On My Way Going

The most direct route over the Sierras to Spindle Camp was on Highway 49, as in the 49er gold rush and all that history. It's crazy windy and so not well traveled, but it was a perfect day on Thursday with almost no traffic. The northern terminus of Hwy 49 is just West of us.
I'd say click for big, but instead I'll do it for you. Those aretes are indications of the glacial age that also occurred here. The Great Lakes weren't the only ones to have one, you know.
I got caught in road construc-
tion delays three times so that I didn't get to Downieville until 2:30. This is a gold rush era town that is quaintly preserved thanks to its remote location. It also has no eating establishments opened on week days until the summer.

I ended up buying a dry packaged sandwich at the gas station store with packets of mayo and mustard. I adopted a picnic table on the bank of the confluence of the Yuba and Downie Rivers, spread the dressings on the bread with my finger, and listened to the river and songbirds while I ate. I could have done worse I realized.
How small is Downieville you might ask. This single lane bridge that spans the Downie River is Highway 49. If it were to go out, "none shall pass." Quick - what movie is that from???

I'm disappointed to realize that I didn't take a single picture of Thursday night. We were a small group of eight for dinner. I realized Thursday morning while I was packing that I didn't have anything for dinner and that I wasn't going to be passing any stores. I decided to throw together a quiche using the baby asparagus and oyster mushrooms.from our CSA basket from the day before. I almost think quiche is cheating because it's so easy and people are so impressed. We tossed all our foods together Thursday evening and I got raves. It's the best say to cheat. Sue brought lamb chops from her own lambs. She sat in the circle with us while they cooked in her camper, when suddenly the pan and chops flew out the door as if she had a poltergeist. I guess that happens when the camper isn't quite leveled. It's am image I won't soon forget.

Eva and I were the only ones in our cabin that evening. We sat up and talked until 11:30 that night and then more enjoyed more conversation on the deck with coffee the next morning. It turns out she's an alpaca breeder and a friend of our neighbors Jeanette and Kaye. And I think I'm going to be one of their alpaca fleece judges this year. I'm not sure. Mim handles it and gives me my samples at some point. It's a small world and we called Jeanette to let her laugh about it with us.