Anticipation

Have you ever noticed that the picture of the burger in the ad is always perfect? The lettuce is green, the meat juicy and perfectly formed. The cheese seems to glisten from some unseen light. Why do the advertisers go to such lengths to make sure the picture is perfect? The answer is simple: anticipation. They want you to anticipate the pure pleasure you will experience when you bite into that delicious-looking burger. Half the fun of the meal becomes the anticipation factor.

Anticipation is such an important part of my family that it begins each year around Christmastime. It starts with a question posed from one adult sibling to another. “Are you going to make it to Almanor this summer?” The answer is an inevitable, “Yes.” And the anticipation begins.

In my family Lake Almanor is not a spot on the map tucked into the mountains of Northern California, it is an event that is anticipated for months prior to its launch. It is a unit of time that measures the end of one year and the beginning of the next. Almanor is not a place, it is a memory of the past and an anticipation of the future. Most importantly, it has been a summer tradition for the last 25 years. Although our activities around the lake have evolved as a new generation has taken over, the months of planning and preparation still exist.

As a father on my own branch of the family tree, I now see it as my responsibility to pass the anticipation factor on to my own children. Since the trip up north usually takes us two full days on the road, we are all dying for the outdoors when we get there. We have really worked to create a love of the outdoors in the hearts of our children, so when I asked my four-year-old daughter what she liked best about the trip, her answer was simple, “I like sleeping in the trailer because it have-is none sheets for my bed.”

For my son, swimming in the lake has always been one of his highlights, but this year, he has something new on his mind. This year, he is finished with kindergarten and he can’t wait to get to the lake so that he can sit in the trailer and read a book. In an attempt to get him to see beyond the pages of a book, I asked him what is the most important thing to pack for the trip? I should have guessed his answer. “Lots of books!” So much for the great outdoors.

My youngest daughter will turn two right after we return from Almanor. She really doesn’t know what to expect, so maybe I still have a shot at convincing her that the fresh mountain air, tall trees, and sunshine make the long trip worth the effort, but I have a feeling that once she tries a milkshake from Pine Shack Frosty, she’ll be hooked.

Maybe next year when gas hits ten bucks a gallon we will just march out to the backyard and spread out the sleeping bags in the trailer while we sip on milkshakes and read about other families who like to camp.