The pumice part of the nickname is actually true, since the house is built of bricks composed of Mono Craters pumice mixed with cement. While hardly palatial, this humble dwelling occupies an historic place in the battle for Mono Lake.

After spending three summers camping out around the lake, David and Sally Gaines began a futile search for a place to rent in Lee Vining, where demand for rental housing always exceeds the supply. However, a lot with two small houses was for sale. Escrow closed in January 1979, just in time for the Gaineses to learn about the phenomenon of frozen pipes.

David and Sally moved into the "front house" (pumice palace). The four room abode also served as the Committee's first office and information center. One of the canoes that David used to give canoe tours on Mono Lake still rests atop a weathered rack on the house's north wall. The "back house," a conglomeration of different buildings, was used for intern housing. The houses switched roles in 1983 when the Gaines family moved into the back house after extensive remodeling and the birth of their daughter Vireo.

Since then, the pumice palace, in its role as "the intern house" has been home to an astonishing array of humankind ranging from tie-dyed-in-the-wool hippies (who wouldn't be caught dead without every Grateful Dead live bootleg recording known to be in existence) to a president of her local Reba McEntire fan club. It has been called home by such diverse luminaries as Everett the human gull (who could exist for months solely on chips and salsa), Alkali Flat, Esteban, the Playa Princess, Shannon de Spring, and the Desert Peach.

To a wandering person of seasonal lifestyle who values eccentricity of design over luxury, the intern house speaks of home. The rough-hewn wood paneling and exposed beams invite free expression via posters and pushpins. The shelves by the door have traditionally been reserved for the display of treasures gathered during journeys of personal exploration throughout the basin. Feathers, rocks, and coyote bones are commonplace. While a cougar skull probably takes first prize, my favorite was a piece of worm-sculpted pine which resided on the second-to-the-top shelf. In the flickering glow of candlelight it resembled a miniature grove of sand tufa, inviting your imagination to take liberties in interpreting its intricate shapes.

The kitchen has seen culinary endeavors ranging from the Sublime (Mike's burritos, Linda Lou's pizza) to the Ridiculous (Elliot's overflowing cascade of soybean froth, Bug's fried kutzavi (alkali fly pupae)) and the Asphyxiating (my Kung Pao chicken, with blackened chiles). Sitting on one of the benches in the kitchen's cozy dining nook over an improvised meal is where I have really gotten to know the interns. Tales of campus life from around the country, discussions of environmental ethics, the relative merits of various Neil Young albums, and questions about that particular dude/babe who works over at the Forest Service have taken place time and again over that table.

Over the years, many people have done work to save Mono Lake that most likely would not have been done had the Gaineses not provided them with a place to hang their hat, a shower to wash off the brine, and a woodstove to dry their socks over. I hope to see many of these folks again at the Grand Reunion. For those interns who do return and revisit the intern house it will truly be a home away from homecoming.

Gary Nelson is the Committee's Canoe Tour Supervisor. In the early days he was known to visit the intern house cookie jar before tours.