mist rising above Niagara Falls (and the plethora of hotels on the Canadian side).

We found parking and made our way down to a spot just across from the American Falls. The little chunk of falling water on the right is actually a separate waterfall, the Bridal Veil Falls.

Then we walked over to view the Canadian side of the Falls, popularly known as “Horseshoe Falls” due to its iconic U-shape.

Note: If you have any interest in buying a print of these photos, please don’t hesitate to send me an email.

I had no clue the Maid of the Mist basically “drove” into the bottom of the waterfall. Something we’ll have to do next time.

It was amazing that we could stand so close to the edge of the Falls. The lip was mere feet away. I could almost touch it.

We all took an elevator down to the base of the Horseshoe Falls for the unbelievable views and deafening roar from below. Of course we also got unbelievably drenched by the mist.

Me and Stephanie in our yellow plastic bag “mistcoats.” Hawt. I mean haute.

Afterwards, Stephanie, Dad, and I drove downriver, north of the whirlpool, and hiked into the gorge created by thousands of years of the Falls eating away at the rock. I found it very interesting to learn that in the future:

the falls will eventually recede far enough to drain most of Lake Erie, the bottom of which is higher than the bottom of the falls. Engineers are working to reduce the rate of erosion to postpone this event as long as possible.

I had a faint and somewhat intimidating memory of doing a similar hike when I was much younger, so I was keen to revisit the scale of the whirlpool and the gorge. Turns out it wasn’t nearly so scary. I seemed to remember being afraid of getting sucked into the water. I’m sure at the time my parents strongly emphasized not going near the river—due to its strong and unpredictable currents.

Panoramic view the river within the gorge (created with hugin)

Update, May 13, 2011: Due to the popularity of this post, I went back and cleaned up the text, wrote captions, and added the ability to enlarge the photos. Thanks for reading.

Things slowed down considerably once we got to Nice, which was good because we were pretty tired after our adventure in getting there.

This was the family reunion part of the trip, a week to spend with Stephanie’s mom Chris, her younger sister Aurelie, and Aurelie’s partner Michel. This was kind of a big deal since it had been over three years since Stephanie had been to France/Nice and over a year since she’d last seen her mom and sister.

We spent the first two nights (Saturday and Sunday) with Aurelie and Michel, sleeping on a sleeper-sofa, but given its tendency to sink into a U-shape, we decided everyone would be more comfortable (personal space-wise as well) if we spent the rest of the week in a small hotel within walking distance. Plus they had wireless internet!

Aurelie played mom to us, which seemed appropriate as she’s expecting a baby girl in July. One night she made a potato gratin (hachis parmentier), another night sausages with lentils and vegetables. This was Provence comfort food, and it made us feel very much at home. Bread accompanied every meal and cheese followed. Every night there was some kind of dessert, frequently fresh strawberries and sugar.

The trip was also notable as Chris had just moved into her own studio apartment in Cannes 10 days before we arrived. Previously she’d lived about 45 minutes northwest in a small town called Fayence where Stephanie’s grandmother lives, in fact in a house right next door. Her new apartment is very cute, brightly painted, looks recently built, and has a separate kitchen and an enclosed patio that I think is bigger than the apartment itself. She seemed very happy.

We went to the big mall in Nice, CAP 3000, on Saturday because the weather was unusually gray and rainy, but after that, contrary to the Météo, the weather was cool, sunny, and the sky was blue for the rest of the week. The other major shopping excursion during the week was a trip to Carrefour, France’s version of Target with groceries, to take care of Stephanie’s list.

On Sunday Chris hosted a lunch party for Stephanie and invited all of Stephanie’s old dance friends, many of whom are still dancing, as well as her old dance instructor, Angelo.

On Monday the weather was stunning, so Aurelie, Michel, Stephanie and I went to Antibes for a walk on the coast where we got some amazing views of Nice. Here was my first real view of the water, taken from the car.

And here’s a shot looking back towards Nice from just past the crazy building you see in the previous picture.

Beach view from Antibes

For lunch I had sole meuniere. It was good.

Here is everyone together at the end of our little coastal hike.

On Tuesday Stephanie, Aurelie and I drove to Fayance to visit with their maternal grandmother and Tante Dodou (aunt). This is a place where Stephanie spent some time growing up, so coming back was sort of like returning to her childhood home. We didn’t have much time to explore the area, but we did go into the town and hike up to the highest point.

On Wednesday Chris, Stephanie, and I drove along the coast from Frejus to Cannes, stopping along the way to take in the incredible views. The rocks were so red it reminded me of Arizona and Utah.

Who knew this is what France looked like?

Cote d’Azur Panorama

That night there was another dance reunion of sorts. Stephanie dropped in to an adult jazz class taught by her old teacher Angelo, and still attended by several of her friends. Her mom and I sat on the sidelines and watched. Afterwards we went out for Thai with Angelo and a few friends. Much of the conversation (all in French) centered around Stephanie’s current break from teaching dance and Angelo’s future desires as a choreographer and teacher.

Note: in real life, we just got home tonight around 9pm pacific time. I think that means we were traveling for about 24 hours. Exhausted.