The Road to the Sun

Dear world left behind. This is a little taste of some dinky high desert towns. Some may call them dwellings but I like to think of them as a fly on the wall. These places have seen so much and been through some wild weather.

If only the mountains could talk.

If the hills had eyes?

After spending the first several days of our long awaited camping voyage in the rain, we discovered that the closest place in driving distance with some good camping and glorious sun, was going to be Lake Tahoe. So, off we went.

Did I mention that while driving down the freeway (we've only been freeway driving the bare minimum) just after leaving The Black Bear Diner in Yreka, some crazy lady driving next to us was honking and carrying on. "What the bloody hell is she going on about?" Of course, the top of our "THULE" had blown open. For those of you that don't know what that is, it's a light weight plastic tub, shaped to look like it could go real fast if it needed to. After we pulled over, saw that we had lost two whole pillows, real cozy ones, and squabbled enough about who closed it last, know that we should get straight back in the car, keep driving and not talk to each other, I than realized that there was a great possibility that I didn't see our real, REAL cozy blanket.

Oh well, at least we got to stop and get a Mr Whippy ice-cream at a the wildest petrol station I've seen in a while. I got the last ice-cream of the season. I was pretty happy.

I wanted to take photo's of the inside but I was weary that there might be some wild boars about to jump out if I did. Every turn I took there was the lady shop keeper. I guess she was protecting her hard work.

So I bought a bright red bandanna instead and tied it around my neck.

Just a little town in the middle of somewhere.