Pie in the Sky

Pie in the Sky

Noel Laflin

3-30-15

Although our old summer camp and the well-known restaurant down the road both opened for business around the same time, back in the mid-1950’s, one would outlast the other by twenty years.  And, as excruciatingly sad as it was to lose a beloved home-away-from-home, maybe it was best that camp faded first; for had it been the other way around, the thought of Ahwahnee staff men (and women) not ever again partaking in the pure bliss of that first bite of a Lloyd’s burger or indulging in a slice of the greatest strawberry pie on Earth, would have been a far greater crime perhaps.

   

Lloyd Soutar, founder and owner of that famous mountain eatery, died fifteen years ago this month.  In fact, had he lived, he’d be turning one hundred years old come December.  But, for the sixty-five years that he called Running Springs his home, and throughout the half century that he ran the World Famous Lloyd's Restaurant, it could be argued that the man nearly single handedly help put that small mountain community on the collective radar of Southern California.

His mother made those huge strawberry pies by hand in the old days – upwards of sixty-five pies every weekend, or so it’s told.  Lord knows how many more the establishment was selling once word  got out as to just how good they were.

Lines used to form out the door on many a Friday or Saturday night, as Lloyd's was THE  place to dine if you found yourself in the mountains anywhere near Highway 330.  In fact, when that famous road  was officially completed and the Lieutenant  Governor himself was on hand for the festivities, the man overseeing the ceremonies was Lloyd Soutar.

In the early days, Soutar put on a free Christmas feast for the entire town of Running Springs.  Old timers speak of the ice sculptures adorning the tables, everyone’s favorite dishes being served, and the lines that not only went out the door this time, but down the road all the way to the fire station as well.

With such a reputation preceding it, it was only natural that employees and honorees of every mountain retreat in the vicinity, including those of Camp Ahwahnee, knew of Lloyd's and its great grub.  If staff members went missing on any given weeknight, chances were they had snuck out for a burger and slice of strawberry pie.  If someone had transportation and you had a few bucks to spend on a Sunday morning, Lloyd's enticed you with their killer Spanish Omelets and a side of Sheppard’s bread, toasted and slathered in butter.  If one’s folks or girlfriend came for a visit, well, there was only one place to eat, of course.

 

And, so it was in just such a spirit that the camp director, Gene Bergner, his wife, Gladis, and I went out to Lloyd's one final time together back in the late seventies, prior to Ahwahnee’s closing.  It was a fine meal of course – topped off with fresh strawberry pie.

But as we left the old familiar parking lot for the drive back to Ahwahnee, we were faced with the worst fog that any of us had ever encountered.  The thick mass had made its sudden, smothering move on the mountain like an old grey thief in the night.  It robbed us of all sight – including the very road leading us home.

It was so thick, that we could not even see the yellow line on the highway.  Gene had to walk in front of the car waving the fog away with his left arm in order to find the dividing line - all the while keeping his right hand on the hood of the vehicle as I gently eased it down the highway.  Gladis turned in her seat and kept an eye to the foggy road behind us as I tried to watch for headlights coming from ahead.  There were none approaching from either direction fortunately as we slowly – ever so very slowly - inched our way up Highway 330.

 

And, then, just like that – the fog broke.  Stars shined overhead, trees were visible in our headlights, and the road was free and clear.

Gene hopped back into the car, and Gladis smiled as she turned around and looked forward once more.  We all gave a collective sigh of relief and laughed, telling one another that this was one night out that we’d always remember.

As we headed back to familiar territory, I took a final look in the rearview mirror.  Lloyd's was hidden from view, still shrouded by the thick grey clouds swirling about the mountain.

But on the way home the next day, the World Famous Lloyd's Restaurant shone brightly in the early morning sunshine (the once treacherous fog now a thing of bad dreams), beckoning me to pull over and have one more take at a fresh cup of coffee and maybe partake of a Spanish omelet with a side of toasted Sheppard’s bread slathered in rich creamy butter …

I was so full by the time I left, I ordered the strawberry pie to go.

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