Through the valley of chocolate colored soil that holds crops so lush and abundant, we looked down field roads with no end. A minor catastrophe - the GoPro camera broke from its housing and bounced off onto the side of the road. An about face and a walk along a corn field that towered above us found it. Amazingly it still works, but it broke from its attachment. No more fish eye pictures.
As the heat began to build, small towns in Calaveras County dusted by and Mark Twain references began to appear. Through Jackson and San Andreas (faultless), we arrived at Angels Camp. The setting for Twain's "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County", this little town, that lived and died on gold, did not let you forget it's claim to fame. Frog references and statues were everywhere. The high school marquee boasts that the are the Mighty Bullfrogs. Unfortunately, the frog jumping contest was held in May. I think we'll have to return.
Our adios to the Sierras took us from the heat of the valley into yellow grasslands backed by the brilliant blue sky. Then into fresh mountain green. Again, this range amazed us with prickly rocks erupting from grassland to serene blue lakes tucked into cliffs.
A tip from a random biker we met at a water stop led us to secluded Woods Lake. We picnicked by a mirrored lake, mountains hovering. Breathing became a thought. Coming from sea level to 8000' in one day calls for a little decompression.
Up the Carson Pass, saying good bye to our new friend the Sierras, over into Nevada. Someone opened the oven door and we felt like we were the dinner. Intense heat shimmered around us as we headed into Carson for an early stop.
Apprehensive, to say the least, we head into the vast emptiness of Nevada. We are taking route 50 - "The Loneliest Road in America." Leaving at 5 to get a head start on the sun, tonight we bed down early. The pioneers did it in a wagon, so I guess I can do this on Magic!
No comments:
Post a Comment