I can’t say that the joy of retirement has completely sunk in yet, but it’s the little things that make you realize that your life just might be changing for the better. We chose the scenic route from Ali’s farm to Downieville. Hwy 89 led us leisurely through the Shasta-Trinity National Forest and brought us to Lassen Volcanic National Park around dusk. The park was empty on this Sunday night and we took our time weaving past the glacial rock, bubbling caldrons and a wee black bear.
With no real schedule and darkness arriving we decided to hit a gravel road and pitch our tent. We enjoyed a quick meal of grilled farm fresh veggies on the Coleman and busted out the plastic wine glasses and Grocery Outlet $2.99 wine bottle. (Oh yeah, and the harmonica) Ahh, the great out of doors. When suddenly there came a deafening loud crash of trees and brush in the woods only 20 feet from our camp chairs. Brig yelled fiercely at what had to be a gigantic bear. I threw my wine, dropped my harmonica and was in the car with the doors locked before you could say bear. The noise stopped, I poked my head out of the car door and Brig tried to convince me through nervous laughs that it was just an owl. Yeah right. I carved out a small hole in the stuffed backseat and spent the night in the Subaru.
Tuesday morning landed us in Downieville, population 370. It's a beautiful town in podunk California on your typical pristine river, surrounded by the mandatory huge mountains. We found a bearless campsite perched on a cliff and spent the day riding the twisty, steep singletrack for which they are famous. The next morning we blew that joint to drive a whopping 90 miles to Truckee. A longer bike ride near the Boreal ski area took us past amazing views of Castle Peak and down rocky, technical and really fun singletrack.
Wednesday afternoon and we are on the “Loneliest Road in America” headed down to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Colorado City here we come. Under the Banner of Heaven anyone?
With no real schedule and darkness arriving we decided to hit a gravel road and pitch our tent. We enjoyed a quick meal of grilled farm fresh veggies on the Coleman and busted out the plastic wine glasses and Grocery Outlet $2.99 wine bottle. (Oh yeah, and the harmonica) Ahh, the great out of doors. When suddenly there came a deafening loud crash of trees and brush in the woods only 20 feet from our camp chairs. Brig yelled fiercely at what had to be a gigantic bear. I threw my wine, dropped my harmonica and was in the car with the doors locked before you could say bear. The noise stopped, I poked my head out of the car door and Brig tried to convince me through nervous laughs that it was just an owl. Yeah right. I carved out a small hole in the stuffed backseat and spent the night in the Subaru.
Tuesday morning landed us in Downieville, population 370. It's a beautiful town in podunk California on your typical pristine river, surrounded by the mandatory huge mountains. We found a bearless campsite perched on a cliff and spent the day riding the twisty, steep singletrack for which they are famous. The next morning we blew that joint to drive a whopping 90 miles to Truckee. A longer bike ride near the Boreal ski area took us past amazing views of Castle Peak and down rocky, technical and really fun singletrack.
Wednesday afternoon and we are on the “Loneliest Road in America” headed down to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Colorado City here we come. Under the Banner of Heaven anyone?
1 comment:
I would have had to change my pants.
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