During the recent Labor Day weekend, me and the missus had occasion to visit the tiny hamlet of Green Valley Lake, located in the outer cosmos of the mountaintop communities. Boy, do those Green Vallians ever know how to throw a party… yes, as a matter of fact they do.


“There’s a party goin’ on right here, a celebration to last throughout the years, so bring your good times and your laughter too, we gonna celebrate your party with you. Come on now, let’s all celebrate and have a good time. Celebration, we gonna celebrate and have a good time. (“Celebration” – Kool And The Gang – 1980).


The occasion was their Labor Day Hawaiian Luau. And what a party it was, replete with live music from the Deep Creek Band, beer, popcorn, more beer, orange crème soda pop and street tacos from Tye Dye Tacos… hey, wait a minute, I thought this was a Hawaiian luau … I shoulda worn my Mexican shirt and sombrero instead of the Hawaiian shirt and Maui hat. Oh well, the tacos were nice… oh, and did I mention the beer?


The mid-80s temperature and snow (actually, it was snowing white flakes of ashes from the El Dorado Fire in Oak Glen) on Sunday was so much cooler than down the hill in Crestline and Lake Arrowhead… never thought I’d refer to Crestline and Lake Arrowhead as “down the hill,” but they truly are DTH compared to the 7,000-foot elevation of Green Valley Lake. I only attended this three-day extravaganza for one day; any more than that would have been too much fun, a fun overload.


The 300 or so population of this mountaintop hamlet easily doubled the day I was there, with hordes of visitors opening their wallets to shower the community with cash…enjoy it while you can, Green Vallians, for soon it will be fall and you will likely return to the sleepy hamlet for which you are known.


The lake was filled with all sorts of watercraft, including pedal ducks and swans, not to mention fishermen and women and dozens of families enjoying picnic lunches along the shoreline. Folks were socially distancing themselves and most were smiling beneath their face masks, only you couldn’t tell they were smiling, but I had a hunch they were smiling beneath those masks; I know I was. And those who were not adhering to the mask rule, shame on you.


The town’s community garden was all a-bloom with flowers, fresh vegetables waiting to be eaten and frolicking children. Next door at the Black Dog Shoppe and Grille, popcorn was popping but, sadly, no burgers were frying because the owner is still awaiting her license to grill. Maybe next time. Other than the missing burgers, a good time was had by all. “We’re gonna celebrate and have a good time tonight, ce-le-bra-tion.”


Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott