On the Road Again

It’s been almost 4 months since the rig has had any exercise, but it was rarin’ to hit the road about 7:30 this morning. Our intended 7;00 .m. start was delayed by a latte stop at Starbuck’s. Doin’ what we can to keep the company afloat after hearing 600 of their stores will be closing. Understandable. Do you spend $5.00 a day on coffee or do you put it in the gas tank?

Depressing to think that in April we were paying about $3.39 for gas, and hating it.
Not liking to look in the rear view mirror and see the money blowing out my exhaust, I throttled back to 60 mph most of the way today. Made for a pleasant, no pressure drive. Looks like most of the trucks are doing the same.

Before the smoke thickened, some beautiful sunflower fields dazzled along I-5, sun-seeking heads pointing at the sun. (Do they unwind during the night???) Manicured rows of green and gold.

Crossing the Lake Shasta bridge, we entered the far northern California time warp, instantly being transported back a couple of decades (an anomaly we discovered in the 80s while living in Y-rikka). Peeking over the edge of the bridge, houseboats were beginning the holiday binge as the water drained out of the lake. Steep shorelines of bare red earth were a reminder of the spring that wasn’t.

Coasting along the Upper Sacramento River, I was again reminded of childhood vacations, obsessively spending entire days sitting on a rock and floating a grasshopper or a salmon egg downstream. 10 trout limits were common.

Pulling over at the outskirts of Mt. Shasta, we disconnected the Honda and drove to McCloud for a reconnaissance mission to check out the housing for the annual golf soiree’ in September (Men’s Mountain Golf – 10th Edition). A “new” lodging house for us, the Fihn Inn, passed inspection. Great digs. The rest of McCloud is hanging by the fingernails, no doubt stung by a diminishing crowd of recreationists, who have opted for a ‘stay-cation’ at home rather than venturing into the wilds of Siskiyou County.

We finally closed out the day, pulling into the Friendly RV Park, nestled among fast-food joints and truck stops in South Weed. Trees obscured the satellite view, so we’re hooked up to cable tonight to watch the Giants-Cubs game. Janice continues to fight a bout of the ague or the grippe. Her cough is appropriate for a truck-stop. The smoke has thickened outside, likely from a fire in Happy Camp (now there’s misnomer—if you’ve ever been there.) The nearby mountains (Eddy and Shasta) have disappeared from view.