Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Columbia State Park California - March 2019


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Hanging With The Teds 
 

It was a shock when we started to load items into the camper. I found a cobweb along the floor where we stow the backpacks. I climbed in the truck to back it out of the garage to fill the water tank in the camper. The battery was dead. When had we last used the truck? January 28th, six weeks earlier. Really? How could this be? The answer was winter. The storms began February 4th. Three storms in two weeks dumped over three feet of snow each storm blessing us with over nine feet of snow in February here at home. It will go down in history as Februburied. Power outages, trees down, unplowed roads, schools closed were the norm. Add in a mass of tourists coming into the mountains "to see the snow" and it turned the event into utter chaos. Stopped by the closure of the main highways over the Sierra Nevada, they spread out on the secondary roads like ignorant sheep. Google maps on their "smart" phones directed them to alternate routes that did not exist or would be days before being plowed. Traffic stopped completely. Tourists climbed out of vehicles and spread out, a wave of ants. Three snowboarders started down our road until lit up by the work lights on our tractor as I was blowing snow. An eighteen wheeler, trying to get around chain controls, slid out on our main street, hit a tree, and took down power lines. A transit bus joined in and took its place in the ditch. Fist fights broke out. Emergency response, if needed, was near impossible. One friend had his garage door tagged by urban graffiti jerks. Trash and human waste covered the once white mantle of snow. Unbelievable. Februburied. 









































The storms continued. "Cabin fever" and going "stir crazy" were continuous topics. We wished for a short break with clear weather so we could get away - could we dare hope for warm spring days?  The opportunity came mid March. With a new battery in the truck, we were off for two nights, close to home but out of the snow. We would visit the Mother Lode gold rush town of Columbia along Highway 49, a California State Park.



An exciting addition to the trip was having our friends, The Teds, join us. A few months back Ted developed pain he thought was from injured ribs. Unfortunately the source turned out to be cancer, news none of us ever want to hear. The pain was so bad Ted could not lie down and he slept in a chair for months. The chemo appears to be working as it has brought a quick, much needed lessening of pain; so much so Ted can now lie down and sleep in a bed. For the Teds, this meant a return to camping with being able to sleep on the camper's mattress. And it was Ted's birthday!



The test flight required a spot close by, easy to get to, with something fun to do there. That's how we decided on Columbia. On Friday we headed to the Tuttletown Recreation Area on New Melones Reservoir, a Bureau of Reclamation campground close to Columbia. The Lady and I found and secured two adjoining campsites, above and away from most other sites but right next to an empty ADA handicap site. What were the odds someone would use that campsite? It seemed so perfect.



The Teds arrived late afternoon and we settled in, relaxed, told stories, caught up. A pair of ospreys worked on their nest below our campsites. Quail's "Chicago" calls serenaded us into the evening. Dove's mourning tones whispered through the leafless oaks. The weather was delightful, not too cold, not too warm. The half moon above filled the sky with light.



The roar of boats began the next morning at first light. The Lady woke thinking she was on the runway at a busy airport. Ted said they were bass fisherman and explained further that the bare minimum was 500 horsepower for boat propulsion, less than full throttle was an insult to your machine and other motorheads. We found refuge by leaving.




Columbia was wonderful. The Lady and my last visit was around 30 years ago when we helped with a school trip. Ted told us about his last visit. Ted was a kid, his father a pilot, and his dad flew them in a small plane from Napa to Columbia. His dad wrote a story about their trip that appeared in a magazine.




The women went on ahead, probably concerned Ted and I could get into mischief.












Our first topic of conversation was speculation about how many fires did it take before Columbia invested in brick buildings.












Columbia suffered through several fires. A clay deposit was exploited in nearby Springfield to make the bricks used in most of the buildings.



































Columbia sat on a massive placer gold deposit buried in an ancient river channel. The town grew from tents to wood to brick. Columbia never quite died but was bought by the state in 1945 and became a preserved historic site and a living museum.




An area for learning to pan for gold caught Ted's attention and he went to work.











A young woman in uniform, a park interpretive ranger, welcomed Ted and I to Columbia as we stood outside a small hotel. You can guess our question for Ann, the ranger.












"One story goes," Ann explained, "that this establishment only had cots and not beds, so it was a cotage. The second story goes that they didn't know how to spell."

"Why don't you correct it to cottage," I asked.

"Oh, we must leave everything historically accurate," she answered.




We had a similar conversation with Ann outside one of the fire stations.












Ann told us she was leading a tour of the town. We gathered up the girls and then met Ann in front of the museum for the tour.












Several children were along on the tour and Ann did a great job of introducing them to the early days of gold mining and life in Columbia.




















She then led us into one of the general stores.




























Ted found treasure in one corner of the store.












We finished up the tour outside the aforementioned fire house as Ann described firefighting equipment and techniques. One tidbit she added was that Columbia bought a fire engine that was initially built for Papeete, Tahiti and it could be seen inside the other firehouse.




































Columbia has the usual collection of shops, street musicians, and docents in historical attire.



























































































We bought sandwiches for a leisurely lunch and continued our wanderings.




































I came upon a rooster with exquisite neck feathers I could use for fly tying. I wondered if the rooster would be missed. The Lady counseled me not to take the chance. The rooster knew what I was thinking.












The Lady wanted to visit the old school house.




































Outhouses stood outside the old school house. I wondered aloud about the origin of placing crescent moons on outhouse doors. Ted, so knowledgeable about so many things, explained that the use dates back to colonial times in America. The moon designated outhouses for female's use and males used outhouses designated with a five pointed star cut into the door. None of us knew why the star dropped out of use. Do any of you?












We visited the nearby cemetery, always an interesting stop.



































We returned to the center of Columbia.












Ted looked for me in the jail.












A Model A club from Modesto had driven up for the day.




























Ever wonder how the word "trunk" became associated with automobiles?












Our visit to Columbia was perfect for this weekend getaway. We were so glad to have the company of the Teds.












We had one stop on our way back to the campground - Jackass Hill where Sam Clemens - Mark Twain - wrote The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, and began his career as a legendary American writer and humorist.
























Dinner and evening conversation back at our campsites finished off a wonderful day.












Alas, our last night at the campground included many of the unsavory aspects of sharing space with questionable fellow campers with little idea about common decency and courtesy. No need to add much more other than the night was relatively salvaged with a drive to another location, far away from our handicapped neighbors - an evacuation with our campers still popped up.



The campground was pleasantly quiet the next morning. Few boats roared to life at dawn. We suspect most were hung over and still asleep. The sun was warm and felt so good as we watched a pair of raccoons in a nearby oak. After breakfast we said our goodbyes and started home.




We thoroughly thank The Teds for their company and friendship and we were so pleased we were able to get together for this weekend trip. We are pulling for you, wish you the very best, and look forward to many more camping adventures!