From the crest of the hill, it looked as if the giant checkerboard stretched for miles. Squares of various shades of green, brown, and gold alternated across the gently rolling hills and valleys. It was an endless sea of color with nothing to obstruct the view. A constant breeze led in the dance twirling and dipping the grain. Green and amber waves of grain rolled sequentially with a random ripple here and there as another gust of wind cut in to join the waltz.
The colors faded into monotonous tones of golden brown. In the distance a giant grasshopper appeared. Soon it was joined by others sporadically scattered across barren land sparsely clothed in dry grass polka dotted with prairie dog holes. Some of the grasshoppers stood motionless while the heads of others rose and fell. It looked as if they would take flight at any moment.
To a little girl experiencing this scene for the first time, it was like peering through the back window into a prehistoric world when giant insects and dinosaurs ruled. In fact, not far from the giant grasshoppers was a lone dinosaur running alongside the road.
There was treasure hidden beneath the uncultivated dry, hard ground. The giant metal grasshoppers knew – Black Gold – oil, that is.
taken from Listening for God by my Guest Author, my Daddy
The County Surveyor lived in Big Timber. He liked the sturdy log houses and wrote a letter asking Father to meet him in town to discuss ordering some logs. The meeting would take place in a back room of the Big Timber Cafe. Here the men could discuss the building project without any interruptions. On the appointed day Father loaded us in the Whippet touring car and we went to Big Timber. At six o’clock we were escorted into the reserved meeting room at the Big Timber Café. The children were told not to make any noise that would distract the men as they did their business.
We were just finishing up our soup ‑ a dish that was served with every meal except breakfast ‑ when a neat little man walked in. The waitress came and took his order. My sisters and I became silent so as not to disturb a potential customer. Slowly we realized that we could have made all the noise we wanted. We could even slurp our soup, and Mr. Bussey wouldn’t hear us. “He is stone deaf,” someone explained to us.
When he finished his meal, Mr. Bussey came over and sat at the end of our table. “I want a set of logs,” he said. He spoke loudly. “Can you get some dry ones like they used in John Moss’s house.” “Won’t have any trouble with that,” Daddy said. Mr. Bussey didn’t hear Father’s reply and thought that Father had not heard him. He spoke louder. “Can you get me some logs like you got for Moss?” Father answered. “We can start working on it in two weeks” Bussey looked rather alarmed. “They don’t look weak to me.” “No they will be good logs. Just let me know what you need.”
Again, Bussey didn’t hear Father’s answer and wondered if Bud Ward had heard him. He raised his voice. “Need? I need logs, house logs, and some rafters, and joists, and window framing.” “We can do it.” “That’s what I’m going to do.” His voice shook the room. A waitress pushed open the swinging door and looked at us questioningly.
Bussey shoved a paper across to Father, and mumbled. “He can’t hear a word I say.” Then he shouted at the top of his voice. “I’ll get Blufford Blye to do it. I just want you to get the timber.” Father studied the paper and shouted back, “We’ll get it by the end of the month.” “LOGS, HOUSE LOGS!” Bussey leaned over, cupped his hand around Father’s ear and shouted louder. “CAN YOU GET ME THOSE HOUSE LOGS?” My father’s face quivered. His eyes opened wide. Then he nodded his head, wrote down some pricing figures and handed to his potential customer. The deal was made. Bussey smiled and turned to Mother. “Better take him to a doctor,” he said, “I think his hearing has gone bad.”
We were sad to say goodbye to Aunt Betty but were anxious to be on the road again. It wasn’t long before we were seeing the vineyards of Napa Valley. Rows of lush green grape vines seemed to stretch for miles over the California hills. It was a stark contrast to adjoining uncultivated land that was harsh and dry. We drove through the famous valley and toured one of the wineries. It was fascinating to see the fermenting process and barrels of wine aging in the cellar.
A short distance beyond, we merged onto Scenic Highway 101 that runs for 1540 miles along the Pacific Coast from the Golden Gate to the tip of Washington. The highway passes through the world’s tallest preserves of old growth redwood trees, some of which reach 300-350 feet high. They are unlike the massive thick-trunked redwoods in Sequoia and Yosemite National Parks in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. There are 31 redwood state and national parks. There are even three live redwoods you can drive through.
Driving through Redwood National Park is like going through an enchanted realm. The road winds through clusters of redwood groves. Giants that rise straight and tall are kings in this Redwood kingdom. They make cars look like toys and people look like ants. The redwoods fight for survival, drawing life from the fallen. In one of the Redwood groves, we saw twelve trees growing out of one downed tree.
Coastal Redwood trees
We hiked one of the trails at The Trees of Mystery in Klamath and saw the Cathedral Tree which is made up of nine trees growing out of one with their tall spires that reach to the sky, Elephant Tree and various other sites. When we returned to the museum and gift shop located at the parking area, we heard someone say “hello” to the girl with the brown flannel shirt. That was me! I looked around and didn’t see anyone it could be. Well, no one except Paul Bunyan, and 50-foot statues don’t talk – or do they? Apparently, there was someone inside Paul Bunyan. Babe the Blue Ox stood next to giant lumberjack, but he didn’t say a word.
The coast of Northern California is gorgeous. Charming coastal towns invite travelers to explore their shops and dine in view of the Pacific Ocean. Crescent City is one of the towns where we stopped. Effects from the tsunami of 1964 could still be seen.
Further north high rocky cliffs jut out over the ocean. There is really no way to really describe the jagged shoreline. Waves crashed against the cliff walls and echoed like dominoes tumbling along the beach.
My mother was a fabricholic. Her addition was so severe, my father hesitated to encourage her in even the smallest manner. He would, on occasion, take her for a quick fix and would sit and watch people as he sat impatiently by the door of the fabric store. Mama walked down every row and satisfied her compulsion to touch every bolt of fabric. I think my father felt a bit guilty for being an enabler of her addition, but it was for his welfare to indulge her a bit.
At least once a year, in July, I gave my mother a birthday gift certificate redeemable for lunch and a trip to the fabric store. The closer we got to the store, the more excited she was. Even before she walked into the store, she already had her eye set on something. She was free to feel as much fabric as she wanted. Every piece of material she saw was analyzed with a touch of her fingers. Every color imaginable drew her gaze as she created quilts in her mind. Her selections were made, and she was happy.
Daddy got the day off all by himself. He could make his split pea soup green muffins for lunch if he liked and climb on the roof with no one to scold him. I thought it was little sacrifice for me to give him a reprieve. Besides, it wasn’t so bad following behind Mama down the rows. I could reach out both arms and feel the fabric on both sides all the way down the row.
Hmmm.. I’m starting to twitch and I think I’m getting an itch…….
Though California has a lot of people, there are still large portions of untamed wilderness and treasures of nature worth more than gold. From the golden sands of the desert to the fields of golden poppies, to golden sunsets over the Pacific Ocean, to the Golden Gate Bridge, to the abandoned ghost towns of the gold rush era, the state is full of wonder.
Our car did require a bit of maintenance along the way. It was a minor expense but that’s why we had our emergency fund. It was a short drive from Santa Monica to Santa Barbara which was our home for the next few days. Our visit there was a good one. We had good food and it was always fun to see Aunt Ellen. Though we didn’t get to see her often, we heard stories of her almost weekly. We got to spend some time with Indian Charlie, aka Willie, aka Billy, and his family. We visited them in their home and shared a picnic on the beach for Aunt Ellen’s birthday on July 4. That called for us going into the Pacific. It was very cold, and the seaweed wrapped around our legs like a giant sea monster grabbing us trying to pull us under the waves. That was enough for us to remain on the beach lined with seaweed. We also visited family of our current mayor who was living in the area. Downtown was just a short walk, so we went into town, visited Aunt Ellen, took in a movie and other sights.
Another cousin was next along our path for a one-night visit before we headed into the Sierra Nevada Mountains and to Martinez where we stayed with Aunt Betty. While there, we made an overnight trip into San Francisco and stayed with a former student of my favorite teacher. He worked nights and slept during the day. With a guide of places for us to visit, we crammed as much into the day as we could. Morrison’s Planetarium, Japanese Tea Gardens, Botanical Gardens, Fisherman’s Wharf, Golden Gate Bridge and Lombard Street, the curviest street in San Francisco, were a few of our destinations. Just a note – cable cars have no respect for vehicles or persons. Sister tried to outrun one. It’s a wonder we even survived. Our host said it wasn’t safe for us to take in China Town by ourselves, so he was our guide. We ate at an authentic Chinese Restaurant, visited little shops and saw lots of interesting sights. San Francisco was probably the most diverse melting pot in the state. We saw people of every kind, color, religion, and race.
Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco
We also made a trip into Yosemite National Park and to see the Giant Sequoias. Yosemite is in bear country. All through our campground were signs. We were very cautious about not leaving even a small morsel of food in our camp site. The park was absolutely breathtaking. Just seeing Half Dome standing tall and seemingly impregnable is worth the trip. We took various hikes in the park. One hike was to Mirror Lake. We packed a lunch and hiked up the trail. As we got closer to the lake, I noticed reflections through the trees. When we reached the end of the trail, it was evident what caused the reflections – cars. There was a parking lot! We could have driven there. We needed the exercise anyway. Our picnic lunch was very tasty after the hike and the view was wonderful. After a semi-dip in the lake, we headed back to the campground. We camped there for two nights and headed back to Martinez for a couple more days before heading off again, stopping to experience the Giant Sequoias. Unless you stand under one of them, it’s hard to imagine just how big they are. I think majestic is the best way to describe these ancient giants.
That’s not the end of this tale. More to follow……….
