I haven't been to Sugar Pine since 1962 when I finished my CIT training, but oh the warm and wonderful memories! It was my favorite little piece of this Earth despite cedar rash we got from sitting on cedar logs around the campfire in the "greenies" uniform we were all required to wear, short shorts with a mitty type short-sleeved top. We hiked past a spring house where Mark Twain was reputed to have written to a tiny waterfall where with a washcloth pinned to the bottom of our swimsuits we slid into the pool below. All this beneath the majestic Sugar Pine trees that scented our air. Though we had to wash our laundry in the stream (what environmental conciousness?) and be on the lookout for cows that could step on us when wandering through our on-the-ground sleeping area, it was magical. At 75 I'd gladly take to the ground again just to be able to sing at that campfire and fall asleep under the whispering pines. Eileen...
   Read moreMy Aunt Blanche ( of San Pablo, CA ) worked up there ... 1950's / 1960's ... for...
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