[Mid-October] A co-member of a writers group reminds me that when in a boat on the ocean, the coast does not approach; rather one approaches the coast.
Good enough. But when in the outback of Sierra County traveling west from Yuba Pass on a road only identified alpha-numerically by the Forest Service, and when chugging up hill on a dirt and gravel logging road at the east edge of the Lakes Basin, the Alp-like Sierra Buttes do rise in front of me as I near the crest. So, just as the coast approaches, these alp-like mountains grow and evolve before my eyes, capturing more of my breath with each meter of elevation gain.
A stop to absorb the majesty and a quick, reorientation glance at the map. The area at my feet, I find, is daubed with alpine lakes and traversed by countless miles of roads to explore. Somewhere through this area is the old Henness Pass toll road; the route worn-out and disheartened gold miners took to escape the disappointment of the Mother Lode in search of the silvery riches of the Comstock.
Gotta take that one. Must return after the spring melt.
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