A lovely Saturday after a long and very busy week had me itchin' to hit the road. Although that's an old, overused expression, I tend to hit the road more than in a cliche sense. Saturday was not an exception - at 8 AM I had not picked a compass heading, tending this time of year to head north or east. I was open to suggestions, and Gina had a good one.
"Why don't you make a run to The Olive Pit?" It was more an invitation - The Olive Pit is a small specialty store in Corning, CA, just a few miles south of Red Bluff on Interstate 5. We make a semi - annual pilgrimage there for olives of all descriptions - cheese stuffed, garlic stuffed, rutabage stuffed (OK, I wanted to see if you were paying attention)....olives, trail mix, olive oil, some of the best peanut brittle, which is a particular weakness; each visit I roll through the doors as a warrior, taking no prisoners as I fill a cart with goodies. Our young houseguest and I are both savage olive fiends, and she has found and neutralized my stash. This is a drive that had to be made.
Off I went by 9:30 or so. It's not a difficult drive - I 80 to I 505 in Vacaville and onto I 5 at the metropolis of Dunnigan, home of Bill & Kathy's restaurant. Highway Five is an easy drive, and one can be entertained by looking west at the mountain ranges of Mendocino County or the many wildlife refuges just east of the freeway. Traffic is light, especially on a Saturday. I made it to The Olive Pit by noon. By 12:30 the shelves had been plundered, and $120 later I had enough olives to satisfy even the most insatiable olivephile (is that a word?).
But I wasn't happy. Yes, I got a chance to get out and clear the work week from my consciousness. But I detest out - and - back drives, strolls, trips of any kind. This seemed a good day to make a long, convoluted loop of a drive. As I packed everything into the car, I knew it was early enough to drive almost everywhere and still get home before dark. Knowing the neighborhood as I do, I realized the short drive north to Red Bluff would hook me up to Highway 36 and east to Lassen Volcanic National Park, then return through the little burgs of Chester, Greenville and Belden. These are places I knew intimately, where I feel as if I were home. I spent many a summer vacation in these parts. So what a way to create a nice drive! I didn't ponder the negatives - there were none as my time was concerned, and Gina knew I wanted to get away for a long drive. I called to let her know that I'd be awhile and got a resounding "go for it!" from her. I peered into the clouds surrounding the place in the sky where 10,300 foot Mt. Lassen would be, and the clouds enveloping her summit would lead me into her arms.
Only minutes after turning onto 36 in Red Bluff, the rain started. That was good, as the birds in my neighborhood had made a statement on the hood, trunk and roof of my Corolla. The rain was light but steady. I passed the elevation markers - 1000 feet, 2000 feet....tiny former stage stops which were now sleepy places if one needed gas or something to drink - Payne's Creek and Mineral for example. Like many small settlements, these had begun life as stops for stagecoaches and, later on, buses. These days only the occasional passerby stops for anything, especially on a cool, wet spring day. As I made it past 4000 feet, the tiny drops of water drifted more randomly through the air - snow! Tiny, non - sticking flakes pattered on my windshield. Nothing stuck, as they melted off as quickly as it hit the car. The temp had dropped to 35 degrees (from 70 at Red Bluff) and I plowed on, intrgued by this spate of good luck in bad weather.
Lassen Park was only open to the Visitor Center on the south, so I motored on and into Chester a short piece later. I felt great, which doesn't always happen on my long drives. Cruising into Chester in the rain was uneventful. There was little traffic, as the summer vacationers were still months away. Businesses were closed for the season or just closed - I tried to find coffee, but as I also found in Greenville coffee was a scarce commodity in Plumas County, CA this damp Saturday.
After a drive south through Greenville (now featuring the Plumas County Charter School) I put my mind into "relax" and dropped into the wonderful Feather River Canyon (Hwys 89 & 70). The Canyon is a special place, waterfalls spilling from every crevice and crack in the sheer walls. The East Branch and North Fork of the Feather River were high and stunniing in their collective power. Although far from the highest I've seen the river run, it was not a day to launch a kayak or raft. I stopped at some of my favorite places - Twain, Belden, Tobin, Pulga - to watch a train go by or marvel at a 200 foot high waterfall. The wildflowers had started blooming in The Canyon, cementing images that I hope will carry into the work week. Driving up the hill from Pulga and into Jarbo Gap and Yankee Hill I realized I had relaxed thoroughly. Traffic was light, so there was no pressure to keep up a speed at which I didn't want to motor. I pulled off where I wanted to pull off, waited until I was ready to move on and traveled once more. This pattern was repeated all the way into Oroville.
From Oroville the trip was familiar and not nearly as enticing as The Canyon, but fertile orchards leafing out and readying for peach, nectarine and apricot season got me excited about driving back soon. Into Marysville, I followed Highway 70 to 99 where I turned south until it crossed I 5 again. This time, I took 5 through the Valley and into Sacramento, Stockton, Manteca then west to Tracy and home.
Usually, once I'm home from a 532 mile day I'm weary and just want to rest. But I enjoy sponteneity; I was excited to see The Pit, Plumas County, The Canyon...all among my favorite places, all in one day, all at 44 MPG (thanks, Toyota!) and all without incident. The amount of planning and forethought put into the journey consisted of filling the gas tank. Everyone should take a day like this once in a while - make a circle, see your state, country, world. With each loop, each new exploration, each addition to your self confidence and knowledge base comes a desire to see even more. And as anyone who knows me well will tell you, the road can be an educational, entertaining, wonderful place to be. All it takes is a tank full of gas and the freedom to leave convention for a few hours. Hey, meet you in Mt Shasta? Oh, HECK yes!
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