I did a little video on the sauerkraut crock in our kitchen.

This beloved and beneficial garden insect definitely becomes more “bug-like” as it creeps down your shirt and up your pants should you happen upon a large colony. Find a colony at White River Campground during the summer and fall, just 30 minutes past California Hot Springs in the Sequoia National Forest.

Despite the two votes in our household that the Forest Service carve a tunnel through the massive tree trunks (that tower 18-feet as they lay across the trail), the Forest Service has decided to build a boardwalk alongside the lower edge of the trees. The boardwalk will allow visitors to experience the expanse of the Giants as they move across the area that was disrupted by the fall.

The Forest Service released their plan outlining the various proposals to reroute the trail and their decision. The suggestions are mapped in the graphic below, save my suggestion to join the trail between marker #6 and #11 (not that it was the very best idea I’ve ever had and it was delivered via a tipsy “Tweet,” so I didn’t hold a lot of hope for it).

The fallen trees are the big green rectangle, the proposed boardwalk the blue rectangle.

Though my boys were strong on the tunnel plan, we all look forward to a new boardwalk and plenty to talk about in our weekly visits to the Trail. As a memento of our days at the Trail before the fall, we have discovered a video in our family archives — “The Boom Boom Bridges,” bridges I honored in my previous report of the fallen giants.

This Thanksgiving treat was made with fresh apples from an apple farm on See Canyon Road near San Luis Obispo, California. (Check out the recipe.)

In our time there, we discovered that there are areas along the half-mile trail where tourists like to congregate, creating a natural rhythm to the short hike. In a one-time visit to this historic trail, it would be easy to miss the flow of the Trail and the importance of the two famous and now-fallen trees.

Trail marker #1 is the first opportunity to explore a Giant Sequoia up close and walk through the hole in the bottom of the tree left by a fire. At this tree we tell people that the black sticky stuff is not actually ash from the fire but a scar created by the tree protect itself from more damage. Giant Sequoias are nearly fire-proof as a result.

At trail marker #3 you will find a limb struck by lightening that impaled itself in the ground and stands sticking up like a tree unto itself. Most people pass #3 without realizing what they are seeing. My boys and I make a point of stopping tourists and explaining excitedly, “If you hear thunder while you’re here, run!”. We do take our own advice: I have myself run out of the grove with a toddler in a backpack as lightening flashed.

Marker #4 offers a cluster of trees you can squeeze into and find yourself in an open room with only one redwood exit. Early people used such trees as pens for geese and other animals. My older son was in the “goose pen” one day when we met a man walking real live geese.

Marker #9 is the next natural place to congregate. It has offered two trees grown so close together that their base became one. The trees stood in a well-lit portion of the path and a fire 200 years ago burned out a portion of their base. The light against the deep black color of the scarred Giant Sequoia made it a perfect spot for tourist pictures. The nearby foot bridges made the area particularly quaint.

Through much of 2010 the trips to the Trail with my toddler son involved walking straight to marker #9 and walking back and forth over the wooden bridges listening to the echo of our own footsteps. “Boom! Boom! Boom!,” said the bridges to the delight of my toddler. We spent hours listening to our steps and I took many pictures of tourists that summer posed in front of the two burned trees. We named the bridges affectionately: “The Boom Boom Bridges.”

Those tourists may never know that they are pictured in front of trees that are no longer vertical.

One of the two trees at marker #9 has been leaning for some time, but we noticed a dramatic change in mid-August. My mom, toddler, and I headed to the Trail early one August morning to take pictures of the fire debris that threatened the grove in late July. As we approached marker #9 we were struck by how much one of the trees was leaning. We stood back marveling at the angle and wondered out loud why we had not noticed it before. The morning light shone bright on the leaning tree making the angle hard to miss. “Maybe it’s the light this morning. Perhaps it has been leaning this much all along.” Not appreciating the significance, the leaning tree only made its way into the side of one of our pictures.

In our picture from August, you can compare the angle of the Giant on the left side of the photo to other trees in the redwood grove. In just a six week period, the massive weight of the tree worked together with gravity to break the shallow root system of itself and its redwood companion. The two trees fell together on September 30. The crushing sound was captured on video by a tourist as the trees fell, destroying a “Boom Boom Bridge” and a significant portion of the Trail.

“Boom” indeed. Marker #9 at the Trail of a Hundred Giants is in deep need of revision.

Forestry leaders are looking for public feedback on what to do about these fallen trees. The tree bases tower 18 feet and block a significant portion of a trail that had been accessible by wheelchair and, when no tourists were present, by young boys on scooters. How will Sequoia National Forest recoup this accessible trail? Should the trees be removed from the grove entirely? Should massive saws cut out slices that cross the Trail to allow people to pass? Ought a tunnel be carved out through these immense logs? The Forest Service is seeking feedback.

I put the question to my 9 year old son who has likely been to the Trail more than any 9 year old on the planet. Lately the Trail has been boring to him. The fire this summer got his attention and was good for a couple of complaint-free hikes. Holiday weekends work well too because he becomes a tour guide of sorts helping others discover the best trees to squeeze into or the easiest way to climb roots of other fallen trees. However, in August when we noticed the leaning tree, we left him home to play video games, to our disgust. This week I described to him the fallen trees and the new dilemma faced by the Forestry Service. I laid out the options for making the Trail accessible again. He lit up at the idea that there might be a redwood tunnel on the Trail, fully accessible to wheel chairs (and scooters). His young brother agrees.

It makes you wonder if the real reason for the fall of the two Giants is a kamikaze-like attempt of the Trail to compete with video games. The Trail will certainly have a new, exciting rhythm, at least for two boys.

There will be a public meeting at the Trail on October 22 at 10 a.m. so that people can see the fallen Giants and discuss the possibilities for making the Trail accessible again. Two young boys will be there, with a renewed sense of excitement, casting their votes.

These compost bins house spring-time grasses and other miscellaneous yard waste. What they are missing is strong guys with free time to turn them. We are growing our own: two boys, aged 9 and 2. We’ll see how they do as field hands.

We enjoyed this soup while filming the video course on bone broth and soup-making which you can find for free this summer on our Facebook page.

Liver pate wrapped in thinly-sliced zucchini makes a fine meal.

A symbol of summer and perhaps my favorite flower.

We had a long season of grass this year here in beef country. There are definitely “happy cows” in California.

Oh, how the sunset gives everything a new look, even these 25-year-old falling-apart and rat-infested utility cabinets made of plywood by my non-carpenter father. I should take a picture of the inside in full day light.

The garden had a late start with cold temperatures through May, but it was worth the wait. The harvest begins.

Located in the southern Sequoia National Forest, this fully handicapped accessible trail winds through a grove of Giant Sequoia trees. Among these massive trees, a small child runs back and forth across a bridge saying “Boom, boom! It’s a boom, boom bridge!” and, somehow, gets more attention from tourists than the trees.

Clean out the chicken cavity and stuff it with an assortment of vegetables and herbs. Cook until done. Eat.

Chickens really do need leaders because these chickens at our son’s home school charter school are as close as this toddler has gotten to chickens lately. Our own chickens learned first-hand about the “state of nature” when a large animal tore open their outdoor run and marauded their coop at night. We are now chicken-less for the first time in years.

It is a great science project for middle schoolers: place a raw egg in vinegar for a couple of days and the vinegar will eat up the mineral shell and leave you with a squishy raw egg protected only by the egg’s membrane.

On a lark, we used all of the vinegars in our household and a cheap red wine as a “control.” What was amazing is that one of our vinegars wasn’t actually vinegar. Check out the video:

When I have lived in the city, I have missed the nightly sunset opportunity we can take for granted here. Wherever we are here in the Sequoia National Forest, we nearly always get a spectacular show. This evening we enjoyed the sunset from the foothills. That is pasture fencing in the foreground, a common place here in beef country.

Pictures do not capture the exquisite flavor of this bison broth and roasted eggplant soup using a bison sauce made from a small bit of bison fat. The broth may have been the best I have ever had, combining the richness of marrow bones and the not-too-strong flavor of bison. My regret is that I didn’t have a large party of friends to taste it, just to have witnesses. However, that did leave more soup for me. We are working on posting the recipe on the bison brothpage.

In the meantime, if you need a great meal, I would try to find some bison marrow bones. (These bones can be mail-ordered from here.) Heck, if you are a prisoner on death row and are choosing your last meal and have managed to find our brothel kitchen for advice, I would put this soup on the short list.

I am glad we suck the water out from 200 feet under our mountain top only to let it percolate back down again.

We sit here in summer swelter just trying to remember that we once needed sweaters.

Pictured is the west side of the “Little House,” built originally as a servant’s quarters to serve the main house. My mom lives in this former-servant’s quarters now. Perhaps mentioning it in the context will get me into trouble. We will find out if Mom reads this website. Of course, I type all of this from a room that was a bedroom in a brothel.

It is hard to imagine the market for brothels when it is 100 degrees.

“Hokey, small-town, and super-cool” is how I would label our annual 4th of July Parade.

It is my favorite event of the year.

It is Monday in Pine Flat (east of Porterville), population 150, at 10 a.m. Don’t be late. It won’t last long.

Carrots were extra garnish in our pureed soup which we devoured as we filmed our video course on bone broth and soup-making.