tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108484894893232702024-03-18T03:02:49.911+00:00The Long Horse Ride BlogFrom Beijing to London between the Olympics and beyondMegan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.comBlogger557125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-306032602207697392019-05-12T21:26:00.001+01:002019-05-12T21:26:14.613+01:00Stanfords here we come.Life has been even more frantic than usual, with (among other things) our eldest daughter's wedding (marquee and other delights in the garden), involving days of preparation and celebration, not to mention monumental clearing up afterwards. Iestyn then immediately disappeared to Kenya to deal with his charity Challenge Aid, leaving me to deal with a houseful of bed and breakfast guests.<br />
<br />
As a result, I have not blogged about the Welsh launch of the book which was held at the Confucius Centre in the University of Wales, Lampeter - very apt, as it was where I took my first classes in Mandarin Chinese in preparation for the ride.<br />
A big thank you to my cousin Sir David Lewis, coincidentally Lord Mayor of London at the time I started the ride, for giving such an eloquent introduction.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX31Y10wCLvUXwm0Zr_dMfOvv-aWLoJ3RuBwI1wOVkMBgCxKs55RpVom-TlCtDSe2_cRuvY0HC89E453QCFaohR_lt9btFCDs_gn4bSdAgjPlyM1tXeGEF97XFvCm-hHiT_gS9Wg9M9ACw/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_6297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX31Y10wCLvUXwm0Zr_dMfOvv-aWLoJ3RuBwI1wOVkMBgCxKs55RpVom-TlCtDSe2_cRuvY0HC89E453QCFaohR_lt9btFCDs_gn4bSdAgjPlyM1tXeGEF97XFvCm-hHiT_gS9Wg9M9ACw/s320/thumbnail_IMG_6297.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
He particularly referred to the tradition of travel and book writing in our Welsh family. My father Dr GED Lewis was a geography text book author and wrote a well received autobiography, and David has written several books on local history. Also thank you to friends, relatives and others for turning up and even forking out for a copy. Meirion Davies, head of Gomer publishing pointed out that both David and I had a mention in another book (Wales - China: 250 years of history) available for purchase at the same time! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHmrxpXhoh6MRt2DNU-76ysH1G4WDIIxVavIlVCGxJx_7IGXB8Jm2AVwO5WTiottGuMN16Kg8LvotlR62s63IiMtgA9juLMnOn-57obhuSbJ0lTFXAe4rUOMBk3lcR3Ud4vuoysTUKy0s/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_20190409_192543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHmrxpXhoh6MRt2DNU-76ysH1G4WDIIxVavIlVCGxJx_7IGXB8Jm2AVwO5WTiottGuMN16Kg8LvotlR62s63IiMtgA9juLMnOn-57obhuSbJ0lTFXAe4rUOMBk3lcR3Ud4vuoysTUKy0s/s320/thumbnail_IMG_20190409_192543.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHmrxpXhoh6MRt2DNU-76ysH1G4WDIIxVavIlVCGxJx_7IGXB8Jm2AVwO5WTiottGuMN16Kg8LvotlR62s63IiMtgA9juLMnOn-57obhuSbJ0lTFXAe4rUOMBk3lcR3Ud4vuoysTUKy0s/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_20190409_192543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
Thank you to Branwen and Krystyna for organising the event, and to Krystyna for her informed questions during the Q&A session.<br />
<br />
We are now gearing up for the London launch of the book at Stanfords bookshop in Convent Garden at 7-8.15pm on Wednesday 22nd May. Hope to see you there!<br />
<br />
<div>
http://www.stanfords.co.uk/event-the-great-wall-of-china-on-horseback-58861408056</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com83tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-14146058243925256742019-04-04T15:18:00.000+01:002019-04-04T15:18:23.313+01:00I am now a published author!It has been a long time since I last posted on my blog, mainly because I have been using my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheLongHorseRide/">The Long Horse Ride facebook page</a> for keeping everyone up to date. So for those of you who are not avid followers of my facebook page, here is the latest news. <br />
<br />
Over the last couple of years, quite apart from catching up with life at home, I have been writing up my travels, or at least the first leg. Having sat down in front of my computer to bang the keys when I got the chance, I found that 55,000 words down the line I had not even reached the end of the Great Wall of China. Well it did take around five months to cover the 1,500 miles distance from end to end of the wall, not including time out for planning and injury, and this was quite a feat in itself. The upshot is that my first book is an account of tackling this leg with all its setbacks and excitements, and it is unsurprisingly called, wait for it, 'In the Shadow of the Great Wall'.<br />
<br />
As both my cameras were out of action at the time and I had to rely on my mobile phone, here is a rather hazy photo of the proud author with her first copy of the book hot off the press ..<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS07DLYpN4TZJUdP38NpeRRJQQCTNhixDTM1f9-V9WcnuP2Sv0t7l2ClRYl_y25hqCk7rp4OyQ08LFzljzim01JJCzsbNZCE7BE9LIQBH4bvwgp-a59mum23a4Zhinsa_wyignU2BOynsN/s1600/2019-02MeBookLibrary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS07DLYpN4TZJUdP38NpeRRJQQCTNhixDTM1f9-V9WcnuP2Sv0t7l2ClRYl_y25hqCk7rp4OyQ08LFzljzim01JJCzsbNZCE7BE9LIQBH4bvwgp-a59mum23a4Zhinsa_wyignU2BOynsN/s320/2019-02MeBookLibrary.jpg" width="295" /></a><br />
<br />
...and a close-up I took on the way home to show my family....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_lD8EqOjUsddjTMocWIbo0fU9k1sN7DjVI3NsXNl6f5DEGaP1WWFu3Jk62XSfUKSWQEDE_BeESlzhc3JJGyFk0rryyfG8_LlsOQhSiMBJe9wArYC5M-jDN3Tc_HIj_Q_77t3bk_RlCa2/s1600/2019-02BookCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_lD8EqOjUsddjTMocWIbo0fU9k1sN7DjVI3NsXNl6f5DEGaP1WWFu3Jk62XSfUKSWQEDE_BeESlzhc3JJGyFk0rryyfG8_LlsOQhSiMBJe9wArYC5M-jDN3Tc_HIj_Q_77t3bk_RlCa2/s320/2019-02BookCover.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
It has been published by local printing and publishing company Gomer Press, and I am very grateful to my talented editor Rebecca John for helping me mould it into some sort of shape. It is not a literary masterpiece, but hopefully will be entertaining for those who enjoy reading about unique adventures of this kind.<br />
<br />
It is currently available on Amazon UK, but also via<a href="http://www.gwales.com/bibliographic/?isbn=9781785622892&tsid=3&fbclid=IwAR3TBtt3wCY-E7sIZjcB45jAPR4nUEWNvbmXcZKSaTS8vzG-2fLeCXWEZog&session_timeout=1"> the Welsh Books Council</a> who do not insist on the same mark up as Amazon. The book launch is on Tuesday April 9th, and it should be available via good book shops after that. It will be stocked in the premier travel bookshop Stanfords, and there will be another book launch and signing there on Wednesday May 22nd 7-8.15. <br />
<br />
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-57228721652872974042017-07-16T23:53:00.000+01:002017-07-31T13:01:03.860+01:00WE REACH THE PACIFIC OCEAN!On <strong>Good Friday April 14th</strong> Mike, Bonnie and I treated ourselves to breakfast at the excellent <a href="https://www.howardstationcafe.com/" target="_blank">Howard's Station Café</a> in Occidental. As its name suggests, the café was formerly the station which was named after the landowner 'Dutch Bill' Howard, an odd misnomer for a Dane who was actually called Christopher Folkmann. He gave the right for the Pacific coast narrow gauge railway to come through here, and in return received a life time rail pass. <br />
I tucked into an amazing eggs Benedict with wild salmon, and Mike had a large omelette, before Mike drove me into Sebastopol for an interview with a local radio station.<br />
Later on Mike and I were back in Occidental, having ridden the 7 miles from Sebastopol..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX120iLPCk1kZFHAm57W4IaGTV42AKOQGQGQR2LN4Fm1IW-6o5COXUp82DmQmjz9Zs7T_AcjHeSJVeO4xH0nf8Ye_wK0hpdsj0kswWIpYPVVtr6Li8ZbJKBcgH4mwoXZyChdbP8dH282s/s1600/LeavingOccidentalClayLynchedit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="870" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX120iLPCk1kZFHAm57W4IaGTV42AKOQGQGQR2LN4Fm1IW-6o5COXUp82DmQmjz9Zs7T_AcjHeSJVeO4xH0nf8Ye_wK0hpdsj0kswWIpYPVVtr6Li8ZbJKBcgH4mwoXZyChdbP8dH282s/s320/LeavingOccidentalClayLynchedit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Photo of Mike and I riding past Howard Station Café taken by local resident Clay Lynch.<br />
Elizabeth had a stable and a small paddock waiting for the horses. <br />
<br />
I had chosen this route as it followed virtually the only quiet road I could find leading down to the coast to the north of San Francisco. It came out at a small place called Salmon Creek, just to the north of Bodega Bay, where Hitchcock's iconic film 'The Birds' was set. We drove over for a recce, and to leave the trailer in a convenient spot. I was amazed when we came over the brow of the hill into Bodega Bay to see the bay view that is so familiar from the film. It was a must to have a seafood dinner in The Tides restaurant overlooking the bay, which was used as a location for the film - here is a clip from the movie...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGd4BgHKlaFhW7dG09QpAgQ7Lfu8UbD6ejjbgzxDqsoGNx2-s4ycHNX4oSErJEky084N7NZrW998Sikcl04pjUm24w1n-sctYlXrWk1XbCs1XIldj_5po9qBemwbWAU0V0-fUvTwAneFW/s1600/TheTidesfromBirds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGd4BgHKlaFhW7dG09QpAgQ7Lfu8UbD6ejjbgzxDqsoGNx2-s4ycHNX4oSErJEky084N7NZrW998Sikcl04pjUm24w1n-sctYlXrWk1XbCs1XIldj_5po9qBemwbWAU0V0-fUvTwAneFW/s320/TheTidesfromBirds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...though it has now been expanded into an unrecognisable hotel complex....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgardNgHGJUNlkusxfQClmwZ61WX4i4VmFLa9HbE4r-iobIX3hbzWrvScCjcD_8c_j1PMeo9gjlPP98trAzFbCR8GGuvMJ3y7dZRKx32oURzG2Fio6E1WW94Blf59mtJ79WwkSCX4B4YHlG/s1600/Tides1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="1000" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgardNgHGJUNlkusxfQClmwZ61WX4i4VmFLa9HbE4r-iobIX3hbzWrvScCjcD_8c_j1PMeo9gjlPP98trAzFbCR8GGuvMJ3y7dZRKx32oURzG2Fio6E1WW94Blf59mtJ79WwkSCX4B4YHlG/s320/Tides1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I kept a wary eye on these.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy6SD6_TKSo_g3wf-UmNqJHfjTt6ETp5Iw3sfaOgJ-ud9lT_m0G_qfZ97chv6uVdnNXAK_kStMPaWDKSsNxH-qVdk_m5CiK0Io4X5dR1JnT4hk3IuKApGvNHUxtucD1sBAf2iKjjukMNa/s1600/TheBirds1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy6SD6_TKSo_g3wf-UmNqJHfjTt6ETp5Iw3sfaOgJ-ud9lT_m0G_qfZ97chv6uVdnNXAK_kStMPaWDKSsNxH-qVdk_m5CiK0Io4X5dR1JnT4hk3IuKApGvNHUxtucD1sBAf2iKjjukMNa/s320/TheBirds1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In front of the house that doubled up as the schoolhouse in the film. It is actually located a little further inland at Bodega, and not right on the coast the film scenes would suggest.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPp4ATuNtlDAwvLQx3dhYx5JqXa11JOIhmGRLi8rVAPu7AMtOXlScUYutABI1NwEBd9LIAxxxLh6rXkNGfvW62P-r9RZC7SHjLj50j2ELqyhjhbv00OB0gd6aPBpVeh7AMhIOCfQDViCE9/s1600/BirdsSchool1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="1000" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPp4ATuNtlDAwvLQx3dhYx5JqXa11JOIhmGRLi8rVAPu7AMtOXlScUYutABI1NwEBd9LIAxxxLh6rXkNGfvW62P-r9RZC7SHjLj50j2ELqyhjhbv00OB0gd6aPBpVeh7AMhIOCfQDViCE9/s320/BirdsSchool1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The next day <strong>Easter Saturday April 15th</strong> was <strong>THE DAY,</strong> and Mike and I treated ourselves to another Howard Station Café breakfast before setting off along Coleman Park Rd to the coast. <br />
<br />
Is that the Pacific Ocean I can see in the distance behind Mike and Mo?...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvApY3B36066dlhfDRGhao4vYvWNnUKh4pzIdrukXpRXJgM05QNAX-CxMVkB7xxW3W6hg_SML5BhRJsa5IFswZcgppMUY5NPkwBcWZSG5EOR5f8SNCw-8xCaiutaY38l7D81CSJYezWEV/s1600/MikePacificedit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="1000" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvApY3B36066dlhfDRGhao4vYvWNnUKh4pzIdrukXpRXJgM05QNAX-CxMVkB7xxW3W6hg_SML5BhRJsa5IFswZcgppMUY5NPkwBcWZSG5EOR5f8SNCw-8xCaiutaY38l7D81CSJYezWEV/s320/MikePacificedit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This unusual optical illusion of white lines painted across the road apparently fools cattle who are accustomed to cattle grids!...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-_Yjda9ZCIKehwlzX2NPotsN7-KCFBOs12K3H3Mb-WB1Wy8AJGjlOwaOODjc1huwTVcUELnwfqCz0rEcI1Xa0EnuAPkrlBoofF6-u8MksGNaGmuOxHNJIDHtSz61etjZD9Uquz3bIZPE/s1600/FakeCattleGrid1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="1000" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-_Yjda9ZCIKehwlzX2NPotsN7-KCFBOs12K3H3Mb-WB1Wy8AJGjlOwaOODjc1huwTVcUELnwfqCz0rEcI1Xa0EnuAPkrlBoofF6-u8MksGNaGmuOxHNJIDHtSz61etjZD9Uquz3bIZPE/s320/FakeCattleGrid1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We reach the Pacific Ocean! Salmon Creek beach stretches away to Mussel Point on Bodega Head.. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5YADgHOJp26n4wdPzVPvrUdhMCpdEmHGAe9mZhTtJzVZDaqXGxIkkcvbNl06xwce6l1ZFhX2ShNbgyEV8hnFJ9bd_5rztpyBqhL8CxkoAi23QOKmyO3VrrnYYS_syKIarW596ugVhj5S/s1600/PacificOcean1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5YADgHOJp26n4wdPzVPvrUdhMCpdEmHGAe9mZhTtJzVZDaqXGxIkkcvbNl06xwce6l1ZFhX2ShNbgyEV8hnFJ9bd_5rztpyBqhL8CxkoAi23QOKmyO3VrrnYYS_syKIarW596ugVhj5S/s320/PacificOcean1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...but we had to ride a little way south before we found somewhere to scramble down the cliff face to the beach, having received permission from a passing patrolman......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSoAvnN695uPwHVLcaqUNeicdljD-C7ZMz59r20DYlie1KbH_2-UBNj5oM0EK3WK3ks78exHsC7xcWSQkBrsvIojN-_8WLJF-YNoQZGtr2z84rB0ygMfaiNxfc3NZJB8Ebyc4THJeUvGI/s1600/BodegaBayMikeMe1000edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSoAvnN695uPwHVLcaqUNeicdljD-C7ZMz59r20DYlie1KbH_2-UBNj5oM0EK3WK3ks78exHsC7xcWSQkBrsvIojN-_8WLJF-YNoQZGtr2z84rB0ygMfaiNxfc3NZJB8Ebyc4THJeUvGI/s320/BodegaBayMikeMe1000edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Denise Gilseth kindly provided a bottle of champers, and we discovered Lady has a taste for the high life - here she is tucking into her second glass!....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfD7RjSrlNQCrFN16Js_adWjp1QftW8kuJwcZInQkWxhu2iz1tKjJHfK7qzEujwcH0M9lWyrewvzpECO6IxGk1oJvDYR9LbIjQ501lbx-bpYai5v0Ub29mLEAlo3ogF4VRrWVA5QBDdOUx/s1600/LadyChampagne1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="913" data-original-width="1000" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfD7RjSrlNQCrFN16Js_adWjp1QftW8kuJwcZInQkWxhu2iz1tKjJHfK7qzEujwcH0M9lWyrewvzpECO6IxGk1oJvDYR9LbIjQ501lbx-bpYai5v0Ub29mLEAlo3ogF4VRrWVA5QBDdOUx/s320/LadyChampagne1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-21339659108223475452017-07-15T20:31:00.003+01:002017-07-17T14:26:28.451+01:00On our last legs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ready to set off on <strong>Wednesday 12th April </strong>Sharon and British expat neighbour Anne Margadant who came over to see us on our way...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTWSR__fSCEX7fo0iPPFfANg4WLZUTg1CgX41JmfWWYb3jxLYPLC_B3GdHL6Iub5jonorLCLESmvq8BtYCssG-Ncllb9MnkPbeeqygiAAoGTa9ekwwdr7CTTwziYVxo6s0LXRaQfDmQIz/s1600/DryCreekLady1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="943" data-original-width="1000" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTWSR__fSCEX7fo0iPPFfANg4WLZUTg1CgX41JmfWWYb3jxLYPLC_B3GdHL6Iub5jonorLCLESmvq8BtYCssG-Ncllb9MnkPbeeqygiAAoGTa9ekwwdr7CTTwziYVxo6s0LXRaQfDmQIz/s320/DryCreekLady1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Lady and I still had a bit of a pull up and over the Mayacamas Range, though no danger of fire with all the rain!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Lr4fnux76a6RX2DQRQhjpFhebrSh4msgB-TPGj8rux4rJ0mNR9RuZMvNINefxypalh6aOqfA3ghtS7ith3DHCCyjt04FlLF9VZNk9kt1j_auPUWwkHxTckamucMN3DOVmftI3POEwVFH/s1600/FireDanger1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="691" data-original-width="1000" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Lr4fnux76a6RX2DQRQhjpFhebrSh4msgB-TPGj8rux4rJ0mNR9RuZMvNINefxypalh6aOqfA3ghtS7ith3DHCCyjt04FlLF9VZNk9kt1j_auPUWwkHxTckamucMN3DOVmftI3POEwVFH/s320/FireDanger1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But although the road was narrow and winding, as promised there was not a lot of traffic and we made it safely down the other side.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Stopping for a rest and a burrito near Glen Ellen on the Sonoma Highway to Santa Rosa.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWENdpJi5Liy1YGPjSWAsrFhTnTWu53dwqShryrlbp-BTcUYaiSvXvnEXw3lvslrVhBD6p4HpBiyUdqqoosXW5NDtQy8grcTFAaPHmziTKVIfM7WqKTti8MNI285Dnv0xImzD4lIJXgMf6/s1600/MexicanFoodedit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1000" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWENdpJi5Liy1YGPjSWAsrFhTnTWu53dwqShryrlbp-BTcUYaiSvXvnEXw3lvslrVhBD6p4HpBiyUdqqoosXW5NDtQy8grcTFAaPHmziTKVIfM7WqKTti8MNI285Dnv0xImzD4lIJXgMf6/s320/MexicanFoodedit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Further down the highway I came to some paddocks with horses, and a sign for 'The Pony Express'. As a horse and rider who have covered the Pony Express Trail in its entirety it seemed only natural to see if we could get overnight accommodation there, and I was delighted when proprietor Linda Aldrich appeared and welcomed us with open arms.... </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRBz1_3ET3wcijad0MMNMVJHdWnPFdLsKNmb4kdqSFmlWQ0o9IJURubWPO_kDPh-5a04VYqYfegKjkT7jUpNL-pcqOjW-v2oJUnyqiE1AfqnZbI9o34RhFvoGC0KoW2fGnKuYkorfEA4S/s1600/PonyExpressLady1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1000" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRBz1_3ET3wcijad0MMNMVJHdWnPFdLsKNmb4kdqSFmlWQ0o9IJURubWPO_kDPh-5a04VYqYfegKjkT7jUpNL-pcqOjW-v2oJUnyqiE1AfqnZbI9o34RhFvoGC0KoW2fGnKuYkorfEA4S/s320/PonyExpressLady1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady was given a field shelter with hay and feed, and Linda took me in to the house for shower and supper. My sleeping bag stayed packed away once more! <a href="http://www.theponyexpressrocks.org/" target="_blank">The Pony Express</a> turned out to be a charitable organisation initiated and run by Linda to mentor and empower teenagers with problems through building relationships with rescue horses. We had a lovely evening chatting over a glass or two of Californian wine.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The next day Thursday 13th April I set off along the Sonoma Highway ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBiZ3ZqO5efoFrCWyq1W8_XLf2nCqVEn5PRxLem-UKK3TmQjbqRUdKsfnEUHjuXSalMS2szNJ63EVhGpk3-MPoTKGQnyHMNBImfDUU8mfFXoz-t7hLAmWWPPCPXc4gXC1OZh5in9kuGVo/s1600/ToSantaRosabyLindaAldrich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="949" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBiZ3ZqO5efoFrCWyq1W8_XLf2nCqVEn5PRxLem-UKK3TmQjbqRUdKsfnEUHjuXSalMS2szNJ63EVhGpk3-MPoTKGQnyHMNBImfDUU8mfFXoz-t7hLAmWWPPCPXc4gXC1OZh5in9kuGVo/s320/ToSantaRosabyLindaAldrich.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>
..Unfortunately because of the last minute change of plan, I had not had the opportunity to research a more off-road route to Santa Rosa, though I was aware that there were better options. Once I arrived in town I was able to revert to the route I had planned out at home. Many large American towns have riverside paths which avoid entangling with traffic, and the Greenway Memorial Trail in Santa Rosa was no exception. Here you can see we have ridden underneath the 101 Freeway which runs all the way up the Pacific coast of the USA. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyH1juhAVnQh8NTUTZFAUoBkqxUv4sjI6iq4mu0Knhmyv8in7CZ8Offrk2ZzJKMUfsDlsXAxdHCtf-0ZaNWut9kK-0XVHjxPOyY7dxyLPf2vFW-jynTTyFz-bOuK4EOihzfQhmiOIu5GLR/s1600/PrinceMemorialGreenway1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="1000" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyH1juhAVnQh8NTUTZFAUoBkqxUv4sjI6iq4mu0Knhmyv8in7CZ8Offrk2ZzJKMUfsDlsXAxdHCtf-0ZaNWut9kK-0XVHjxPOyY7dxyLPf2vFW-jynTTyFz-bOuK4EOihzfQhmiOIu5GLR/s320/PrinceMemorialGreenway1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was sometimes not sure if horses were allowed on these trails, but they were so indispensable to the ease of my journey that I am afraid I followed the principle of just do it and ask questions afterwards. In the event the only time I was prevented from doing so was on the Trans Canada in Quebec. </div>
We carried on along the Joe Rodata Trail to Sebastopol, coming across occasional evidence of homelessness once more...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUoPIIchtkkb6OSahpchstLLC6Ewb0sHD5zJkYQPq-Q-iPTmgQywu0IUXgDMZwZTUGQf324GDOMm0Ysxhbk5YpfGXvmSMojhSG3XixnivZ-yKts040bPndMs0blYgzB8_HlHVNhDgd5UG/s1600/Hobos1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1000" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUoPIIchtkkb6OSahpchstLLC6Ewb0sHD5zJkYQPq-Q-iPTmgQywu0IUXgDMZwZTUGQf324GDOMm0Ysxhbk5YpfGXvmSMojhSG3XixnivZ-yKts040bPndMs0blYgzB8_HlHVNhDgd5UG/s320/Hobos1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Arriving at Lotus stables in Sebastopol... ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhakJ59cJlu1WdaeSxbyudLWu8eJPI-p6XQw_wNMwft7b9-TNCaQOkUyLqvN9PaUAh48ryMaPMkbBCo0OzCWdFhyphenhypheno-VrrYi3jS3svPvBs7cn57XGSaXH9jiHRF1ANWwdCkygAaYiug99U9B/s1600/LotusCentre1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="1000" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhakJ59cJlu1WdaeSxbyudLWu8eJPI-p6XQw_wNMwft7b9-TNCaQOkUyLqvN9PaUAh48ryMaPMkbBCo0OzCWdFhyphenhypheno-VrrYi3jS3svPvBs7cn57XGSaXH9jiHRF1ANWwdCkygAaYiug99U9B/s320/LotusCentre1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...where the horses were staying courtesy of owner Amity de Fontaine. I say horses because I had arranged to meet Mike and Bonnie here with Mo, as Mike was going to join me on the last leg to the Pacific coast. Unfortunately in all the excitement of settling Mo down with Lady (we had to put them in separate pens as he was hassling Lady unmercifully) I completely forgot to take photos of the lovely Amity and her partner. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was running a day late, but in fact this fitted in fine with our schedule, as the place we had booked for two nights just outside Occidental was only half an hour's drive away. This was<a href="http://shantioccidental.com/" target="_blank"> Shanti Occidental</a> owned and run by Elizabeth Medgyesy who had a comfortable annexe which could take the three of us. We had found her thanks to a friend who coincidentally turned out to have a friend living there! Occidental is a lovely little town with a Bohemian atmosphere set among redwood trees in the hills to the north of San Francisco. It is a magnet for people looking for an alternative lifestyle. The well travelled Elizabeth practises permaculture, and keeps some sheep which look similar to our ancient Welsh Mountain badger-faced sheep breed - perhaps they are New World descendants! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com88tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-72322100038624128142017-07-15T16:54:00.000+01:002017-07-17T14:37:16.440+01:00A drink with YaomingI was now tackling the California Coastal Ranges, a jumbled line of ridges and valleys running north to south. As I was riding east to west it had required long research to work out a viable route via the sparse network of roads twisting over the ridges. Distances were doubled, and for example the eight and a half mile crow flying distance from Pope Valley to Callistoga took me twenty miles by the only available roads! I had already faced the difficulties of not knowing whether the roads had public access or how safe they were on the ground, and this thorny issue was about to appear again. I had chosen to stay at Diamond Mountain stables as it was on a route I had carefully planned which looked to be mainly on quiet back roads. But Charlie now doubted whether some of the roads (which were on all my road maps) actually had public access, and warned me that the Callistoga Rd into Santa Rosa was narrow and winding with fast traffic and no verge. The only alternative was to take a more southerly route which would add on an extra day's travel. He kindly let me borrow their truck on the morning of <strong>Tuesday 11th April</strong> to do a recce, and I regretfully came to the conclusion that he was right. So after midday Lady and I retraced our steps south down the road toward St Helena. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvdJHPJZDKftBzi_41AVusEqf7mbU9-rSOIRZqeWRm12XElMr9IUAxmwMtCZBNSS0GLx2ugKyLkNn42bTKnRoLjYsLw9AnHUZ2QW__mew_T_75EB_l3KJssn6C121YZZPw0iv_kPNNwIr/s1600/NapaValleySign1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="1000" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvdJHPJZDKftBzi_41AVusEqf7mbU9-rSOIRZqeWRm12XElMr9IUAxmwMtCZBNSS0GLx2ugKyLkNn42bTKnRoLjYsLw9AnHUZ2QW__mew_T_75EB_l3KJssn6C121YZZPw0iv_kPNNwIr/s320/NapaValleySign1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Riding through St Helena in the drizzle and regretting the fact that I still hadn't managed to stop and enjoy a glass of Napa wine at one of the many wineries on the way (partly as I didn't have enough cash on me) I saw this by the side of the road!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_hy98qd-Rvr4D5UhGlDEHWZ0HQgoQ8sv_YqpjO9Fn2GHcBrijW0rQERS6xzTA8rhuY9gq42Fq49fqWbL40WmTj6wtKI4SnNnfY28snzuEEqUPoxOBpRECfSV6kCnNHPfIoI42LqQdahv/s1600/YaoMingFamilyWines1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="1000" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_hy98qd-Rvr4D5UhGlDEHWZ0HQgoQ8sv_YqpjO9Fn2GHcBrijW0rQERS6xzTA8rhuY9gq42Fq49fqWbL40WmTj6wtKI4SnNnfY28snzuEEqUPoxOBpRECfSV6kCnNHPfIoI42LqQdahv/s320/YaoMingFamilyWines1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.yaofamilywines.com/" target="_blank">YAO FAMILY WINES</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Was it fate or a happy coincidence which brought me to a Chinese owned winery as I neared the end of a journey which started in China?, Of course I had to take advantage of the opportunity, and manager Sheila Thomas (of Welsh extraction - another stroke of fate?) was happy to offer me a complimentary glass of truly delicious white wine from the Yao cellars to celebrate my achievement. In chatting about the company Sheila happened to mention that it was owned by a Chinese basketball player and the penny dropped. The winery had been set up by Yao Ming, renowned not only for his sporting ability but his immense height. So here I am with Yao Ming himself (it just looks like a life-size cardboard cut-out)...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRNIl8NyMsBqBwYDchyphenhyphenhb47boCfiNoAsBCEcLLXjGeCzpkd-zWrnJH8KPAdFzANq-y2gv7ZQW_QnXxJHPdVfnfLkluBCgu0v6khYMXM-w1qOLHQBeGCfAHvZYQARIBs_J9_2R-I8kR53c/s1600/MeYaoMing1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1502" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRNIl8NyMsBqBwYDchyphenhyphenhb47boCfiNoAsBCEcLLXjGeCzpkd-zWrnJH8KPAdFzANq-y2gv7ZQW_QnXxJHPdVfnfLkluBCgu0v6khYMXM-w1qOLHQBeGCfAHvZYQARIBs_J9_2R-I8kR53c/s320/MeYaoMing1000.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
I left feeling much more cheerful, but had the wine gone to my head?.......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YWBS-bjLREQKBgxih2ldsTm8e4Lsi2SAB6rvQPwMeig5n-fQ_pc1s64d_zuQms_3XBNIqgPfZ9_AajPBEwhNk4sO3Uemm6YVsKZpngsgvjZPP0TGHMG1X92TytPd8MylAqpKHOttZcMC/s1600/EasterBunny1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="740" data-original-width="1000" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YWBS-bjLREQKBgxih2ldsTm8e4Lsi2SAB6rvQPwMeig5n-fQ_pc1s64d_zuQms_3XBNIqgPfZ9_AajPBEwhNk4sO3Uemm6YVsKZpngsgvjZPP0TGHMG1X92TytPd8MylAqpKHOttZcMC/s320/EasterBunny1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
But I had to push on, as I had another ten miles to go, and a stiff climb up the next ridge out of the Napa Valley. Charlie had gone to the trouble of finding me somewhere to stay with client Sharon Hinzman, who lived tucked away a couple of miles up a magical hidden valley incidentally overlooked from high above by estate of the late Robin Williams...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5WBXOqAhmTG-RReI7r2fH_M5e8stBri3xv5U-6Rl32CEjD851NIXJVaYNQjnp2U3gXWqix6KvxzxgAyW7GlYwi_7H1TpScIe7xfLsnlCA5ZoO1cPQDEi5K9nYgTu41tReFBGjog88Lxcg/s1600/HiddenValley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5WBXOqAhmTG-RReI7r2fH_M5e8stBri3xv5U-6Rl32CEjD851NIXJVaYNQjnp2U3gXWqix6KvxzxgAyW7GlYwi_7H1TpScIe7xfLsnlCA5ZoO1cPQDEi5K9nYgTu41tReFBGjog88Lxcg/s320/HiddenValley.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We arrived as dusk fell, Sharon led Lady to a stable and hay, me to supper with wine and very congenial company.... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjidnx5c31N6g5PJZfmGzbFhO5y8zpjPPxsea3aBM3vUW8nPkIEyll35OdpBjAudluBfxXWv9wXAjBvlwqXYWTAPHBQBPcMWvjTKaUaHbbG4FAbetPMdtHjMcc9o8o9-lv9oTX-zKNKc02/s1600/DryCreek1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjidnx5c31N6g5PJZfmGzbFhO5y8zpjPPxsea3aBM3vUW8nPkIEyll35OdpBjAudluBfxXWv9wXAjBvlwqXYWTAPHBQBPcMWvjTKaUaHbbG4FAbetPMdtHjMcc9o8o9-lv9oTX-zKNKc02/s320/DryCreek1000.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-44386227814984551262017-07-15T12:19:00.000+01:002017-07-16T12:43:10.991+01:00Flight of the Condors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Sunday 9th April </strong> Pete was round early in the morning with his son Will and foreman to round up stragglers (cattle)from the hills, so they were able to give me a send off. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3XeRsOVg4MVRexHLo0CesWekGYwf1wpjfgtuU0iZhUMgkg4pd0qH6zQidQgdXroSBAAh3A1kkAo3uacMsa3CU5QfanXSkWDgWSiYmITJG9VzeBsUdSwYFH_5kTp9kAlM3m9MSqyWaLKU2/s1600/GunnRanchGroup1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="807" data-original-width="1000" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3XeRsOVg4MVRexHLo0CesWekGYwf1wpjfgtuU0iZhUMgkg4pd0qH6zQidQgdXroSBAAh3A1kkAo3uacMsa3CU5QfanXSkWDgWSiYmITJG9VzeBsUdSwYFH_5kTp9kAlM3m9MSqyWaLKU2/s320/GunnRanchGroup1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Lto R Will, Petra, Me, Pete in front of the ranch-house. Many thanks for your generosity Pete!<br />
<br />
Riding along by the lake, these two enormous birds flew down onto the fence line and I managed to snap a couple of photos before they took off again....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5cD6-8RzS0KMe4OvM1CsaFriN634OiH97xkKxL4gzy9X9-O5BxwytouaEM-3KPpdVGgPBAqOw3L_80Y7bpvW4Ry6ObGn6_V9EI-sk4XSrmVxPNIWlXQz7cbPS0JheuOhoFxh-8FdoD4oX/s1600/BigBirds1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="847" data-original-width="1000" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5cD6-8RzS0KMe4OvM1CsaFriN634OiH97xkKxL4gzy9X9-O5BxwytouaEM-3KPpdVGgPBAqOw3L_80Y7bpvW4Ry6ObGn6_V9EI-sk4XSrmVxPNIWlXQz7cbPS0JheuOhoFxh-8FdoD4oX/s320/BigBirds1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
What are they? The most likely identification is that they are young Californian condors, the largest species of land bird in North America. If that is so I have been very privileged to see them, as at one point they were extinct in the wild. Following a catastrophic decline in numbers due to human activity, in 1987 the remaining 27 birds were captured. Under a conservation programme their numbers increased in captivity, and beginning in 1991 they were released back into the wild, although the first sighting of condors actually nesting in Northern California was not until 2006.. There were 276 recorded in the wild in North America in December of last year, including small populations in Arizona and Utah.<br />
<br />
Pete had warned us that he had been held up by a triathlon taking place on the other side of the lake, and it was not long before I ran, or rather walked into competitors running to and fro along the road...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZknKPb3KDGjCFBvFQ5TI5aIJ60ZQcUTT966N-WLbEHc4nX2Se9Aks5aVdkkwbNX1tR5yHRpI0D0tUZx_aplivEy0M1-9C6hu4rpAZCOHuMQNqfSIwnGN4xD8qwLhk6XNN3fRhXm_yt2Qe/s1600/RoadRace1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1000" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZknKPb3KDGjCFBvFQ5TI5aIJ60ZQcUTT966N-WLbEHc4nX2Se9Aks5aVdkkwbNX1tR5yHRpI0D0tUZx_aplivEy0M1-9C6hu4rpAZCOHuMQNqfSIwnGN4xD8qwLhk6XNN3fRhXm_yt2Qe/s320/RoadRace1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Just to prove that I was not whinging when I complained about my freezing hands coming over the Blue Ridge, apparently thirty triathlon competitors had been treated for hypothermia the day before. It was even reported in <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4394498/1-injured-30-treated-hypothermia-triathlon.html" target="_blank">the Daily Mail</a>!<br />
<br />
Glassy-winged or not, it seems the sharp-shooters ate not too happy about this notice......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNCnjxVEHvYGTi9bYOa2RJzf_ubRNTwsqjhIMlLw3qNKNsshOkDPhY9MHI88ZE0gpCnk8ToUE6t2GWl7uoeQx4faDg_PaS8-murURj4HjjzRe1BFDUSJbsjrlBGstqBVh4Gd2GG35tuv9/s1600/GlassyWingedSharpshooter1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="1000" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNCnjxVEHvYGTi9bYOa2RJzf_ubRNTwsqjhIMlLw3qNKNsshOkDPhY9MHI88ZE0gpCnk8ToUE6t2GWl7uoeQx4faDg_PaS8-murURj4HjjzRe1BFDUSJbsjrlBGstqBVh4Gd2GG35tuv9/s320/GlassyWingedSharpshooter1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In fact this sharp-shooter would not have been fund raising for the Friends of NRA on April 1st as it is a large invasive leafhopper which is classified as a pest due to the fact that it can spread several plant diseases. This constitutes a serious threat in this area which is part of Napa county and near the world famous wine growing Napa valley.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Crossing Pope Creek in the Pope Valley, another important wine producing area though not with the kudos of the Napa valley. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQKL8CbuReTyqFEbpIf9Srr0jCaYBBNuqK_5PBWwtQq8PthVdZ3JXcBktsbJ9zThJ_5mhqBJkMVH0yZP6cl_Oe_DL6Xl2XiAVS4UusjJoF8P1gJ7fzC4fLMd4Dpx0TfEd9W2999Zg_4yO/s1600/PopeCreekcrop10000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="1000" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQKL8CbuReTyqFEbpIf9Srr0jCaYBBNuqK_5PBWwtQq8PthVdZ3JXcBktsbJ9zThJ_5mhqBJkMVH0yZP6cl_Oe_DL6Xl2XiAVS4UusjJoF8P1gJ7fzC4fLMd4Dpx0TfEd9W2999Zg_4yO/s320/PopeCreekcrop10000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My spirits plummeted when I rode into the hamlet of Pope Valley to find the little store had literally just closed, and was then warned that my intended route was too dangerous for a horse due to the narrow winding road with fast traffic. On top of this I tripped and crashed down onto my side on the road, bruising my arm and grazing my elbow. It was a rather sorry and sniffling figure that knocked at the door of a smallholding with a grassy paddock by the side of the road. But Keith Kirkpatrick was happy to take Lady, and wife Sarah turned out to be a nurse. I ended up being patched up, fed and offered use of a shower, and Keith's father Brad let me sleep in his camper. It is so often when I am feeling at my most miserable that the kindness of random strangers completely turns things round.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Keith and Sarah with daughters Livvy and Caitlin...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ35MnH4zy-qnkgsycvtbyG2ld4jzAvbLYFkGDtmVxdwAMD0ANOVIB0RInYCaDyEf-77o_VroPl49_i9iIOSDH_GhHlXo1c_Y-VT82g_wAn4ybqwTHPQdsWGHOepAwR2zM4SGK_8tD9bbV/s1600/PopeValleyhosts1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1272" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ35MnH4zy-qnkgsycvtbyG2ld4jzAvbLYFkGDtmVxdwAMD0ANOVIB0RInYCaDyEf-77o_VroPl49_i9iIOSDH_GhHlXo1c_Y-VT82g_wAn4ybqwTHPQdsWGHOepAwR2zM4SGK_8tD9bbV/s320/PopeValleyhosts1000.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Keith was a mine of local information and told me a lot of farmland is being bought up Pope Valley by the Chinese and other large concerns such as Fosters to practise viticulture. As the area is in Napa county it can take advantage of the Napa prefix. In fact Keith told me that as long as it contained a certain percentage of grapes grown in the Napa valley, a wine mixed with wine from the Sacramento valley can be marketed as a Napa Valley wine!</div>
Following general advice, the following day <strong>Monday 11th April</strong> I took a longer but quieter route up the Ink Ridge road, winding up a pretty road through woods and secluded vineyards clinging to steep hillsides...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5g7SpERuCNTwbMk8hjejZkZlAymojC2RqcfdePlA3y1sKcx88qjSTMqHgBSNLjZscryE4HyIb3Y2Jb4wwg0ilRSVgPBKLxULYvcC9_uMrlnAoodidJTKvgloX8X6YUpFHXxkAYTSQnqpN/s1600/VinyardHill1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5g7SpERuCNTwbMk8hjejZkZlAymojC2RqcfdePlA3y1sKcx88qjSTMqHgBSNLjZscryE4HyIb3Y2Jb4wwg0ilRSVgPBKLxULYvcC9_uMrlnAoodidJTKvgloX8X6YUpFHXxkAYTSQnqpN/s320/VinyardHill1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
After making our way through the hills and vineyards of Howell Mountain, we came to the famous Napa Valley. About to descend into the valley down Deer Park road...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wnbHdkXiYLebbbB8ah4C76lFxzILD0u1_-3a80GOQTeegQnxoBaqx2Agu3X2PVxko64_FXeUTe1kUyaxpsx5yjdLnBEeLRFa1DeEv8NUI5yeQBGJo-mqErMjYCEJffMIst1HjF36B3Lr/s1600/ArrivingNapaValley1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1000" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wnbHdkXiYLebbbB8ah4C76lFxzILD0u1_-3a80GOQTeegQnxoBaqx2Agu3X2PVxko64_FXeUTe1kUyaxpsx5yjdLnBEeLRFa1DeEv8NUI5yeQBGJo-mqErMjYCEJffMIst1HjF36B3Lr/s320/ArrivingNapaValley1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This was quite a sizeable and busy road with a hairpin bend, so I was glad Lady was clad in her fluorescent rug.<br />
A typically well-maintained Napa valley vineyard...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuxvwpCrV980tgtCI6OCoSWOXt92Nb28KMX6SpKmbFstbWgrhvG8JFIy-5gbgAJoRqZEQEEJHaddcjX4PP9krLVlxz936EAiinJqCSdEf1I2Sab6odl_gzP_qSeGMCAk8YiGsF27h1Hqq/s1600/NapaValleyVineyard1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbuxvwpCrV980tgtCI6OCoSWOXt92Nb28KMX6SpKmbFstbWgrhvG8JFIy-5gbgAJoRqZEQEEJHaddcjX4PP9krLVlxz936EAiinJqCSdEf1I2Sab6odl_gzP_qSeGMCAk8YiGsF27h1Hqq/s320/NapaValleyVineyard1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was heading north to <a href="http://diamond-mountain-stables.com/" target="_blank">Diamond Mountain Stables</a> near Callistoga, where I was welcomed by the hardworking Macella O'Neill and Charlie White, to the right of the photo below... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9UVkJDG3SX-M2M75t7YSNBCB5ENDaYfbRxCkij7jfJu4B1HPLN1gRRFwwNezdhbM2Tc1QgLeDAt5-fSJVXDADpulrTwITYpKuzh_aZU7peq69JE1x6H-TuH_azf5ZekrjhrwXP5se7Wu/s1600/DiamondSpr1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9UVkJDG3SX-M2M75t7YSNBCB5ENDaYfbRxCkij7jfJu4B1HPLN1gRRFwwNezdhbM2Tc1QgLeDAt5-fSJVXDADpulrTwITYpKuzh_aZU7peq69JE1x6H-TuH_azf5ZekrjhrwXP5se7Wu/s320/DiamondSpr1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Macella is a very talented showjumper and hunter-jumper trainer, and Charlie runs a thriving hay supply business. They have both been over to Europe on horse buying trips. These lovely people found time in their busy schedule to look after me, and I was treated to supper and given the use of a very plush and comfortable trailer.</div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-48065238042777115942017-07-14T11:01:00.002+01:002022-02-26T23:28:57.770+00:00Birthday GirlIt was still pouring on the morning of <strong>Friday April 7th</strong> and Petra opted to chicken out of riding until the weather cheered up. To be fair it was her birthday. On the other hand I was in for a soaking, but by the time I rendezvoused with Petra and friend Sue ten miles further on in Esparto, it was merely overcast. It was Sally who had kindly trailered me and Lady back out to Carson Sink in the autumn, and now she had volunteered to drive Petra's rig. The Esparto supermarket car park was now the venue for a little birthday party also attended by Petra's mother..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/upyEQkTV5HY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/upyEQkTV5HY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Discretion prevents me from revealing a girl's age, but I can reliably inform you that it was more than the one candle on the cupcake.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady is getting blasé about her fan club..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-Epsxpn-tdKWpiBsHuTIkTLu-Q8CkK3F-SKMklkMyYxUBIhI69hGhXc1uJlg8UlVwHJY0ToSE2hBw8znxxG6sd6mTpChVMUk8dx3uVZruJFikvjUml6qXxvjRgKIpV7mJky4B77Sj93A/s1600/FansCadenassoCrop.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="724" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-Epsxpn-tdKWpiBsHuTIkTLu-Q8CkK3F-SKMklkMyYxUBIhI69hGhXc1uJlg8UlVwHJY0ToSE2hBw8znxxG6sd6mTpChVMUk8dx3uVZruJFikvjUml6qXxvjRgKIpV7mJky4B77Sj93A/s320/FansCadenassoCrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Riding through the almond groves...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavgI5-tBqVccLVZOHIRuShU_8XVSR6sme4hbE9L3c8B9gj48xBbu1w5Qg-fku3MwoVlLhPHYJJzud4rJLbXKhUU5CcTguuZkP-OXwnqISt6ICvK1qa1R8bmjppcLpK-7uYM2BQftblXgf/s1600/AlmondGroves1000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1000" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavgI5-tBqVccLVZOHIRuShU_8XVSR6sme4hbE9L3c8B9gj48xBbu1w5Qg-fku3MwoVlLhPHYJJzud4rJLbXKhUU5CcTguuZkP-OXwnqISt6ICvK1qa1R8bmjppcLpK-7uYM2BQftblXgf/s320/AlmondGroves1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Interesting if confusing...</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUI1GzC8QaTUOmd7qwjI9k_NxlAiwzBMn3KZLYLj4f1aHiiqmiYvPbkEuHAljAtw-gKP46vWdD8Aby5jNxIrrjJBgdtHGN7sViCLvipilJ5MX54a2TqXdFdlxlFejOJd45XHZE8RWCHKBo/s1600/SpeedEnforcedbyAircraftCrop1000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="740" data-original-width="1000" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUI1GzC8QaTUOmd7qwjI9k_NxlAiwzBMn3KZLYLj4f1aHiiqmiYvPbkEuHAljAtw-gKP46vWdD8Aby5jNxIrrjJBgdtHGN7sViCLvipilJ5MX54a2TqXdFdlxlFejOJd45XHZE8RWCHKBo/s320/SpeedEnforcedbyAircraftCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Oh dear, it looks as though Petra has caught Rowena's equestrian scrumping bug....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34TvzBiy48G7SnBuJlBtiHHSFf9wWnOYrc3mxjXxcTOkhPgCbJgCY33Vt68ss5ImIqnBNsNCxRtXfEbR_LEypfhv5BlgPahCQFcvpyf45U_X88M3wHYY5Bh_FGyVF_zkqGLGyETBphHa_/s1600/PetraScrumping1000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34TvzBiy48G7SnBuJlBtiHHSFf9wWnOYrc3mxjXxcTOkhPgCbJgCY33Vt68ss5ImIqnBNsNCxRtXfEbR_LEypfhv5BlgPahCQFcvpyf45U_X88M3wHYY5Bh_FGyVF_zkqGLGyETBphHa_/s320/PetraScrumping1000.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Apart from the products of scrumping, we fortified ourselves with a birthday beer at the<a href="http://www.roadtripbg.com/" target="_blank"> Road Trip Bar and Grill</a> in Capay. They were very excited to hear what I was up to, and I left weighed down with a selection of goodies including a Road Trip sweatshirt. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We camped near Cadenasso by a corral up a small side road. During my research at home I had noticed that it appeared to be a numbered county road giving public access right up to the top of Berryessa Peak. On google earth I could then see a private track running down the western side to the public road along the eastern shore of Lake Berryessa. So when I tracked down Pete Craig and got permission to use the track, I thought I had cracked a safe route over the Blue Ridge. This would avoid using a busy and dangerous narrow road to the south. However Pete queried the 'county' road, and on doing a little more research I found to my dismay that it was actually a private road with locked gates. I spent a frantic morning following up various leads from Petra's house and identified several useful contacts, but in the end had to leave it to Petra to sort out. But all's well that ends well, and she eventually managed to track down the owner who was a little hesitant at first. Petra explained the situation and happily he gave the required permission and gate combinations. So on <strong>Saturday 8th April</strong> we negotiated the first set of padlocks...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqb81aTA9FxF8SCTw0FEYPxRFLtSkilG_TDMTZtWVvTDjHnkh4FZKmVeP_3Z_BwzaQEBSnoCMt9EMqmHAK3Y-XIXLMCBlZs1bsbLIImp1GllGn7qfiFkb5aLn9pVFKj4B6Ptv4JdTr2jGX/s1600/CampGate.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="492" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqb81aTA9FxF8SCTw0FEYPxRFLtSkilG_TDMTZtWVvTDjHnkh4FZKmVeP_3Z_BwzaQEBSnoCMt9EMqmHAK3Y-XIXLMCBlZs1bsbLIImp1GllGn7qfiFkb5aLn9pVFKj4B6Ptv4JdTr2jGX/s320/CampGate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...before setting off up a forested winding track into the hills. In my innocence I had imagined a glorious ride enjoying panoramic vistas while the sun shone. The reality was drizzle and mist with zilch chance of a view as we climbed steadily uphill. It became colder, and I regretted leaving my gloves behind because yes those white flecks in the (Petra eye view) photo below are indeed snowflakes.....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3nNBZeNbLVtvBfB5RuQX2RzINdQK4NiHo1sA_IuOhVuAdxkoRiV0M71WK4j8RTIAliUVGk-2MLLWM-7puan3ULGP5SvTcRxahEUmahnD36XkGaPrpY13_Cc4JssBxaYirKDkwrNGNy_A/s1600/RedSnowingEdit2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="805" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3nNBZeNbLVtvBfB5RuQX2RzINdQK4NiHo1sA_IuOhVuAdxkoRiV0M71WK4j8RTIAliUVGk-2MLLWM-7puan3ULGP5SvTcRxahEUmahnD36XkGaPrpY13_Cc4JssBxaYirKDkwrNGNy_A/s320/RedSnowingEdit2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So much for a spring day in California. But amazingly the mist lifted for a short time as we reached the summit of Berryessa Peak so we could enjoy the view down to the lake beyond....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4zCDr5phvTKOE8-k-8jHmrkSCBPqcX4PwXT21qlWBawc8lNREt-TSpVnrs2URIU0VZrP39Y36jwa5wRc90d5bDvlsPKci1v9i7hN7GMTM_vJ-mpb6OnLwgAmPqgc3MLOqniAGQDRp_wH/s1600/PetraSummitedit.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="1001" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4zCDr5phvTKOE8-k-8jHmrkSCBPqcX4PwXT21qlWBawc8lNREt-TSpVnrs2URIU0VZrP39Y36jwa5wRc90d5bDvlsPKci1v9i7hN7GMTM_vJ-mpb6OnLwgAmPqgc3MLOqniAGQDRp_wH/s320/PetraSummitedit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Taking a misty photo with my Kindle on the eastern descent...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1zCj2pn-0Mix19sIncrMDfN8FiJaLoi2J3rsnayMV5kT0ytZWixIlGqkhyphenhyphenumbBBEah8bNxl2viL4SzKGCnWk13wQXtrV2V0o43sbLVc4vJ2hVIktfq5T7mZJQ1sblD2GfCRlegiCFyib/s1600/TakingKindlePhoto.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="748" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1zCj2pn-0Mix19sIncrMDfN8FiJaLoi2J3rsnayMV5kT0ytZWixIlGqkhyphenhyphenumbBBEah8bNxl2viL4SzKGCnWk13wQXtrV2V0o43sbLVc4vJ2hVIktfq5T7mZJQ1sblD2GfCRlegiCFyib/s320/TakingKindlePhoto.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
An unexpected locked gate....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm_ptwt_6PpRrGbll3pZ5dGmM8Wwyob7luGlvgsIxX1_iJz-bZCS1C1khLLvi_yu5eTbn0jqYwu-EXVMkfuimcYxTX67RvuheVVEdyug7KgzpwHHRbgYglzzAKP0K4M7BR-H7DyYYsA1i/s1600/RedGatecrop.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="1024" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm_ptwt_6PpRrGbll3pZ5dGmM8Wwyob7luGlvgsIxX1_iJz-bZCS1C1khLLvi_yu5eTbn0jqYwu-EXVMkfuimcYxTX67RvuheVVEdyug7KgzpwHHRbgYglzzAKP0K4M7BR-H7DyYYsA1i/s320/RedGatecrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady managed to scramble over the bank at the far end, but Petra had to phone for the padlock combination to let a rather fed up Red through. Notice the sun has come out now we have nearly reached our destination. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Pete had also very generously offered us the use of the old Gunn ranch house by the lake, so here are Petra and Sue relaxing on the verandah...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg571XkRwVD84LtB6tymFXQVmmjqUHMNAnTiFlLgR3sqZcH4SkKl7o7w053-4G1JxK1xs-dn6TbdiG2zRMRkr7zXZOUujRfZXMioqb9-nho-4jNVI01AQ6nlSFy8Wr3BsvAOmeYUwj5-jHq/s1600/VerandahRelax1000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="1000" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg571XkRwVD84LtB6tymFXQVmmjqUHMNAnTiFlLgR3sqZcH4SkKl7o7w053-4G1JxK1xs-dn6TbdiG2zRMRkr7zXZOUujRfZXMioqb9-nho-4jNVI01AQ6nlSFy8Wr3BsvAOmeYUwj5-jHq/s320/VerandahRelax1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
..while the horses chill out in the yard....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45kvTFD1ZH8MH-WwhMpKKWdakkCP2lvtB6ZoLkwGwCMA5tpUULQFPfhWY3saBaSMp8aVij53sjziq4k1cTKXaShv0DtyprSrLG8jCdRN_1c46DJJbdfuUVoqMvbfNCzxHSEb176v_Mp7O/s1600/LadyoftheLakeRededit1000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="1000" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45kvTFD1ZH8MH-WwhMpKKWdakkCP2lvtB6ZoLkwGwCMA5tpUULQFPfhWY3saBaSMp8aVij53sjziq4k1cTKXaShv0DtyprSrLG8jCdRN_1c46DJJbdfuUVoqMvbfNCzxHSEb176v_Mp7O/s320/LadyoftheLakeRededit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com97tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-64604459374449858092017-07-13T17:14:00.003+01:002017-07-15T17:22:10.853+01:00The Next Step.<br />
It was the end of the trail, but not the end of the ride, as I still had to make my way to the coast to complete my round-the-world challenge. Lucy dropped us off in Old Sacramento the next morning <strong>Wednesday 5th April </strong>and we made out way across the historic Tower Bridge which spans the Sacramento river (Pony club kids, never ever tie your pony up this way) ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVwDsXL9BoYo4PdMI63dd9OH3FjRJxv4bDqtT3z6W-KTrRxzp-afc9_5QpKgYcgg0dsF1SUnIVqUPdFWcwy728v2aekl5SrlJFymLUHPSUOVYZc0-5I1bYenNVG9z-oHHM-Oi3REVrhBH/s1600/SacramentoBridge1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVwDsXL9BoYo4PdMI63dd9OH3FjRJxv4bDqtT3z6W-KTrRxzp-afc9_5QpKgYcgg0dsF1SUnIVqUPdFWcwy728v2aekl5SrlJFymLUHPSUOVYZc0-5I1bYenNVG9z-oHHM-Oi3REVrhBH/s320/SacramentoBridge1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Although it was only built in 1934, the bridge is very distinctive. Unlike the more famous London example in which two sections of the middle span between the towers lift up to let ships pass between, this is an example of a vertical lift bridge in which the entire middle span between the towers raises up to let the ships pass beneath.<br />
<br />
Then it was a trudge through the western sprawl of Sacramento and over the 3.2mile Yolo causeway which links Sacramento with the town of Davis. In the days of the Pony Express it was not possible to ride directly due west due to the wide band of wetlands along the Sacramento river which are subject to regular flooding. This is why the Pony Express mail was carried between San Francisco and Sacramento by steamship. The original causeway was built in 1916 and the current one in 1962. It is carried on pillars over the Yolo Bypass, which carries excess floodwater during heavy rains. The official name is the Blecher-Freeman Memorial Causeway after two patrolman who were shot in the line of duty in 1978.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i9.ytimg.com/vi/JVirsgwK7Po/default.jpg?sqp=CIzHnssF&rs=AOn4CLDh_6Lbi-HjDJpytz0aJGoc58lQGw" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JVirsgwK7Po?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ex Brit from Richmond Paul Storey and friend Edward Serrano walking Mucca the dog....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5evpyl06rjW3FncpBWgTCfYvCX2wMoFZ9sJGOAEYjdlOuOhYgYW47PZRVocD7YZ57mT6xf8OKClkJFHRasJ80bgzWr3hwXghUeWScQZWnzq9YqF2vWKGN3JIKlkNzN-SIT0bCQeUxdRta/s1600/MeLadyDogEdwardSerrano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5evpyl06rjW3FncpBWgTCfYvCX2wMoFZ9sJGOAEYjdlOuOhYgYW47PZRVocD7YZ57mT6xf8OKClkJFHRasJ80bgzWr3hwXghUeWScQZWnzq9YqF2vWKGN3JIKlkNzN-SIT0bCQeUxdRta/s320/MeLadyDogEdwardSerrano.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was now travelling without backup again, and to make life easier, had tried to sort out some definite places that would accommodate Lady. At the last minute I had contacted Black Crest Friesians which was located a few miles the other side of the causeway, and was immediately given an invitation for both Lady and myself to stay by owner Sandi Riemenschneider. I turned up at a pristine ranch with ebony horses behind white fences tossing their long black manes in emerald green paddocks. I was idly chatting to Sandi and husband Ron over a glass of wine and telling them about my Welsh ponies when she mentioned that her neighbouring vet David Valchak had just been to the UK and bought a Welsh cob. There could not be too many Californian vets who had just travelled to the UK to buy a Welsh cob. "Is it a two year old filly?" I asked. "Yes I think it is" said Sandi. She immediately got on the blower. Yes it was Carrie's vet who had been to Synod stud with Owen! This obviously necessitated a visit to see the filly, so here is Joy Valchek with their new pride and joy Synod Ruby...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0w_RY45c_WNmWp_8abZ0KJzrbMwCePSXoeEBtxoejKlolPbI3w3K5yM5uWHPuJcQoK-vRgHvoqj2EaV71sD2VIHJkUZqTEdzOpHwPgnOBW1_OGMlWj9qABzIvmaNS5M9J4qMvEXpv6Q7G/s1600/MenaiFilly1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0w_RY45c_WNmWp_8abZ0KJzrbMwCePSXoeEBtxoejKlolPbI3w3K5yM5uWHPuJcQoK-vRgHvoqj2EaV71sD2VIHJkUZqTEdzOpHwPgnOBW1_OGMlWj9qABzIvmaNS5M9J4qMvEXpv6Q7G/s320/MenaiFilly1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
....and here am I with David and Joy......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkehTxw1V5QODrdqmqIC8_JVAToeTLk-gtesybpKXH2rMQjUUf9BjvrIcQjv-3ygOZRfpS0X2yACeAa-xgVaLsG5IV9WXMdcAx5OAMrbU5HB9y65GIwxmaFkWBOC_aLbmsCuZtPOi4Ilx/s1600/IMG_3622cropEdit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="977" data-original-width="1000" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkehTxw1V5QODrdqmqIC8_JVAToeTLk-gtesybpKXH2rMQjUUf9BjvrIcQjv-3ygOZRfpS0X2yACeAa-xgVaLsG5IV9WXMdcAx5OAMrbU5HB9y65GIwxmaFkWBOC_aLbmsCuZtPOi4Ilx/s320/IMG_3622cropEdit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
David specialises in AI and was a mine of information on the subject. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All in all fabulous evening with good food, wine and company followed by a comfortable bed!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And here is Sandi the next morning <strong>Thursday 6th April</strong> with Lady and Joy who came over to see me off...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkyq4EcjfOZcjx_YpcBfj7ynIdm0TQk4TozYBVMXIpbWqRo85AL6bPPYFbtNLqoh7Pccw6S_TGoFV3N10ux03ikYEhxRg0NZLxuOLhTMgdIKUDqurY7G7DWtWrR9v6jhrpqk4CFeKKZSe/s1600/BlackCrest1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="878" data-original-width="1000" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkyq4EcjfOZcjx_YpcBfj7ynIdm0TQk4TozYBVMXIpbWqRo85AL6bPPYFbtNLqoh7Pccw6S_TGoFV3N10ux03ikYEhxRg0NZLxuOLhTMgdIKUDqurY7G7DWtWrR9v6jhrpqk4CFeKKZSe/s320/BlackCrest1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Unfortunately I got a little lost when Sandi sent me off on a shortcut across the fields, but she soon set me straight and even came to meet me as I had left my map behind (for a change!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/21mSsn3FBeM/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/21mSsn3FBeM?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Central Valley is the most productive agricultural area in the United States, but over the last few years has been suffering from prolonged drought. However thanks to me it was now temporarily out of danger, as rain accompanied me for the next few days. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Crops are irrigated with buried plastic pipes which may be pierced with holes along their length have small taps fitted, as shown in this photo with the taps protruding above the surface....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3kHJffWGbTYhMvPs3XpP51EtP-V3Bm_zDlDAyMsSL0kxSiXhhYHMO77iGnJM4iWw4nqjsy8LnNWYjRrqQE-923yDRiDtjR1goMMoANXIwyWthseNz01F65Aqpw3Q7n1JTvdvi9WSGgcX/s1600/Irrigationtaps1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="754" data-original-width="1000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3kHJffWGbTYhMvPs3XpP51EtP-V3Bm_zDlDAyMsSL0kxSiXhhYHMO77iGnJM4iWw4nqjsy8LnNWYjRrqQE-923yDRiDtjR1goMMoANXIwyWthseNz01F65Aqpw3Q7n1JTvdvi9WSGgcX/s320/Irrigationtaps1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I had conjectured that the strange green fruit on these irrigated trees might be plums...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncq6UT3E312gfiaS67MN28uHvQuEydQ-sgTqprTwbmgcbBBTADHAm5_Gwlx3EaN9zuhxLHn-wddSAiNVan32tcKpMyv9eixD21biE997U7Bo3-rQu67eUwFgpjoUYbV9IzJXBcflM9pXl/s1600/IrrigatingTrees1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="761" data-original-width="1000" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncq6UT3E312gfiaS67MN28uHvQuEydQ-sgTqprTwbmgcbBBTADHAm5_Gwlx3EaN9zuhxLHn-wddSAiNVan32tcKpMyv9eixD21biE997U7Bo3-rQu67eUwFgpjoUYbV9IzJXBcflM9pXl/s320/IrrigatingTrees1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...but in fact they turned out to be almonds.....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMQ4QsA0VjlTZUbotjmuXf8Styfdyq_2HwXJ4i2crAF_BDGa8JpbvwLMhRHcbjF6hFpSPQDHQ1kwy4B6ZTduOK86JDGrUGOGNN8daFuvtzoRT1DVHmsbxTvrvvtztjLQc09erBYBUmFb3/s1600/Almonds1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="825" data-original-width="1000" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMQ4QsA0VjlTZUbotjmuXf8Styfdyq_2HwXJ4i2crAF_BDGa8JpbvwLMhRHcbjF6hFpSPQDHQ1kwy4B6ZTduOK86JDGrUGOGNN8daFuvtzoRT1DVHmsbxTvrvvtztjLQc09erBYBUmFb3/s320/Almonds1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
To my surprise I discovered that almonds are not only one of the main crops in the Central Valley, but the area accounts for about sixty percent of world production. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Petra had planned to meet up with me at the weekend to ride over the Blue Mountains, but due to the rain here which translated into snowfall on the Sierras, she decided to come over a day early to make sure she did not get stuck on the other side. She met me at my next stopover the Sunfire Equestrian Centre, where proprietor Alana Curtis kindly provided Red and Lady with outdoor paddocks and let me use the living area in her trailer. She had to dash off so no photos, though here is one Petra took of me arriving..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzv1FSjOuQWaqcFdsYNcKdSLJiKo3rav3WbeABs2QmxMaHc0KoxNiVatHPAwzF-3uLcbaJGOUHtVRsuxNvZ8oZ6qlwy86Z0jLxRBjO00F3xi4hqW2tULl7vd5fVeei1jv4kGQ1uwfQ8cx/s1600/002ArrivingSunfirecrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="746" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzv1FSjOuQWaqcFdsYNcKdSLJiKo3rav3WbeABs2QmxMaHc0KoxNiVatHPAwzF-3uLcbaJGOUHtVRsuxNvZ8oZ6qlwy86Z0jLxRBjO00F3xi4hqW2tULl7vd5fVeei1jv4kGQ1uwfQ8cx/s320/002ArrivingSunfirecrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had hoped to take an off road route over the Blue Ridge to Lake Berryessa, and after a lot of research and endless phoning around on the part of Petra and myself, we managed to get the necessary permissions. I had managed to identify and contact Pete Craig who ranched the mountainside on the western flank of the range running down to the lake, and now he phoned to ask us out to dinner in Davis with some family and friends. So we ended up having a great evening in a lively restaurant while the rain beat down outside. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-80310116082708336192017-07-13T16:32:00.001+01:002017-07-13T23:15:59.273+01:00The End of the Trail!<strong>Tuesday 4th April </strong>was a significant day in more ways than one. Firstly I completed my journey along the Pony Express Trail, but secondly I had timed it to coincide with the date that the first mail left Sacramento 157 years ago. But the first mail left on April 3rd I hear you exclaim! And that is true, but it actually left from San Francisco (at 4pm on April 3rd), and was only carried by the pony with rider James Randall as far as the waterfront. Here it was put on the steamship Antelope to Sacramento, where it arrived in the early hours of the following morning. The first rider to carry the mail out of Sacramento at 2.45am on 4th April 1860 was William (Sam) Hamilton, and one could argue this is where the pony part of the Pony Express eastern run really began.<br />
Lucy and I were certainly not intending to start at such an ungodly hour, and set off from home at a more respectable time. Lucy was going to meet up with me to ride the last couple of miles into old Sacramento on Mohawk, her pinto Tennessee Walking Horse, but dropped Lady and me back at CalExpo to cover the section in between. Unfortunately I discovered I had left my camera battery behind, so this post has to rely on a few photos on my Kindle. <br />
<br />
As we neared Sacramento, the trail rapidly began to acquire a different atmosphere. Gone were the lycra clad cyclists and instead we passed a small tent camp of homeless people and dogs. There were occasional glimpses of tent camps tucked away in the backwoods......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKI1Uwuqj3X2J0yTrnYrce1xeOsXgJRBluzvJmGv_uaCicapgCLst3oGBwzKEqXmsINSubJL7zSQIAHH6X8hW6zEHvIG704RMvkXv5p-vYHI5QVOFW5GghmBbDG5T_GXb4KA1myPbcVrWy/s1600/WoodsCamp1p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="1000" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKI1Uwuqj3X2J0yTrnYrce1xeOsXgJRBluzvJmGv_uaCicapgCLst3oGBwzKEqXmsINSubJL7zSQIAHH6X8hW6zEHvIG704RMvkXv5p-vYHI5QVOFW5GghmBbDG5T_GXb4KA1myPbcVrWy/s320/WoodsCamp1p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The completely deserted trail had a post apocalyptic look. An abandoned raft washed up on the side of the muddy path ....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidA8Ub6Vgp5DVIvCO3qP4J1HOZUOeGfPskDD2qqoVwD4oBmx0ihDkECU58t1v-5YmqqwLaWgU0MAlPgtiA4xapIzz4BDV5e-rAc0Y-_0ym7QfhcFlUI_uqXamSJMOfjq8EWXlsjp14WNj/s1600/AbandonedRaftCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="1000" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidA8Ub6Vgp5DVIvCO3qP4J1HOZUOeGfPskDD2qqoVwD4oBmx0ihDkECU58t1v-5YmqqwLaWgU0MAlPgtiA4xapIzz4BDV5e-rAc0Y-_0ym7QfhcFlUI_uqXamSJMOfjq8EWXlsjp14WNj/s320/AbandonedRaftCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...was it really capable of floating?<br />
Mud plastering everything bore evidence of recent flooding, and in the distance in this photo, a fallen tree blocked the path....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AnVDOSM77RzgzUDqbQ99BPxBy7dfpL_uIaFeO245kA8JvaBOTnMX_CHe1iwkPxpHe30WaGrxusAxKyqjsECGJ6b4Mq1-POvNqWm_Y0WadXS96AGYQMMoHoPkgWNIzXet5qEp1xntTbxQ/s1600/TrailEdit2crop2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="808" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AnVDOSM77RzgzUDqbQ99BPxBy7dfpL_uIaFeO245kA8JvaBOTnMX_CHe1iwkPxpHe30WaGrxusAxKyqjsECGJ6b4Mq1-POvNqWm_Y0WadXS96AGYQMMoHoPkgWNIzXet5qEp1xntTbxQ/s320/TrailEdit2crop2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
..people had evidently been using a narrow gap on the right hand side to negotiate it, but as I drew nearer there were ominous rustlings in the bushes. Was it an ambush? I suspect not but I still pushed my way quickly through the thickets on the other side without dismounting. <br />
We started to encounter swampy flooded sections with creepers draping the trees, and I half expected to see zombies wading out of the tangled foliage.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKavdxiLOEm5_Eekf4uYi6aoiLKMWOxjRWCicNRd9W3gi1IeitAVS20i26teJMBcvXaBExYdLXugMoXSRIDfqeIY337-V8rsXlHrVqY9wK-EErxGj3Tpjd7U8wmzkrZNO9ShefaDSw3ke8/s1600/FloodedTrailcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="1000" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKavdxiLOEm5_Eekf4uYi6aoiLKMWOxjRWCicNRd9W3gi1IeitAVS20i26teJMBcvXaBExYdLXugMoXSRIDfqeIY337-V8rsXlHrVqY9wK-EErxGj3Tpjd7U8wmzkrZNO9ShefaDSw3ke8/s320/FloodedTrailcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
In fact this flooded section was only a couple of hundred yards long, and to my surprise I emerged at the far end to find three of the lycra brigade faltering at the edge of the flood before they turned tail. <br />
<br />
I met Lucy as planned just the other side of the Jibboom St bridge over the American river, and we rode into town along the side of the Sacramento river. Lucy and I pose in front of the Hastings building where the Wells Fargo and Pony Express offices were housed.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpgMTuwmt49BWF_6DC5UMjEXr9KhJO550usM7KE6C_CCpwow6l0cbiUKDukwYNfaSXbeDhykqhl-dZe0Fqtgt4f_rJ58F7KVjWcCTZ7wzP3-AxhyC3EmsafVdeq4eO_kcmLXtacBlHo2p/s1600/WellsFargoCrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="773" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpgMTuwmt49BWF_6DC5UMjEXr9KhJO550usM7KE6C_CCpwow6l0cbiUKDukwYNfaSXbeDhykqhl-dZe0Fqtgt4f_rJ58F7KVjWcCTZ7wzP3-AxhyC3EmsafVdeq4eO_kcmLXtacBlHo2p/s320/WellsFargoCrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
and in front of the Pony Express statue on the other side of the road...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupNu2NWXby7WEv8yBf5KhYdoo8bjDoF7HHqWtVSFWXjm_oB0FQEIgpdBAN5yj1Co8k1wIAZ9OSb9TkWLUFeHtkEfXvgxqIfzg6n0qEpBGdNOu3Dnf2OodZ-hOaU6_2WM5GtuKistwlm_n/s1600/LucyMeSacramentoCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="764" data-original-width="1000" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupNu2NWXby7WEv8yBf5KhYdoo8bjDoF7HHqWtVSFWXjm_oB0FQEIgpdBAN5yj1Co8k1wIAZ9OSb9TkWLUFeHtkEfXvgxqIfzg6n0qEpBGdNOu3Dnf2OodZ-hOaU6_2WM5GtuKistwlm_n/s320/LucyMeSacramentoCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Note we are both decked out in our Pony Express uniforms of blue jeans, red shirts, leather waistcoats, yellow bandanas and cowboy boots.<br />
No cheering crowds waiting to greet us , but we celebrated with a very welcome (and delicious) ice-cream, in my case a suitably named Rocky Road<br />
<br />
There was just time afterwards for a trip to see the Kirtlan family who live not far from Sacramento. I had met Carrie Kirtlan when I was judging at a Welsh breeds show in California in September 2015, and she contacted me last autumn. They were coming over to Wales for the Welsh cob sales and were on the look out for a nice Welsh cob stallion. Could I advise on the best studs to visit? Sods law I would be riding in California at the same time as they would be in Wales, but I gave her an introduction to Owen Griffiths, a former Welsh Pony and Cob Society Young Ambassador who I felt sure would be able to help them out. <br />
The result was that he took them up to the renowned Synod stud after they had failed to find something to their liking at the sales, and they had done a deal on a young Welsh cob colt who in due course had followed them back to Sacramento. And here he is in his new home....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZff75McGMKf9dBOWjbuv0b70dh19RX1NJx1NEHfnSUaU3Ipq2F_J1ehw7qvC7cpXqHlLx2ifGuslQXGjFBR7JkYihHS5m39JPELaDa2gpvlJoVgt0eFKAuBHu8fDWMuxZt2q3Mnzpx7u/s1600/CarrieMenaiColtcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1001" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZff75McGMKf9dBOWjbuv0b70dh19RX1NJx1NEHfnSUaU3Ipq2F_J1ehw7qvC7cpXqHlLx2ifGuslQXGjFBR7JkYihHS5m39JPELaDa2gpvlJoVgt0eFKAuBHu8fDWMuxZt2q3Mnzpx7u/s320/CarrieMenaiColtcrop.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Carrie's vet had accompanied them just for the trip, but had also ended up buying a Synod Welsh cob, in his case a two year filly Synod Ruby. </div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-85353141009131395482017-07-12T22:10:00.001+01:002017-07-15T17:26:36.607+01:00Trailing Along<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Setting off from Rescue on <b>Sunday 2nd April. </b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If I only had a heart I would have put something in this guy's mailbox..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7DY4GF4Zt8bIrIGubGtH-HDcmpnnEyn8M5OuAn6tzQXADryF3FcwAFjR_M257TnFOh7VeaNfYrrmwMO1ADwJNvf5B8-jrZtwMYeUwZKQxNGYCrVI-278Djpt4-NtERU-NYsb0HSxdfGJ/s1600/Tinman1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1460" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7DY4GF4Zt8bIrIGubGtH-HDcmpnnEyn8M5OuAn6tzQXADryF3FcwAFjR_M257TnFOh7VeaNfYrrmwMO1ADwJNvf5B8-jrZtwMYeUwZKQxNGYCrVI-278Djpt4-NtERU-NYsb0HSxdfGJ/s320/Tinman1000.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Peyton and Alison Oxford come out to see Lady...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOQ8OJEYmH8Q2LcY0ZfkmKYiFVgvhPdBFXVd63QwHTQ8ET0VAm-3FkIsb1BfIsErG0YMIzjPP7pSvbfGXc8NIt1JzuBCcSgj-qK7j2nRmXZziprplJAl1F_EEluPGOC-tRgeUjibL7UtK/s1600/PeytonAlisonOxfordMalcomDixonDrive..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="714" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOQ8OJEYmH8Q2LcY0ZfkmKYiFVgvhPdBFXVd63QwHTQ8ET0VAm-3FkIsb1BfIsErG0YMIzjPP7pSvbfGXc8NIt1JzuBCcSgj-qK7j2nRmXZziprplJAl1F_EEluPGOC-tRgeUjibL7UtK/s320/PeytonAlisonOxfordMalcomDixonDrive..jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After a few hours ride along the highways and byways of Sacramento county, we reached Folsom Lake and stopped for a break. Lady is transfixed not by the stunning view but by the sound of Mexicans party party partying round the headland....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOUilNu1b0O0r8_WSK25lkBz1XRaIa0eJfjGTZUiG6Ah4P_TAGLxAW8G2IyN_Iqtr8IcWivLOYnCyLTyfGOn8o8xNRFYNqcAiSyNum3zzvrtd84SCZYoI6-HG-TxsbZZbmEDY-xbRufaVK/s1600/LadyFolsomLakeKindle1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="1000" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOUilNu1b0O0r8_WSK25lkBz1XRaIa0eJfjGTZUiG6Ah4P_TAGLxAW8G2IyN_Iqtr8IcWivLOYnCyLTyfGOn8o8xNRFYNqcAiSyNum3zzvrtd84SCZYoI6-HG-TxsbZZbmEDY-xbRufaVK/s320/LadyFolsomLakeKindle1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I was totally baffled by this large random model of a guitar by the trail a little further on, but the more savvy among you (Well done Stu who got it in one!) should be able to get the connection if you know it was close to Folsom Prison which we happened to be riding past......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkSpOrT9Vc1yEwrhBENTVZ-xgK6yPdnptBwqku8BWbqUpQjPRtBD9XvQ1k1th4X3ke37WjL6fKdwc71W_Ot5Wu3BVmao6Sajv7SlVmcekPmT6Ru-HuZgAuNCXMZIRgems7BVrR8F6FSw_/s1600/Guitar1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1000" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkSpOrT9Vc1yEwrhBENTVZ-xgK6yPdnptBwqku8BWbqUpQjPRtBD9XvQ1k1th4X3ke37WjL6fKdwc71W_Ot5Wu3BVmao6Sajv7SlVmcekPmT6Ru-HuZgAuNCXMZIRgems7BVrR8F6FSw_/s320/Guitar1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
There is a clue at the bottom of the post.<br />
<br />
Crossing the Folsom trestle bridge over the American River...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuPKKFTFTFJxTSPYY6r45Iu8x06CbqJ12bHZkS8MpqWamV235_T0kxUKARcjF0pGNVW19iIWMbkW0NJmr7mQ576Lg4N8rgZWQQTMiE6Hux8IrRIi8x8njNBBbHcDLO01GC8wJz9FaC-OI/s1600/FolsomBridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="1000" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuPKKFTFTFJxTSPYY6r45Iu8x06CbqJ12bHZkS8MpqWamV235_T0kxUKARcjF0pGNVW19iIWMbkW0NJmr7mQ576Lg4N8rgZWQQTMiE6Hux8IrRIi8x8njNBBbHcDLO01GC8wJz9FaC-OI/s320/FolsomBridge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We were now on the American River Trail, which follows the American River on either or both banks all the way to Sacramento. But not for long in our case as we soon came across this sign... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kgr-pO8LLCDnJwwuZuGK-U_2J5BMaOxgBAaP9gbXNza_FYNcmFw7jKbS3XFQfLxSsCMKJFV0mu6qhmQo6zq0IrOsOLEQMN1-PBLq3XDDhn9fNGBmVOrOC_KwK5r_xK1jIiZTPPVyIAoV/s1600/ARTlandslides.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="1000" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kgr-pO8LLCDnJwwuZuGK-U_2J5BMaOxgBAaP9gbXNza_FYNcmFw7jKbS3XFQfLxSsCMKJFV0mu6qhmQo6zq0IrOsOLEQMN1-PBLq3XDDhn9fNGBmVOrOC_KwK5r_xK1jIiZTPPVyIAoV/s320/ARTlandslides.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
..and it seemed from the barrier further along that after the recent rains the inevitable had happened - ROCKSLIDES! Our route was cut off and we had to deviate along the top of the bluffs....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Ma4Pib0-YEY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ma4Pib0-YEY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
.before scrambling back down to the main trail. <br />
We were riding down river alongside Lake Natoma, which is held back by the Nimbus Dam... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YMJFrU9c_NY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YMJFrU9c_NY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
In the distance you can see the Nimbus Bridge which was our destination for the day, as Lucy had very kindly offered to pick us up in the trailer and take us to her home.<br />
<br />
<b>Monday 3rd April</b> was another day of idyllic riding along the American River Trail<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9byi63zJ9vs/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9byi63zJ9vs?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A rest break near the bicycle bridge in the William B Pond Recreation Area ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/zAp-u56gIIA/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zAp-u56gIIA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
...and if anyone finds a long piece of rope here, it is my tethering rope which I accidently left behind - one of many scattered around the world I fear<br />
. <br />
The sort of sign Lady and I like to see...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96RejPRqdsUHqnkQ6RWLBQKuStdr0Q88nMRCPXdBfzwr8-3Ggrg7101Qd3hQi885DAJMALtthxBQXOhhbQVjUR2vy-t1yd4W2X1optT3kv8m-Ex5E6Dg7Q1RUnaa2CWJKshlUOaptHbJ3/s1600/YieldSign1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="807" data-original-width="1000" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96RejPRqdsUHqnkQ6RWLBQKuStdr0Q88nMRCPXdBfzwr8-3Ggrg7101Qd3hQi885DAJMALtthxBQXOhhbQVjUR2vy-t1yd4W2X1optT3kv8m-Ex5E6Dg7Q1RUnaa2CWJKshlUOaptHbJ3/s320/YieldSign1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Wild turkey legging it across the trail...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NSAvaywUG8NXD6GvFnFSIp30gTwPTxk2t26Ufmlt5mY-XIq2loInS1nUqx0uaRc3XEMh3nkxYZeVFjXjZVirvZUYA2SaFhh0q7Q4-M4A77ngAW8oa3fEBGbWsvHGQpcx-_2nA0HqwzOZ/s1600/WildRurkeyLeggingItcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1000" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NSAvaywUG8NXD6GvFnFSIp30gTwPTxk2t26Ufmlt5mY-XIq2loInS1nUqx0uaRc3XEMh3nkxYZeVFjXjZVirvZUYA2SaFhh0q7Q4-M4A77ngAW8oa3fEBGbWsvHGQpcx-_2nA0HqwzOZ/s320/WildRurkeyLeggingItcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Seventeen miles further down the trail, Lucy picked me up outside CalExpo - the California State Fairground just outside Sacramento.<br />
<br />
CLUE: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMyzoHBtaME">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMyzoHBtaME</a> <br />
<br />
And the trail the guitar is on goes through the prison grounds and is named after this icon!. Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-43078848498665526672017-07-12T19:44:00.001+01:002017-07-16T12:41:53.882+01:00To the Rescue I woke up at Petra's on <b>Thursday April 30th</b> to this scene..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7q11lZwpQ38NK0y4ArKhg1o1zxl3f3l7SbGtcCbubl8S0Ki7F456h5k6egVamusCu1V13db9MQgAmdPYO6ZtDQUhIcBzIKPOL4LWZVcHDW-cz7aYONjssl5XE5ZJgUDCyXxLiWG3DHeNw/s1600/PetraSnow1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7q11lZwpQ38NK0y4ArKhg1o1zxl3f3l7SbGtcCbubl8S0Ki7F456h5k6egVamusCu1V13db9MQgAmdPYO6ZtDQUhIcBzIKPOL4LWZVcHDW-cz7aYONjssl5XE5ZJgUDCyXxLiWG3DHeNw/s320/PetraSnow1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
....to match up with the rainy and sunny options I have put on the blog before. </div>
<div>
My main concern was whether I would make it back over the Sierras to Pollock Pines, but in fact I had no trouble and had an interesting drive via Reno and the site of Sutter's Mill in Coloma where gold was first discovered in 1848, sparking off the Californian gold rush. Back at Jim and Ginger's I walked down to the barn to be confronted with a very portly Lady who had obviously not been stinting on food intake over the winter. </div>
<div>
<b>Friday April 31st</b> was action day. After returning my hire car to Sacramento airport and getting a lift back to Pollock Pines from Lucy, later in the day Lady waddled the short distance from the point beyond Camino where I finished riding in October down the road and a short stretch of trail to Placerville. No photos as I had forgotten my camera, but we were on the move at last!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lady and I set off in earnest from Placerville on <b>Saturday April 1st</b> hoping we would not become April fools. Placerville was once called Hangtown due to the numbers of criminals strung up on a public hang tree in Main St during the gold rush days. </div>
<div>
First stop was to get some dosh. And no I am not intending to become another victim of the hang tree by carrying out a mounted robbery of the Bank of America....</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1UaLkoWvhvwVxZYu0h_sj3hKl9IGLhHCR2jg60g350LW4zi86DexP-dj8IGjJ_YgaqOiDmo__faKT1N3eK-R0U9jobq4WM8U9DwQo8gLzeUcQKmOG4Bs_oEzUg3luc0HXeUXYwhit2he/s1600/PlacervilleATM1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1121" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1UaLkoWvhvwVxZYu0h_sj3hKl9IGLhHCR2jg60g350LW4zi86DexP-dj8IGjJ_YgaqOiDmo__faKT1N3eK-R0U9jobq4WM8U9DwQo8gLzeUcQKmOG4Bs_oEzUg3luc0HXeUXYwhit2he/s320/PlacervilleATM1000.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>
...but parking Lady under the wary eye of a bemused security guard before using the ATM. <br />
The Pony Express station is no more, but in a fate decreed to many a station at this end of the trail, it was destined to become part of yet another car park, this time belonging to Mel's Diner, where is the usual monument and plaque on the corner.<br />
<br />
Lady at the Diamond Springs Pony Express monument a few miles further on...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonJa7DGJ6aS8u9aa8Gpgs9dhGsnVbfbOcQCQEFGsKl5T4RcjpRJ1N35FXALe8S0G6RHSn4fY_jxx-lKF8DAakFyYVNMy9iSeFrHaXGWmsgbx55n3Vgy77rbSIlAedFNAp8zj9VQw4uuqO/s1600/DiamondSpr1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="739" data-original-width="1000" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonJa7DGJ6aS8u9aa8Gpgs9dhGsnVbfbOcQCQEFGsKl5T4RcjpRJ1N35FXALe8S0G6RHSn4fY_jxx-lKF8DAakFyYVNMy9iSeFrHaXGWmsgbx55n3Vgy77rbSIlAedFNAp8zj9VQw4uuqO/s320/DiamondSpr1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...not to be confused with the Diamond Springs Pony Express stations in Nebraska and Nevada.<br />
<br />
Diamond Springs was so called not because of diamond discoveries (though a 25lb gold nugget was found here) but its crystal clear waters. I had an opportunity to refresh myself not with crystal clear water but with a coffee in the café across the road which was equipped with a convenient hitching rail...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVcEE0v2HIu4U62Db1BY9nOYuJegFPqk2QF4mwzcBwkDulPrJCBpU1VT_2yMpuhq27wur5RgmFf5eWf6mv3L1i0WeV_XOpQtuQL35fE0ap55ofnkkKer4iWlmIERqnujZQnMJDSFJmEta/s1600/LadyCafe1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1000" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVcEE0v2HIu4U62Db1BY9nOYuJegFPqk2QF4mwzcBwkDulPrJCBpU1VT_2yMpuhq27wur5RgmFf5eWf6mv3L1i0WeV_XOpQtuQL35fE0ap55ofnkkKer4iWlmIERqnujZQnMJDSFJmEta/s320/LadyCafe1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...the Korean owner was keen to record the event for posterity on his mobile phone. Notice Lady is decked out in natty fluorescent gear with reflective strips in preparation for the busy roads ahead. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I suspect this is not a practical joke....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYp2JalSV3Dk2Qf45RcJe-ZTwQjffxxasJF_nWIVug6ClfCtcfBVKK3uJ6TxYRa9mfjzUJ319igbXTXho7BNe5kb9scpTSWJ6Gtq5r8Tn3xIyrsGPZk6TncAbB7s92U5Ad7YDD1I0Ynn_3/s1600/NRA1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="1000" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYp2JalSV3Dk2Qf45RcJe-ZTwQjffxxasJF_nWIVug6ClfCtcfBVKK3uJ6TxYRa9mfjzUJ319igbXTXho7BNe5kb9scpTSWJ6Gtq5r8Tn3xIyrsGPZk6TncAbB7s92U5Ad7YDD1I0Ynn_3/s400/NRA1000.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was very fortunate to have a place to stay that night with good friends of Jim and Ginger's near Rescue.... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgcc2yxrDv-VljqaR-afjj-HtDZvheSkchqkFVr-S0GNciicayTIw3Qlki0I8H-1rzZKNXHFp9TyrQjxmKBFTM0kXZAwrWjePnkZIYLQkP3qCh5PV6BSGSmuYV93hmUT_VtbIdCM66445/s1600/Gloria1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgcc2yxrDv-VljqaR-afjj-HtDZvheSkchqkFVr-S0GNciicayTIw3Qlki0I8H-1rzZKNXHFp9TyrQjxmKBFTM0kXZAwrWjePnkZIYLQkP3qCh5PV6BSGSmuYV93hmUT_VtbIdCM66445/s320/Gloria1000.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...fellow Brit Gloria and husband Pat. A chance to indulge in a nice cuppa before I went to bed. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady was tethered at the bottom of the garden ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZpvsP3oj_1GcNY7SugA2exjgkNP08_kZJBs-MaCEkNXL1NXtIA1IvXXTz1afSe_M-Gwa6gNthH8-_jKih3FmusntN1U6YRdSTCsNol3jCkfgfWyddtv00UqMIlGlV_gNVU-93vDXkD8B/s1600/RescueGarden1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="1000" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZpvsP3oj_1GcNY7SugA2exjgkNP08_kZJBs-MaCEkNXL1NXtIA1IvXXTz1afSe_M-Gwa6gNthH8-_jKih3FmusntN1U6YRdSTCsNol3jCkfgfWyddtv00UqMIlGlV_gNVU-93vDXkD8B/s320/RescueGarden1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
....at least until she became unsettled by a passing gaggle of wild turkeys, when we moved her to the kitchen garden.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-80431998775989699872017-07-11T22:55:00.001+01:002017-07-12T17:49:02.260+01:00Back to the Golden StateThe final part of the adventure began when I flew into Los Angeles on <b>Monday 27</b><b>th March 2017</b> and picked up my hire car for the long drive up to Sacramento, stopping at a motel overnight on the way. On<b> Tuesday 28th March</b> I briefly called in at Pollock Pines to see Jim and Ginger before driving on over the Sierra Nevada as I wanted to visit a few places I had missed out on in the autumn.<br />
<br />
There have been unusually heavy snowfalls this year so I was glad I had made it over the Sierra Nevada before the snows set in last year or I would have been trapped on the other side well into June. The photo below shows the depth of snow still existing near Echo Summit at the end of April .....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H_UyKbI5SEo_tqzlI6c-LaT_q0iLFR8V3Ejdml8XDa9qvFjyrPWl9teuV-dhrjV_ijAKP0yX-a_fFQqDcgTWcD8bYFkdudnSbSAOs4Arew2Piq3Jps0YgWJ6eRYiNz8HlaGZ1IEegXhJ/s1600/EchoSummitcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1000" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H_UyKbI5SEo_tqzlI6c-LaT_q0iLFR8V3Ejdml8XDa9qvFjyrPWl9teuV-dhrjV_ijAKP0yX-a_fFQqDcgTWcD8bYFkdudnSbSAOs4Arew2Piq3Jps0YgWJ6eRYiNz8HlaGZ1IEegXhJ/s320/EchoSummitcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
....amazing to think that part of the trail leads off to the right of the photo and through the trees. The huge snowbank did not exist then, and an idea of scale is given by the car on the road in the middle distance.<br />
At the foot of the Sierras on the other side I stopped at the site of Meyers Pony Express station, on the shorter but steeper route over the Kingsbury Grade from Genoa to Stateline. I had taken the longer route via Woodfords. It is now the location of Lira's Market, though there is a small monument in front of the store....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nAapZtOAS6GtH3T-2ZusphXJu2AQD9mZJVPi7fqHuQHEESrbmx4g_ZjIDAvyfTL6FLokFBMB_PbH3oSZ-aDIEZJx2priD_PDKLUbrExphPYNmLOi2Wboj6ORo0d7on9V9TRKUuewYS7F/s1600/MeyersLiras1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1000" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nAapZtOAS6GtH3T-2ZusphXJu2AQD9mZJVPi7fqHuQHEESrbmx4g_ZjIDAvyfTL6FLokFBMB_PbH3oSZ-aDIEZJx2priD_PDKLUbrExphPYNmLOi2Wboj6ORo0d7on9V9TRKUuewYS7F/s320/MeyersLiras1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On reaching Carson City I managed to find the monument to the Carson City Pony Express station...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8xeLUFxu5Wfb0XXU_tlde4Dsdp736JAuHICc_pBAUoyEJ1g-jSB6xwZboZqo8MWW_k6Y5b8JblKrohVKpEjlKxNmbbrGh_Ajkjm3bf59QvFdTx7yG92aHVzKSEAorauVZhg-9CSkdYzr/s1600/CarsonCityPXmarker1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="971" data-original-width="1000" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8xeLUFxu5Wfb0XXU_tlde4Dsdp736JAuHICc_pBAUoyEJ1g-jSB6xwZboZqo8MWW_k6Y5b8JblKrohVKpEjlKxNmbbrGh_Ajkjm3bf59QvFdTx7yG92aHVzKSEAorauVZhg-9CSkdYzr/s320/CarsonCityPXmarker1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Not sure what the photo-bombing dalek is.<br />
Nothing remains of the original Pony Express station, which may have been at the site of this car park a couple of hundred yards to the south which is located on Carson St between 4th and 5th Sts....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWgPFkv3pLZQLARsbdh0CSoP0TSSPn2pJs4OSs_Lbkc-AYmJZm1Bk7xEqTQU_LV8JvjRD_HFImLb4chsoS_2706A6AGpU0P3dl0f1gNXAM-mARewm6ZDx_17Je9ULScxnG1z9oTl-U07v/s1600/PossiblePXsiteCarsonCity1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="1000" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWgPFkv3pLZQLARsbdh0CSoP0TSSPn2pJs4OSs_Lbkc-AYmJZm1Bk7xEqTQU_LV8JvjRD_HFImLb4chsoS_2706A6AGpU0P3dl0f1gNXAM-mARewm6ZDx_17Je9ULScxnG1z9oTl-U07v/s320/PossiblePXsiteCarsonCity1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
As territorial capital and the first large settlement the pony express reached after galloping across the Nevada desert from Salt Lake City, Carson City was a natural location for a home station.<br />
<br />
I also had a vain attempt to find Ormsby House which was the home of the Major Ormsby who led the ill-fated expedition against the Paiute in May 1860 which was one of the factors sparking the Paiute war. It is only later that I have realised I was being directed to a large modern hotel/casino (which has been closed for years) on the corner of Carson St and 5th. For anyone who is interested, <a href="http://aroundcarson.com/2006/05/06/the_two_houses_of_ormsby_then_and_now/" target="_blank">the old house</a> was in a different location on the corner of Carson St and 2nd and was demolished in the mid 1900s.<br />
<br />
After a night at Petra's house near the Washoe Lake which is now full of water again, I made an early start on the morning of <b>Wednesday 29th March</b>. My first stop was Dayton, as when I rode through in October I had not realised there were still remnants of the old Pony Express station there. Attached to the old Union Hotel is a freestanding wall which is part of the old station. In this view of the back of the hotel it can be seen clearly as the old stone wall with an archway to the left, attached to the back of the Union Hotel which is on the right...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tLhVbGwCJ8E317VrzQp6O8icTnvTF3CO72TS8OYQxSFK4vOlgM5ds1jSyxRNzFEKU8_11YpnSGAZXMX3efagpGoOpuELTbfpA-r5Pv3dyihO0CDql8qOVKo4M5DE4z1r_Wmc04ZSqypU/s1600/DaytonPXstationback1p1000..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="819" data-original-width="1000" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tLhVbGwCJ8E317VrzQp6O8icTnvTF3CO72TS8OYQxSFK4vOlgM5ds1jSyxRNzFEKU8_11YpnSGAZXMX3efagpGoOpuELTbfpA-r5Pv3dyihO0CDql8qOVKo4M5DE4z1r_Wmc04ZSqypU/s320/DaytonPXstationback1p1000..jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The Union Hotel is currently being renovated by its new owners, and according to their <a href="https://www.unionhoteldayton.com/" target="_blank">website</a> the plan with the Pony Express station wall is ".. to repoint the stones, rebuild the window and add a concrete beam to the top to hold together the loose bits and prevent rain from seeping into the interior of the wall"<br />
A view at the front of the hotel - remnants of the stone side wall of the old station can be seen in the gap between the wooden buildings.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwc0fJan5PQHbP2Nb-ZNj9FJ-FPRhVAcCggYHLa3ylgutcR7ArCVjh3CEbAAoH9u9e9ewoOXGcQktpG2JVQBO1e7_7dHWMgebcx9D6dWeO8V-Wi7_Dp_WEPrdZypjur1A-GA3Q90oj_x1J/s1600/DaytonPXstationfront1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="735" data-original-width="1000" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwc0fJan5PQHbP2Nb-ZNj9FJ-FPRhVAcCggYHLa3ylgutcR7ArCVjh3CEbAAoH9u9e9ewoOXGcQktpG2JVQBO1e7_7dHWMgebcx9D6dWeO8V-Wi7_Dp_WEPrdZypjur1A-GA3Q90oj_x1J/s320/DaytonPXstationfront1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
As can be seen from the water tower....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNN2KPYcysRJVOu7AptK0esCXxtj4OQsXOITAv5wDrWC9ePM2GUujbbEKAbjzTSdmNfZOeBeoW5lkC3epV1jMCWk_YC2FyVQoS4egTxJzu_lZyo1Bf-UENiZgi50JmkTBCu_pSt1KE2R3i/s1600/DaytonWaterTower1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="1000" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNN2KPYcysRJVOu7AptK0esCXxtj4OQsXOITAv5wDrWC9ePM2GUujbbEKAbjzTSdmNfZOeBeoW5lkC3epV1jMCWk_YC2FyVQoS4egTxJzu_lZyo1Bf-UENiZgi50JmkTBCu_pSt1KE2R3i/s320/DaytonWaterTower1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...Dayton still strongly disputes Genoa's claim to be the first settlement in Nevada!<br />
<br />
A long drive east across the desert and up a gravel track brought me to ruins of Sand Springs Pony Express station, which we had not had time to visit when we followed the trail in October. To recap on its history, it was built in March 1860 by Division Superintendent Bolivar Roberts.<br />
The view below shows the dark station walls. The low dip in the right hand side of the skyline is Simpsons Pass where the power station we camped beside is sited. The Pony Express riders followed the trail off to the right to cross the alkali flats in the middle distance and over the pass to Carson Sink. We followed the route of the re-ride which skirts the alkali flats off to the left and runs along the base of the Cocoon Mountains on the horizon. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2eBqV9dXdDiD2e3umgnhTkN1d3Y_4rX1znajeBFSynkqnLIjXSwQjsnVNw9gretak36g_WMmyl7qCSJr6a0rM4QY0iK9kqRaBdovOlNxE_BRY7L4FFL0soczmHN5Y46S04OptO7rklp0/s1600/SandSpringsPXsimpsonPass1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="1000" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2eBqV9dXdDiD2e3umgnhTkN1d3Y_4rX1znajeBFSynkqnLIjXSwQjsnVNw9gretak36g_WMmyl7qCSJr6a0rM4QY0iK9kqRaBdovOlNxE_BRY7L4FFL0soczmHN5Y46S04OptO7rklp0/s400/SandSpringsPXsimpsonPass1000.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
The station had been covered by sand and lain lost and undisturbed for years. Then in 1975 it was rediscovered by a team of archaeologists from Nevada State University and the following year was excavated and stabilised. Unfortunately the black basalt walls have been degraded in places by sightseers scrambling over them, and there are now notices exhorting visitors to refrain from this activity. <br />
As an outlying station in a godforsaken spot, relying on a sulphurous water supply and under constant threat of Paiute attack, it is perhaps not surprising that some of the most common artifacts dug up here were empty liquor bottles. Supplies of fodder and food (as well as the demon drink which they had sworn on a bible not to imbibe!) had to be brought in by wagon pulled by horses or oxen.<br />
<br />
The room below in the southwest corner was one of the living areas and contained a fireplace in the far corner.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqr1uIgOgraO_TTItMvcxxk_AnM3AQ0cu2nKwo5evyITDtdrxmyaZ7Ml9edYs_0Tbuy1qZ9rYjOxz3A2AZ7T_KNUlcjBN4z8wSMBRkAPXOxa0jyedp6mCcF16oOHZegJqyL9Hw5c0hEnK/s1600/SandSpringsPXlivingarea1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqr1uIgOgraO_TTItMvcxxk_AnM3AQ0cu2nKwo5evyITDtdrxmyaZ7Ml9edYs_0Tbuy1qZ9rYjOxz3A2AZ7T_KNUlcjBN4z8wSMBRkAPXOxa0jyedp6mCcF16oOHZegJqyL9Hw5c0hEnK/s320/SandSpringsPXlivingarea1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<u>I</u>t was originally part of a larger room with a wooden floor, but was later divided into two (the end of the dividing wall shows at the bottom right of the photo). It is thought the second room was later used for battery storage when the Transcontinental telegraph came this way. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This room in the northwest corner was used as a smithy and cooking room...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFryulghgruHWtOeBVwmtRygGQMIuZUonfkk92DVdS64qB5gNtVBppA-OaF5YjKClxolq_1u_GVX9dOFmONPGRwyIDb1PY3Ak4cOAShe9FwOPJjBCGN2B5KHR8NlpESqvQ-pVei-lTtVRY/s1600/SandSpringsPXblacksmith1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFryulghgruHWtOeBVwmtRygGQMIuZUonfkk92DVdS64qB5gNtVBppA-OaF5YjKClxolq_1u_GVX9dOFmONPGRwyIDb1PY3Ak4cOAShe9FwOPJjBCGN2B5KHR8NlpESqvQ-pVei-lTtVRY/s320/SandSpringsPXblacksmith1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It contained a shallow stone well, and wire and iron hooks found here suggest that there was a device to raise water. A firepit was used for blacksmithing and cooking. Besides these rooms there was space for tack and storage, stables and an additional corral within a basalt stone wall. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
By the time Sir Richard Burton came through the station was "roofless and chairless, filthy and squalid with the smoky fire in one corner and a table on an impure floor, the walls open to every wind and the interior full of dust" This condition was probably partly due to the ravages of Paiute, though it was never attacked when the station hands were 'at home'. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One of the original station masters was Montgomery Maze. He was holding the fort when Pony Bob Haslam made the return journey on his famous 380mile ride and persuaded Maze to accompany him to Carson Sink, having found Cold Springs burning and the station keeper dead.. He later became a rider on this section, riding from Friday's to Reese River. However it was he who was involved in the infamous shooting of H Trumbo at Smith's Creek, and although he was not actively punished, he was 'let go' from the employ of the Pony Express shortly after. </div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-62244232702975052842017-07-11T19:18:00.000+01:002017-07-12T17:48:47.622+01:00Catching UpThose who have been following my facebook posts will be aware that I completed the Pony Express Trail on April 4th earlier this year, and made it to the Pacific coast on the Easter weekend to complete my round-the-world ride. However I have been unable to update my blog due to a series of setbacks which have included losing my laptop on the flight home followed by my home computer crashing. This meant I was unable to edit photos for inclusion in my blog posts, and as I base the posts round the photos it effectively prevented me from adding to my blog. When my computer was eventually replaced I then found it was not provided with the relevant version of Adobe Photoshop, and after sorting that out discovered I was unable to upload my video clips to YouTube. Grrrr. However I think everything is now up and running and I have spent some time editing photos, so hopefully I will soon be able to bring my blog up to date with a more detailed version of events.<br />
So Watch This Space!<br />
<br />
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-25157682456731875382017-06-09T00:07:00.000+01:002017-06-09T00:07:27.933+01:00RecuperationAfter arriving home on <strong>November 6th</strong> I was confined to barracks for over a week as I was unable to drive with my cast. On top of this my computer crashed so neither could I sort out my photos or catch up with my blog, even one-handed. At least I had an excuse besides pleading exhaustion to lie in bed watching daytime television and reading. But ten days after arriving home I emerged from my local hospital in Carmarthen with a funky new cast for which I was able to choose the colour. What did I choose you may ask? As I was about to attend one of my social occasions of the year it had to be black to match my little black dress. This was for a do in Cardiff in aid of my beneficiary charity <a href="http://www.challengeaid.org/" target="_blank">Challenge Aid</a> founded and run by husband Iestyn. So here I am glammed up on top table next to Iestyn (white shirt and dark jacket)..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40442l177ARDQR51T_U6oFJpYwJawNmhwDyPtNiFf4ojpptqAwu5uVaUovVlhJXNlMImb8VatvF0qglLjyq2_nqPrrfDMJfdKQrkiue9huUFzND2pvz9mbVoJCRI6IHLqeOCY45No-Umb/s1600/Cardiff+Dinner1000crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40442l177ARDQR51T_U6oFJpYwJawNmhwDyPtNiFf4ojpptqAwu5uVaUovVlhJXNlMImb8VatvF0qglLjyq2_nqPrrfDMJfdKQrkiue9huUFzND2pvz9mbVoJCRI6IHLqeOCY45No-Umb/s400/Cardiff+Dinner1000crop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
..the guy in beard and glasses is son Gethin and the other gentlemen L to R are Welsh rugby internationals Sam Warburton, Craig Quinell and George North, and on the far right rugby journalist Rhodri Gomer Davies who is the son of one of my oldest friends. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Through fitness promoting challenges, the charity raises money to take children out of poverty through education. The main programme focuses on creating 'Schools of Hope' in slum and deprived areas of Kenya and Tanzania. These provide a safe environment for children to study out of school hours. In 2016 over 40% of Form 4 students from the seventeen longest established schools went on to University & higher education, an amazing achievement which surpasses the state school results.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My cast was off in time for usual hectic Christmas - ten for Christmas dinner, twenty-two for family dinner, indeterminate number for New Year's Wild West party - guess what I went as. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had intended to fly out to California to finish the ride after Christmas, and had in fact booked a flight for early January However when I checked my insurance I found my wrist would not be covered at all for three months, so to be on the safe side I took the decision to delay until the spring.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
New addition to the family at the end of February has been a completely hyperactive Welsh sheepdog puppy Tawe (pronounced Toweh - tow as in how)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Of course I had to buy her a couple of sheep, and they had to be my old favourites Welsh Badger-Face - I used to have a small flock of around ninety. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-66206828103509517322017-03-06T20:27:00.002+00:002017-03-06T20:27:52.323+00:00Humpty Dumpty <strong>Friday 28th October</strong>. My waterproof trousers had turned out to be not so waterproof the previous day, and having been soaked to the skin and with another wet day forecast, it seemed expedient to take a day off with Jim and Ginger. It was a chance to buy some better waterproofs and recce the next part of the route, not to mention relax in Jim and Ginger's lovely house. Lady was turned into the steep paddock with the other horses.<br />
I had arranged to meet up with Lucy the next day at the house of British ex-pat Gloria, a friend of Ginger's married to an American, who had very kindly offered to let us stop overnight in their garden. They live over twenty miles by road from Camino, and with the days drawing in, I wanted to make an early start. Jim was going to haul Lady and I back to Camino soon after it got light in the morning of <strong>Saturday 29th October</strong> so I needed to get up before dark to feed Lady. Unfortunately all my torches were in the rig that Lucy had driven home. I was reluctant to wake Jim and Ginger at 5.30am to dig out a torch and did not want to set off late, so I decided to try and find my way down to the barn in the dark. Bad decision, as I missed the track and stepped out into space from a retaining wall at the side. The photo below shows the track down to the barn, and the short cut I took over the wall to the right. Looks better by daylight....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFknKjDSIwmERngiAM_jj4TZIVlQwFlO9wDHT3dXvl8UE703p-u_4CMXG42Eb58U2fjI3JAXF3hgT0VeDAxzdwlpTCo8O7GCdwq7AY1n2mnPmuGAskrUQ7IbUZi0huEhJ_14eRRI2dIuEY/s1600/Barn1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFknKjDSIwmERngiAM_jj4TZIVlQwFlO9wDHT3dXvl8UE703p-u_4CMXG42Eb58U2fjI3JAXF3hgT0VeDAxzdwlpTCo8O7GCdwq7AY1n2mnPmuGAskrUQ7IbUZi0huEhJ_14eRRI2dIuEY/s320/Barn1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The crunch from my wrist as I landed on the track below told me it was serious. But it was not until I found my way back up to the house and saw my deformed wrist in the light that I realised how bad the damage was. The dislocation doesn't really show here, as my wrist was already pretty swollen..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUyIcKwvaQdf8L79z6JO75vnQNZpn-FzizJjrUGykrvc5vz0BU7PRmJ-KDWnFqjKNdQqHoWh1ImtMi6TPiEI6r0haAB30y0pMmRtZBsF-Rv3411KMAKRCoH4Rrm0u7qcB-PRH-6bU8e89/s1600/BrokenWristEdit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUyIcKwvaQdf8L79z6JO75vnQNZpn-FzizJjrUGykrvc5vz0BU7PRmJ-KDWnFqjKNdQqHoWh1ImtMi6TPiEI6r0haAB30y0pMmRtZBsF-Rv3411KMAKRCoH4Rrm0u7qcB-PRH-6bU8e89/s1600/BrokenWristEdit.jpg" /></a></div>
... I ended up inconveniencing Jim and Ginger far more than if we had just set off a bit late. Jim had to get up in the dark, run me down to the nearest hospital in Placerville and then wait while I was dealt with. It turned out that my wrist was not only dislocated but broken. It was re-aligned and put in a temporary cast, and I was told I might need an operation, though would not be able to talk with the surgeon until Monday. In the meantime I had a course of painkillers, and went back to Pollock Pines to wait and plan my next move. Selfie with my new cast. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6GVAA-KNhRSgsU1332MqqitCNIr4HTEm4MAHHsmOUNPuIBndZjS9642QrKgxSwaBHkOjP4l5GVvCtYt9dZb7OI1DZKjKynhkVJSVeZtpWT0NvlNqwHUGgaeC3qlTebPJy1d6R3rKOAUv/s1600/14611163_1286018968086870_3749649385238545617_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6GVAA-KNhRSgsU1332MqqitCNIr4HTEm4MAHHsmOUNPuIBndZjS9642QrKgxSwaBHkOjP4l5GVvCtYt9dZb7OI1DZKjKynhkVJSVeZtpWT0NvlNqwHUGgaeC3qlTebPJy1d6R3rKOAUv/s1600/14611163_1286018968086870_3749649385238545617_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But it was a few days of frustration. On Monday I was told Dr Vance the surgeon could not see me until Tuesday, which meant I could not give a quote to the insurance company. On Tuesday Dr Vance gave the go-ahead for an operation on Thursday, but I could not get immediate confirmation of payment from the insurance company, which also affected my flight change. Should I just cut and run for home in the hope I could get an immediate operation there? The op needed to be carried out within about a week of the accident and we were already 3/4 days down the line. In the end it all came together - the insurance gave the go ahead, my op was confirmed for Thursday and I managed to change my flight to Saturday. Jim agreed to board Lady until I came back, which I hoped would be just after Christmas. Lucy dropped my stuff over so I could sort it out and pack up non necessary items to take home. <br />
So on<strong> Thursday 3rd November </strong>instead of being well on my way from Sacramento to the coast, I was under the surgeon's knife in the Marshall Medical Centre in Placerville having pins put into my wrist. Many many thanks to Jack and Barbara who took me in, and particularly to Barbara who insisted on staying at the hospital to support me all afternoon. I had a day's recovery on Friday, and Ginger kindly drove me all the way in to Sacramento to catch my flight on <strong>Saturday 5th November. </strong> Unfortunately my arm was aching overnight and I made another bad decision - this time to take the higher dose of painkiller. As a result I was feeling like death warmed up on the way to the airport and boarding my flight to Houston, but thankfully by the time I boarded my second flight to Heathrow I had recovered a little and even managed to get some sleep. Daughter Gwenny was waiting to pick me up and hand me over to husband Iestyn for the final drive back home where I slept round the clock!<br />
I have to give a huge thank you to Jim and Ginger for looking after me so well - I am eternally grateful for your support and hospitality. I had originally been invited to stay overnight, but ended up staying over a week. But as Gloria pointed out, I could not have chosen a better place!Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-47672013736575928252017-03-03T00:58:00.001+00:002017-03-04T17:22:51.234+00:00The Brockliss BridgeThe Brockliss Bridge crossed the South Fork of the American river near Pacific House, just to the west of Pollock Pines. The original wooden structure was built there by Anthony Richard Brockliss in 1855/6 before a more substantial bridge was constructed in 1958 and used by wagons, stage coaches and pony express riders. With the discovery of the Comstock Lode near Virginia City, traffic across the bridge increased and a toll was introduced. <br />
<br />
The bridge eventually collapsed in 1869 through wear and neglect, but a replacement was built in 1926 to take logging trucks. This bridge (known as the Blair Bridge) also became redundant, particularly as through traffic now used US50 which crossed the river at Riverton. Rather than repair and maintain the bridge, in 1988 the controversial decision was made to destroy it. The sad fact is that the subsequent clear-up operation apparently cost more than it would have cost to repair the bridge for trail use. Subsequent campaigns to build a new footbridge at this point have so far come to nothing although pressure is still being applied. <br />
<br />
The removal of the bridge created a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxmhJ4VWvb8" target="_blank">gap in the Pony Express Trail</a> at this point as the American river flows through a steep gorge unfordable by horse here, and the only alternative involves a four mile stretch of Highway 50 between Riverton and Pacific House. Not only is this strictly too dangerous to negotiate by horse, but although the NPEA re-ride received police permission one year to ride along the highway, in practice they were prevented from doing so by a patrol officer.<br />
<br />
The NPEA overcome this during the re-ride by taking the mochila off the incoming horse on one side of the river and sending it across the gorge on a pulley system. On the other side of the river the mochila is then placed on another horse for the next leg of the ride.<br />
As I was not changing horses, the only way I could overcome this obstacle was to ride the three miles down from the nearest road to the bridge site on the eastern side and back again, before being trailered round on Highway 50 to do the same on the other side. I was most grateful that Jim offered to do the honours, and on <strong>Thursday 27th October</strong> he dropped me off on a wet morning to make my way down to the bridge site, having given me careful directions.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mg5yJwaJ5NqCp9CMXiE-BWllRnYkpFqoRO1Q6ssB6q721ZEZPGsKogC2ElRDI4r7bJ2ONPDXG1vIWItQNDRH30vFfLarCL68HlbkbyX6so_xCW7lZMyO3_b-L65bntsfbq19asCmEByz/s1600/WetMorningPXtrailNrRiverton1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mg5yJwaJ5NqCp9CMXiE-BWllRnYkpFqoRO1Q6ssB6q721ZEZPGsKogC2ElRDI4r7bJ2ONPDXG1vIWItQNDRH30vFfLarCL68HlbkbyX6so_xCW7lZMyO3_b-L65bntsfbq19asCmEByz/s320/WetMorningPXtrailNrRiverton1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Lady and I arrive safely on the eastern side of the gorge, which is difficult to see through the trees...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycr5EfstYlDcILPYByuhvW_2s14z0xJlM8Fy4Da7z15UIDEhZryXfh_u03qhDKXZ3QEu7coZDCh-aQciMF-QtlQnLLt_F0_9oYeuAZ8eF_oC0hWcFU5j6oMNptYpJ6qyUbhwkgGSygjJr/s1600/BrocklissBridgeE2Crop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycr5EfstYlDcILPYByuhvW_2s14z0xJlM8Fy4Da7z15UIDEhZryXfh_u03qhDKXZ3QEu7coZDCh-aQciMF-QtlQnLLt_F0_9oYeuAZ8eF_oC0hWcFU5j6oMNptYpJ6qyUbhwkgGSygjJr/s320/BrocklissBridgeE2Crop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...however the metal pole protruding on the right hand side is part of the pulley system for transporting the mochila across the river. <br />
Then back up to the road where Jim soon turned up, and round to Pacific House where it was only about half a mile down a steep track to the river on the western side...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifC3fIzJbLMmIWejkjwn9S0Bgb1GBklg2LWXDu2KNDGf822HxkQ2i7GQv_lCLc8V8rUqxX7apMRkBbMqB_-Ppho29qGelPltznwqZdeP9HAdJMPts2f8UDrE_TC-TotNz765OW02IKIXXr/s1600/BrocklissBridgeW1crop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifC3fIzJbLMmIWejkjwn9S0Bgb1GBklg2LWXDu2KNDGf822HxkQ2i7GQv_lCLc8V8rUqxX7apMRkBbMqB_-Ppho29qGelPltznwqZdeP9HAdJMPts2f8UDrE_TC-TotNz765OW02IKIXXr/s320/BrocklissBridgeW1crop1000.jpg" width="293" /></a></div>
You may just be able to see part of the concrete support for the bridge behind Lady. <br />
<br />
Lady by the Pony Express monument at Pacific House, where there was a Pony Express station. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxETnOpvDBAqkdk6YH310Xgi7kd6oF9SLE9TF123Y_l58iNj25qVHTouwGqQpu-iK-aR9pIkR4c1S-pX-D7hY1qouy7uPRWO2VoosE61EG7a7G0kLBBDWUjkptL8bdODFY3XFiPAhApGZm/s1600/PacificHouse1Crop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxETnOpvDBAqkdk6YH310Xgi7kd6oF9SLE9TF123Y_l58iNj25qVHTouwGqQpu-iK-aR9pIkR4c1S-pX-D7hY1qouy7uPRWO2VoosE61EG7a7G0kLBBDWUjkptL8bdODFY3XFiPAhApGZm/s320/PacificHouse1Crop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...before we negotiated a damp tunnel under Highway 50..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/MwcobTDlwaQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MwcobTDlwaQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
I met up with Jim and mount at Fresh Pond so he could guide me through a tricky section to Pollock Pines, then he left me to continue as far as I could along the Pony Express Highway/old Lincoln Highway before dark fell. On the way I passed the site of former Pony Express station of Sportman's Hall built in 1852 by John and James Blair. It was a sizeable and important home station reportedly with stabling for a thousand horses and mules! But I was past caring by this time and plodded on along the side of the road in the rain with traffic swishing past. It was a thorough relief to see Jim turn up with the trailer just the other side of Camino. I was wet, cold and tired, but had managed to get another six miles under my belt. Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-86345219176046320172017-03-02T23:03:00.000+00:002017-03-03T00:23:12.207+00:00Across the Sierra Nevada<strong>Tuesday 25th October </strong>The Pony Express trail used to roughly follow the route of the present Highway 50 down the valley of the South Fork American River through the Sierra Nevada in California. When US50 achieved Highway status in the late 1900s, improvements destroyed the old trail, and it was not until the Pony Express trail gained heritage status as a National Historic Trail that efforts were made to create an alternative route along the canyon. There is now a fabulous foot and mountain bike trail clinging along the hillside above the valley all the way from Johnson Pass/Echo Summit to the Brockliss Bridge near Pollock Pines. The following link from a mountain bike website shows the trail as far as Kyburz...<br />
<a href="https://www.mtbproject.com/trail/1559208/pony-express-trail-xp-and-lovers-leap-trail">https://www.mtbproject.com/trail/1559208/pony-express-trail-xp-and-lovers-leap-trail</a><br />
<br />
Scrambling up the hillside through the rocks in Huckleberry Canyon...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/bmd1Ivx9XD4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bmd1Ivx9XD4?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A rocky path...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8XNINGswWWFJadkVFaJ_Y9GEtJRFOi2GvIeIf5Esyo55uOSnK7gUlbu7zForevknYwSGSLIQX2r7zH6_r9Yx2irEJGUFpMxi9CRiYR1w8ZtrkYA91XV08Y0NLpX91v2RcB3zEuQVTLye/s1600/NarrowPathSierrsNevadacrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8XNINGswWWFJadkVFaJ_Y9GEtJRFOi2GvIeIf5Esyo55uOSnK7gUlbu7zForevknYwSGSLIQX2r7zH6_r9Yx2irEJGUFpMxi9CRiYR1w8ZtrkYA91XV08Y0NLpX91v2RcB3zEuQVTLye/s320/NarrowPathSierrsNevadacrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
The view is across the South Fork American River valley to Pyramid Creek...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/B8aNtamWGlU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/B8aNtamWGlU?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
Lady with local landmark Lovers' Leap in the background...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPSD3-kFxC0qmLeC5LWRoNBbcqa56jTj6KwwmWyv9g5RZAeXnufG7DIGSEwJhUIf65O3qGr_1f-rfkhlPaw0DKJIXTb8n8EJrZWx4vedVpEeuJRD7b5F1ublw3tLpfaTDKQHiUj8Zr9ux/s1600/LoversLeapLady2p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPSD3-kFxC0qmLeC5LWRoNBbcqa56jTj6KwwmWyv9g5RZAeXnufG7DIGSEwJhUIf65O3qGr_1f-rfkhlPaw0DKJIXTb8n8EJrZWx4vedVpEeuJRD7b5F1ublw3tLpfaTDKQHiUj8Zr9ux/s320/LoversLeapLady2p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This section of the trail was like a stony riverbed and we hobbled down to Strawberry Lodge which was the next Pony Express station. Although the distance from Echo Summit to Strawberry Lodge is only about seven miles as the crow flies, we took about five hours to pick our way along the steep hillside between rocks and trees, but in time to meet up with former NPEA President Jim Swigart at around midday..... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxmKtVLorSuGoGT40FC32U31CbFR9JOKCVBDr9kcAFSPd4P4po_K4Zic7r3nElkD2ldCaHlDyi1f5AV03pSxwkW3l2LqW2FnRXjicyDJTFA7jZITUKZ2I9ntiLHkLTczJizx-odeQs7i3/s1600/ArrivingStrawberryLodge1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxmKtVLorSuGoGT40FC32U31CbFR9JOKCVBDr9kcAFSPd4P4po_K4Zic7r3nElkD2ldCaHlDyi1f5AV03pSxwkW3l2LqW2FnRXjicyDJTFA7jZITUKZ2I9ntiLHkLTczJizx-odeQs7i3/s320/ArrivingStrawberryLodge1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
.......and of course it was a must to have a bite to eat there. The current lodge actually incorporates the old building, although it was moved from its original site about 1000ft further east during realignment of the highway. The name derives from a Mr Berry who ran the station for a period from 1859 and who apparently fed straw in place of hay. On the first eastward run of the Pony Express service when the Sierra Nevada was under snow, Bolivar Roberts left from here with a string of mules to help rider Warren Upson get through - the mules being able to pack down a path through the drifts. </div>
Jim rode with me over the next section to near the site of Webster's station at Kyburz..... <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/DByDPC3W7bU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DByDPC3W7bU?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
...regaling me with stories of the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. <br />
<br />
Lucy met us near the former site of the Pony Express station at Webster's Sugar Loaf House, below Sugar Loaf Mountain to the west of Kyburz where there was a camp site and even a little corral, though I opted for our usual one. <br />
The first part of the trail the next day <strong>Wednesday 26th October</strong> was along a very narrow pretty track clinging round the base of Sugar Loaf Mountain ....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknUvX4jk0lUiSDO79c7RXogHdnGz0VTYzRcoOIp0vVoDvOYkURNeq06FSX4Wgta2d90cLPJEed2COHJ4t-nRrQobUgNofmKEwubswb3rLZahIpaVTGeimwTQk5eXec_28JpHQwUiskFNE/s1600/LadyBoulderPXtrailedit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknUvX4jk0lUiSDO79c7RXogHdnGz0VTYzRcoOIp0vVoDvOYkURNeq06FSX4Wgta2d90cLPJEed2COHJ4t-nRrQobUgNofmKEwubswb3rLZahIpaVTGeimwTQk5eXec_28JpHQwUiskFNE/s320/LadyBoulderPXtrailedit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Parts of it had been blocked by recent tree falls...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixs-278P8hyphenhyphen2OvZJReZHvU2mzMJbvbYWRvF3Md1Vf90kGT7u2urpBlLDB-sOgw3Aod08CJQ_qic0G2mbrfwcg_aR3XfVo_EJgJfZ-ZXwrHt3DD8ELaM3SAU6v79ABRRRqIdgtfdAqXn_NS/s1600/LogJamCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixs-278P8hyphenhyphen2OvZJReZHvU2mzMJbvbYWRvF3Md1Vf90kGT7u2urpBlLDB-sOgw3Aod08CJQ_qic0G2mbrfwcg_aR3XfVo_EJgJfZ-ZXwrHt3DD8ELaM3SAU6v79ABRRRqIdgtfdAqXn_NS/s320/LogJamCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
../ but we managed to scramble round somehow. <br />
Looking back to Sugar Loaf Mountain....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SA5gfivVaSQpwxHI9MbWUAqyoeMLJiYaDu6SsTI4ybZP-q6i13rJ1sqJPiPmmuwfWbOTPkaAXlt0vdEIdlMpyGHoBbZeMmqTNW_NItaCuqbE039S6TYzIko8S8oZVCqTC4bLcRvEFd2Y/s1600/LadySugarloaf1crop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SA5gfivVaSQpwxHI9MbWUAqyoeMLJiYaDu6SsTI4ybZP-q6i13rJ1sqJPiPmmuwfWbOTPkaAXlt0vdEIdlMpyGHoBbZeMmqTNW_NItaCuqbE039S6TYzIko8S8oZVCqTC4bLcRvEFd2Y/s320/LadySugarloaf1crop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We eventually came out onto Weber Mill road, a good earth track winding westwards. But then we came to this topsy turvy notice, warning of roadworks ahead.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXj6Xh05U1D4KIzNk6_ktJkrVXcBm2CsMPL9YVrv590EQ2XpSEZyRGUUJexqqYL8P8UL09vZSD9alF8JD9WwxrvqWLZAnuGZKuFCw7XrRQVsGCaVGj_djN025XNGs6HfWi_nuJ1BeMuqb5/s1600/EquipmentRdwyCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXj6Xh05U1D4KIzNk6_ktJkrVXcBm2CsMPL9YVrv590EQ2XpSEZyRGUUJexqqYL8P8UL09vZSD9alF8JD9WwxrvqWLZAnuGZKuFCw7XrRQVsGCaVGj_djN025XNGs6HfWi_nuJ1BeMuqb5/s320/EquipmentRdwyCrop1000.jpg" width="312" /></a></div>
..and for the next few miles Lady and I were dodging enormous trucks dumping gravel for a new tarmac surface. By the time I had negotiated them and another section of winding trail I realised it was pushing it to reach my intended destination of the Brockliss Bridge (of which more later). Jim had kindly offered to put Lady and I up at his house in Pollock Pines which was not far away, so I gratefully accepted, while Lucy drove back to her home near Sacramento for a couple of days . Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-32379384150044280372017-03-02T14:53:00.002+00:002017-04-22T18:37:20.668+01:00California Here I Come...but thankfully not right back where I started from. Early morning on <strong>Sunday October 23rd </strong>and hostess Kim Harris comes out in her dressing gown to see us leave..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PdSXJXj9AxMx7WvdpdCecdd2dHdsNf32NrVCMHLoLgjZPQ0e9L2FEL0wWhegUJ5pji3fZ42JL8pRaYgKqQSIXniIDdI1AdWVElVBlcVnTg8SY8yOa4VJaht1phhgpw6PecoTBInCqqoj/s1600/GenoaLucyKimHarrisCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PdSXJXj9AxMx7WvdpdCecdd2dHdsNf32NrVCMHLoLgjZPQ0e9L2FEL0wWhegUJ5pji3fZ42JL8pRaYgKqQSIXniIDdI1AdWVElVBlcVnTg8SY8yOa4VJaht1phhgpw6PecoTBInCqqoj/s320/GenoaLucyKimHarrisCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
A quick stop at the Genoa Pony Express Monument on the way out of town...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlt0XY_5IaqT0SmG_cDQNuRNyYO0mB6_l9zMCNuMXXXKD7WbDmUdVkNZUhTzmzMTWtLT2isN-EnufanYi_YAXTl4AtC_7rlusyRRiQbcj2XOgMcganPT0oqo0TasBtlMY5Fjg8Dd3BsET/s1600/LadyPXmonumentGenoaCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlt0XY_5IaqT0SmG_cDQNuRNyYO0mB6_l9zMCNuMXXXKD7WbDmUdVkNZUhTzmzMTWtLT2isN-EnufanYi_YAXTl4AtC_7rlusyRRiQbcj2XOgMcganPT0oqo0TasBtlMY5Fjg8Dd3BsET/s320/LadyPXmonumentGenoaCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This is across the road from the museum and marks the site of the original Mandlebaum and Klauber's store which also doubled up as a Pony Express station for a while. <br />
After a couple of miles we came to Walley's Hot Springs where there has been a spa since 1862. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYmf8aybsRxqYrMOlzyLSI2ETfZcI8MymrOTd2vregSKUK6-WsJmdKaKNOoJSvUTh4TBtUXL4Bkv_jcB9bmjui4i5t18HlgzVCnd_25MAdy4csy_ux2Vpm9twtsru2kmhF-1VmY6kW4GC/s1600/GenoaHotSpringsCentreCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYmf8aybsRxqYrMOlzyLSI2ETfZcI8MymrOTd2vregSKUK6-WsJmdKaKNOoJSvUTh4TBtUXL4Bkv_jcB9bmjui4i5t18HlgzVCnd_25MAdy4csy_ux2Vpm9twtsru2kmhF-1VmY6kW4GC/s320/GenoaHotSpringsCentreCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Famous visitors over the years have included Mark Twain, Ulysses Grant, Clark Gable, Baby-Face Nelson, and more recently Rowena. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rKEeKvzkf1393t9rllhIftHPoSGZOycbk_B6KV4BFtKNQ8AIlFeaFbLdoW0BsH15krLhE6YLS_QsnDhfB0J-OJWA51sxL9Unrc87S0xALBDDNFzu0IBwtKqMqCv-_N15Oif4TXYFDBtK/s1600/GenoaHotSprings4p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rKEeKvzkf1393t9rllhIftHPoSGZOycbk_B6KV4BFtKNQ8AIlFeaFbLdoW0BsH15krLhE6YLS_QsnDhfB0J-OJWA51sxL9Unrc87S0xALBDDNFzu0IBwtKqMqCv-_N15Oif4TXYFDBtK/s320/GenoaHotSprings4p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
After advice from Petra, we had opted to follow the original Pony Express route which looped south of the Carson Range through Woodfords and over Luther Pass. The alternative route which was being used within a few weeks of the start of the Pony Express service was a short cut over the Carson Range to Lake Tahoe soon after leaving Genoa, following the steep valley shown in the photo below....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfqm0ap6C644gOoDERU7CaVoqkaCh4tJ2XbWSh686mutO4gUEtif5PBpULkJ6De8VUCHdVSB5R2lWa_qQxRZwJk114RMKDwrAHm_Gbq6IEAo-zuDCHSt7LBq-b7uMiW3Nq4IiHhmmXcmn/s1600/PXstablesCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfqm0ap6C644gOoDERU7CaVoqkaCh4tJ2XbWSh686mutO4gUEtif5PBpULkJ6De8VUCHdVSB5R2lWa_qQxRZwJk114RMKDwrAHm_Gbq6IEAo-zuDCHSt7LBq-b7uMiW3Nq4IiHhmmXcmn/s320/PXstablesCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Notice the rather dilapidated but relevant sign for the Pony Express Stables in the foreground, (a modern establishment I hasten to add). From here the riders scrambled up the steep Kingsbury Grade and crossed the Daggett Pass and down to Friday's Station by Lake Tahoe (then called Lake Bigler). If the track was impassable due to winter snows the longer but easier Woodfords route was used, and that was the way we went. <br />
<br />
Not very welcoming...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV44CBleRZHhEmXDmdoEb89c6HuJ4q1tyjaaEg2iQjyApSmtSYQOpZjAZ8zTVPHofSslhET5TmCrYVKAvbkcY8YiKSgDghjz5W0wInqADlWbcDsfnyykxm_ZhMB1SuFzD7nanfj0udpC3B/s1600/GoaWayCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV44CBleRZHhEmXDmdoEb89c6HuJ4q1tyjaaEg2iQjyApSmtSYQOpZjAZ8zTVPHofSslhET5TmCrYVKAvbkcY8YiKSgDghjz5W0wInqADlWbcDsfnyykxm_ZhMB1SuFzD7nanfj0udpC3B/s320/GoaWayCrop1000.jpg" width="314" /></a></div>
This photo shows the Carson Range not far from the modern vehicle turnoff for the Kingsbury Grade, and gives an idea of what the riders were facing by taking this short cut. You can see there is already a sprinkling of snow on the peaks. <br />
A muppet is out to support me on my way ....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKH6ze4Tl7mYXAVn06QEvcPokHvPRCSQHZSyeC0eccn3r_uOWF5rCKQGHtgshMo4smbCc0EXnYqq0IcHw_vWFV4SoH9qQeGnykdCr23CaX9Y5G1DHoyw7Z7lyi6xXrJG4rm0BrnFL6Hj1/s1600/MuppetCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKH6ze4Tl7mYXAVn06QEvcPokHvPRCSQHZSyeC0eccn3r_uOWF5rCKQGHtgshMo4smbCc0EXnYqq0IcHw_vWFV4SoH9qQeGnykdCr23CaX9Y5G1DHoyw7Z7lyi6xXrJG4rm0BrnFL6Hj1/s320/MuppetCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
.......crossing the border into California!....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgqScd9ofOOL3r1uq3RnGjxrsBcoWb0YFxgKX9TGHQHQk6hbmXSHV3Ztj-9GZlw3vOxTfYeyhUixNw9h7i0wyiXo7oUrkkVzBvxwByPL9ts_B1rKbZ7lvEAQpWk1_ZCLVZi__BBTEjwgJ/s1600/14572833_1279384538750313_6209146630175693951_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgqScd9ofOOL3r1uq3RnGjxrsBcoWb0YFxgKX9TGHQHQk6hbmXSHV3Ztj-9GZlw3vOxTfYeyhUixNw9h7i0wyiXo7oUrkkVzBvxwByPL9ts_B1rKbZ7lvEAQpWk1_ZCLVZi__BBTEjwgJ/s1600/14572833_1279384538750313_6209146630175693951_n.jpg" /></a></div>
By the Pony Express monument at Woodfords..... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6FK_Vq7UXT7iVMBLp9YrwPwA9ssNVHcEgfBRgMJX9OkR3iNL3Fu5a_77cCcT0GPkDTSVWfOwTKDBLee4AUCu2HWJRxtMhhQ05VX59fWXUHgHqNuGq2yA7iTGKcUc6Xm0Iv_rqKx8HsIF/s1600/MeLadyWoodfordsCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6FK_Vq7UXT7iVMBLp9YrwPwA9ssNVHcEgfBRgMJX9OkR3iNL3Fu5a_77cCcT0GPkDTSVWfOwTKDBLee4AUCu2HWJRxtMhhQ05VX59fWXUHgHqNuGq2yA7iTGKcUc6Xm0Iv_rqKx8HsIF/s320/MeLadyWoodfordsCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
A little further on up the deep valley we found a peaceful camp spot in beautiful surroundings at Crystal Springs beneath Cary Peak....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgiHqODSN8iD6xVY-VaD19ad9vR2ltxCG3dJps7kab8GwWCmmWPPv3oKV-pcuvqVVoYeGihLCwRlOONtZ6JbepeQxYwgahVsxWQH75w4eDZwxPtdECwaI2wUTbhd0dwtTwJs6HxfJNYXd/s1600/CrystalSpringsCampCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgiHqODSN8iD6xVY-VaD19ad9vR2ltxCG3dJps7kab8GwWCmmWPPv3oKV-pcuvqVVoYeGihLCwRlOONtZ6JbepeQxYwgahVsxWQH75w4eDZwxPtdECwaI2wUTbhd0dwtTwJs6HxfJNYXd/s320/CrystalSpringsCampCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
But not as sheltered as it appeared, as a storm blew in overnight with a howling gale and rain. The rig swayed and great pine cones clonked on the roof. Lady was relatively sheltered on the lee side of the trailer with a rug on, but I was relieved when the wind eventually began to die down near dawn.<br />
The following morning <strong>Monday October 24th</strong> we tramped off along the road to Meyers in the cold and wet, over Luther Pass and down the other side...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/0ods_zfFwJ8/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0ods_zfFwJ8?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
Meyers was the location of Yank's station (named after owner Ephraim 'Yank' Clement), where there was a large three storey hotel with adjacent corral, barn, and stabling. Besides functioning as a stage station, it was also used by the Pony Express. However it was destroyed by fire in 1938 and a supermarket stands in its place. <br />
Near this point the trail rejoins the route over Daggett Pass and starts to climb up the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada to Johnson Pass. I had been a little worried about negotiating this pass, but conveniently it is possible for foot traffic to use an abandoned section of road which has been replaced by the new Highway 50.... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAvgAJ6aHxRJx1C2kGwqUTfnYc-ybjnGNpwEB_zm-VsUI9rnOGTjmE2mJ4JlDdsySSqlZL1kcKmAZg3Zybn02TwyKieLit2IuPLwK5-GKZ7JRjOTHCvZ3OBqNyGk9hYD9YbahsABb-Rna/s1600/OldRoadCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAvgAJ6aHxRJx1C2kGwqUTfnYc-ybjnGNpwEB_zm-VsUI9rnOGTjmE2mJ4JlDdsySSqlZL1kcKmAZg3Zybn02TwyKieLit2IuPLwK5-GKZ7JRjOTHCvZ3OBqNyGk9hYD9YbahsABb-Rna/s320/OldRoadCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
....though the fallen rocks littering the upper sections were a trifle worrying!.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwek7TojhRnu2BGKmZM8nttwYYhS7dfYOo3a0HYR_iV8M80xpTlk3eyo_bB1b3koN1mGPpssPHy_LJLu0npVVnww7nSZxi3iOPrln-ut_qvQ3I_gqMH58OGZQulk-bQ12lB9JsJjGkqTDC/s1600/FallenBouldersCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwek7TojhRnu2BGKmZM8nttwYYhS7dfYOo3a0HYR_iV8M80xpTlk3eyo_bB1b3koN1mGPpssPHy_LJLu0npVVnww7nSZxi3iOPrln-ut_qvQ3I_gqMH58OGZQulk-bQ12lB9JsJjGkqTDC/s320/FallenBouldersCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It was a long steep climb which involved a tricky crossing of Highway 50, but we reached the top unscathed by falling rocks and traffic.<br />
Did I really climb all the way up from there? Lady surveys the view from Johnson's Pass on the old road ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JYIIrJjf4tY4D3Z8m8T6thmyejwLyOBV7sYdvIPCRWAYrJjsJpN5bwIvt6Xqp-aqehI2nHQ2PP4_NXBzZbCYRNnjspDDEEvQcOveiUqVgHcda4lBBSVGxLMYREYLcBIySnEhoE3YqVG5/s1600/EchoSummitCrop650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JYIIrJjf4tY4D3Z8m8T6thmyejwLyOBV7sYdvIPCRWAYrJjsJpN5bwIvt6Xqp-aqehI2nHQ2PP4_NXBzZbCYRNnjspDDEEvQcOveiUqVgHcda4lBBSVGxLMYREYLcBIySnEhoE3YqVG5/s320/EchoSummitCrop650.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
You may just be able to see the blue glint of Lake Tahoe, where Friday's Station was located. Woodfords is off to the right. <br />
We found a place to park up overnight just beyond the summit and no snow imminently forecast. A relief as the tracks through the Sierra Nevada become impassable once heavy snow falls, usually at the end of October/beginning of November. In a couple of days I would be far enough down the western flank of the mountains to be clear of danger. Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-43468757258737929212017-03-01T21:59:00.000+00:002017-07-12T10:03:39.863+01:00Down the Carson Valley<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Friday 21st October</strong> Morning mist over the Carson River as we make our way along Fort Churchill road to Dayton...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqYjSKf9GhNSGQhWNbKoMvNAIsJ6Hud-p2b5yp5VufnXR0eNMWgHjwBuqfpLUUw9qe8c6rCg9CxUBMSF5ULirpAQ-dTaePEqnLRBN0m7Iu_FcafGwXX08zx1U215nW_dhCuDpPCGh9XNO/s1600/CarsonRiverMist1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqYjSKf9GhNSGQhWNbKoMvNAIsJ6Hud-p2b5yp5VufnXR0eNMWgHjwBuqfpLUUw9qe8c6rCg9CxUBMSF5ULirpAQ-dTaePEqnLRBN0m7Iu_FcafGwXX08zx1U215nW_dhCuDpPCGh9XNO/s320/CarsonRiverMist1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Burton commented that every few miles there was now a drinking "calaboose" where "women peeped out of log huts". No sign of these, but there was a grand bull in a field by the Carson river..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tgWlXcqMbKIBEpFw3HTQ1OyZethXGNLuezIeWYx2xcKPfcgMyi4VBFFkr1nD2w_sNqERyZmRdKyDV1xN-OfT1ZCR7qv52PC1RsizhGUCXSN0P9RwPARpq2gvheMsqi9suK4D4-YDPLlX/s1600/BullCarsonRiverCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tgWlXcqMbKIBEpFw3HTQ1OyZethXGNLuezIeWYx2xcKPfcgMyi4VBFFkr1nD2w_sNqERyZmRdKyDV1xN-OfT1ZCR7qv52PC1RsizhGUCXSN0P9RwPARpq2gvheMsqi9suK4D4-YDPLlX/s320/BullCarsonRiverCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Nothing remains of Miller's Pony Express way station, which was at a ferry and ford point near here. Burton describes sitting "round the hot stove, eating bread and cheese, sausages and anchovies" on a cold wet day, though he seemed most heated by a pretty girl there! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We now reached Highway 50, and for the next few days we would be following alongside or on a highway. As far as Dayton there was a good track beside the road. Apparently Charlie Chaplin had preceded us..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBNcx7tLxbNJR6ZqeeoCxVQMaatcsU21m3XAilOCwIh6gERRpNtQheD2LZ6aKFzVX_9ZC04DiEqubIQX3E9SNDmQp9rOa9eymtgXHeKsZH7C1EUDrlxj_r8aDDj5w29rBW3vsDdwJsvbd/s1600/CharlieChaplin191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBNcx7tLxbNJR6ZqeeoCxVQMaatcsU21m3XAilOCwIh6gERRpNtQheD2LZ6aKFzVX_9ZC04DiEqubIQX3E9SNDmQp9rOa9eymtgXHeKsZH7C1EUDrlxj_r8aDDj5w29rBW3vsDdwJsvbd/s1600/CharlieChaplin191.jpg" /></a></div>
Dayton, originally known as Chinatown due to the number of Chinese miners, had a Pony Express way station at two consecutive locations. Both are long since gone, one now a gravel pit (Spafford's Hall station), the other on the site of the present <a href="https://www.unionhoteldayton.com/" target="_blank">Union Hotel</a>, though the latter has a free-standing rock wall which is part of the old station. Over the top to Carson City we had to negotiate a stretch with only a narrow verge. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoIfAqR7UQAXuKO_G0kxYBv712BH__gebXaSKZcHQJ1mqahZpWtXZrs9bzfn_qrsW_xKtsGebjPCCziYj9J-LNSagJCh0Bz3eCPOItmX8IxAV55eTG-idu6EGAEWiB3TuiqgdMgPnhcXcS/s1600/MustangSignDaytonCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoIfAqR7UQAXuKO_G0kxYBv712BH__gebXaSKZcHQJ1mqahZpWtXZrs9bzfn_qrsW_xKtsGebjPCCziYj9J-LNSagJCh0Bz3eCPOItmX8IxAV55eTG-idu6EGAEWiB3TuiqgdMgPnhcXcS/s320/MustangSignDaytonCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Unfortunately the sign was a warning to watch for stray mustangs rather than round the world riders, and the traffic did not slow down an iota. <br />
Coming down to Carson City, and my camera has decided it is time to introduce artistic effects again...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZ2T0DL5v8nOeDDjC3IIhFJE7j_rZkPDkWffZDBRR65wzx2ZWmpNdTWfsgCXwUwt_mvH5Bv6l_05M1lIwVimMZVnXA3m7i9QojLSIFVfz1q1IGEUbAQwn9t4JEOAXBRWLupQT7fXnUGan/s1600/CarsonCityArrivalCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZ2T0DL5v8nOeDDjC3IIhFJE7j_rZkPDkWffZDBRR65wzx2ZWmpNdTWfsgCXwUwt_mvH5Bv6l_05M1lIwVimMZVnXA3m7i9QojLSIFVfz1q1IGEUbAQwn9t4JEOAXBRWLupQT7fXnUGan/s320/CarsonCityArrivalCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We found a patch of open ground on the edge of town to stop overnight, and on <strong>Saturday October 22nd </strong>we made our way through Carson City. A Puffing Billy by the flyover...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfpwgLDczYHd7SzMhdEgs63k0aiGHpItZBqIaR3gE4QCwJ-JHq9-Yxftot-beNfaMQ3J5LGTW43aOr2xF2ke1KZokMo9CmzYlahAMSH_2h4ULxCb-xDCECdBH_VU-wQBGdAQ9MQJB91ja/s1600/PuffingBillyCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfpwgLDczYHd7SzMhdEgs63k0aiGHpItZBqIaR3gE4QCwJ-JHq9-Yxftot-beNfaMQ3J5LGTW43aOr2xF2ke1KZokMo9CmzYlahAMSH_2h4ULxCb-xDCECdBH_VU-wQBGdAQ9MQJB91ja/s320/PuffingBillyCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...only a metal cut-out, but a reminder that the <a href="http://nvdtca.org/nevadastaterailroadmuseumcarsoncity/" target="_blank">Nevada State Railroad Museum</a> is located in Carson City, with a working steam engine trundling around outside, as I discovered to my slight concern when I rode past. Lady is fascinated as the Virginia and Truckee steam train chuffs towards us ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP7v5pq3z7a4MY3JkRTy_Zy_1WI3kCulr5EfbElFvt83r67GD8ZwWNDjBDn5uUCWi7gExxkxrUEwRL6OdxKY0K9nptBAH1DywTaVNq3DzoHhJawImRp4PEc8HuD71xY24uSLEdv-cr11i/s1600/RailwayMuseumCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP7v5pq3z7a4MY3JkRTy_Zy_1WI3kCulr5EfbElFvt83r67GD8ZwWNDjBDn5uUCWi7gExxkxrUEwRL6OdxKY0K9nptBAH1DywTaVNq3DzoHhJawImRp4PEc8HuD71xY24uSLEdv-cr11i/s320/RailwayMuseumCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...but she held her ground and my fears of reaching our destination ahead of schedule were unfounded.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Carson River and subsequently Carson City were named after the famous mountain man Kit Carson, who was employed as a guide on Charles Fremont's 1843 expedition to the area. The small settlement expanded rapidly after discovery of gold and silver at the nearby Comstock Lode, and soon after it was chosen as capital of the territory of Nevada (which became a state in 1864 following the Civil War). </div>
<br />
Petra had shown me a quiet route through the backstreets, passing close to the site of the Carson City Pony Express station which no longer exists. A couple of hours later I was on the Jacks Valley Road which follows the line of the trail ... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRlO7cZIgOeT7SRfo3Zd2dWTNapv0AdYzlKe5A8moV8-y-fb4qor3I1Toea-bkTnP4xHtCJzMoPGszhz0PTwwP6QdbCNmP8XxCBujwtRS5e5bS24EPmbiWLc_OX4t3vgNv1iYUG_1SSAb/s1600/LeavingCarsonCity1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRlO7cZIgOeT7SRfo3Zd2dWTNapv0AdYzlKe5A8moV8-y-fb4qor3I1Toea-bkTnP4xHtCJzMoPGszhz0PTwwP6QdbCNmP8XxCBujwtRS5e5bS24EPmbiWLc_OX4t3vgNv1iYUG_1SSAb/s320/LeavingCarsonCity1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...and it was another eight miles to the pretty town of Genoa (pronounced with the stress on the 'o' rather than the 'e'). Petra had sorted a place for us to camp there at the house of Kim and Doyle Harris with some grass for Lady to nibble... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpiZgFe1s6bmnNNskXaqbdY-N4B3UCtEwqyxrjAt3vngRm9BWXkO0mAibAnRwSlZj3eo_QvJEisO6hBcgfemgYfdPdebpXhX0quFvkk7Rg9z2HwhlcvbJ-qZ7mrB6DjLO2J5WBNZT5GL0/s1600/GenoaHarrisHouseCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpiZgFe1s6bmnNNskXaqbdY-N4B3UCtEwqyxrjAt3vngRm9BWXkO0mAibAnRwSlZj3eo_QvJEisO6hBcgfemgYfdPdebpXhX0quFvkk7Rg9z2HwhlcvbJ-qZ7mrB6DjLO2J5WBNZT5GL0/s320/GenoaHarrisHouseCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Genoa is the oldest town in what is now Nevada (although Dayton argues otherwise), and boasts some lovely old buildings. Founded in 1851 by Mormon pioneers, it was originally called Mormon Station. A log cabin served as a trading post and for a time as a way station for the Pony Express. You can see that it was ahead of its time as it even provided wheelchair access......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRelV63ZToyEVjTYACFN2dw6X0fN_lp5S972njHP8wpct0-9ei01hrSy7-sOlRAPOOVwsUiBz10rC9YkhvzCNeUYRf06a3AZnG6MBhIX0KBnMVW1d8Iep1e1uIQsRgT8rfvEde10b_nBnN/s1600/MormonStationGenoaCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRelV63ZToyEVjTYACFN2dw6X0fN_lp5S972njHP8wpct0-9ei01hrSy7-sOlRAPOOVwsUiBz10rC9YkhvzCNeUYRf06a3AZnG6MBhIX0KBnMVW1d8Iep1e1uIQsRgT8rfvEde10b_nBnN/s320/MormonStationGenoaCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...in fact the original station burned down in the early 1900s and this is a reproduction on the other side of the road which also serves as a museum.<br />
<br />
A rather attractive feature was the number of mule deer hanging around town and relaxing in the gardens..... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NtTcPConx6E1UkGeVYPyyBxXG8myz3Ujx62YcwkqiujqcAbg7m-YqRc4X2oHmvNjAS6OAS6JrtaXBSrz2gNh8E2hNTHmSwprVGvxSyT_l_NCwKz3n7bBSPulQCXx9IL5R4OsilllA_Wr/s1600/GenoaMuleDeerCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NtTcPConx6E1UkGeVYPyyBxXG8myz3Ujx62YcwkqiujqcAbg7m-YqRc4X2oHmvNjAS6OAS6JrtaXBSrz2gNh8E2hNTHmSwprVGvxSyT_l_NCwKz3n7bBSPulQCXx9IL5R4OsilllA_Wr/s320/GenoaMuleDeerCrop1000.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
..though not so attractive was the dead traffic victim on the road the next morning.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the evening Lucy and I met up with Rowena, Petra and the Cauhapes for a pre-prandial drink at the Genoa Bar and Saloon which claims to be the oldest continuously operating saloon in Nevada. We were in good company as it has also been patronised over the years by among others Mark Twain, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and Raquel Welch, who according to a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSc_EG2onjo" target="_blank">Youtube contribution</a> donated her bra to the proprietor's bra collection (!?) We emerged bras intact for a meal at the Genoa Inn, where I was able to sample my first and probably last glass of picon, an American Basque cocktail which can only be described as interesting. </div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-87022945732209438642017-02-26T17:32:00.000+00:002017-04-22T18:52:00.384+01:00The Desert is DoneOn <strong>Wednesday October 19th </strong>Petra's friend Sally kindly came to give Lady and me a lift back to the point where we had left off on the Schurz highway. Many thanks!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fG-Tl67dBDU2hp-b8U99lS2MDyX4-Ihe0vXwhba6KBIp5WRF5hcv5SUxPTGewELlYDS_XvjYSwZxfTVlOAyBX73DzJXdN7oisdMZ5DMvOZCCXKt7heb79bjyMFDY3tiTGpclcN7NTbOV/s1600/CarsonSinkcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fG-Tl67dBDU2hp-b8U99lS2MDyX4-Ihe0vXwhba6KBIp5WRF5hcv5SUxPTGewELlYDS_XvjYSwZxfTVlOAyBX73DzJXdN7oisdMZ5DMvOZCCXKt7heb79bjyMFDY3tiTGpclcN7NTbOV/s320/CarsonSinkcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This was near the site of Carson Sink Pony Express Station. Originally built by Bolivar Roberts and J Kelly in March 1860, it was constructed of adobe using alkali mud from the shore of Carson Lake, as there was no rock or wood available nearby. Not a pleasant job as their feet swelled up from tramping the mud in bare feet to create the right consistency! By October Burton describes "a frame house inside an adobe enclosure, and a pile of weed and a stout haystack". Very little now remains of the station but in its time it was quite substantial. Pony Bob Haslam reported on his famous ride in May that there were fifteen armed men and as many horses residing there. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
However Burton complained of the lack of hospitality, as the "surly cripple" at the station refused to supply them with wood for a fire, or even a cup of water. With regard to the latter they were "told to fetch it from the lake which was not more than a mile off, though as the road was full of quagmires it would be hard to travel at night" Burton chose to forgo his usual haystack to sleep on a side of bacon in the wagon, "deeply regretting that the Mormons do not extend somewhat further westward".</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady and I set off west on the day after Burton set off from this spot one hundred and fifty-four years before on October 18th 1860, though we were headed for Hooten Wells, where a Pony Express station did not exist in Burton's day. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We followed a sandy trail partly winding through low hills of the oddly named Dead Camel Mountains for about nineteen miles..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/HCm2FdG0Mjc/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HCm2FdG0Mjc?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
until we reached Hooten Wells. No sign of Lucy and no cell reception, but I found the water containers left by the Cauhapes hidden behind a low wall. Frustratingly I then discovered that I had forgotten my Ortlieb bucket so could not water Lady anyway. However the recent heavy rain had left a rather muddy pool of water - but what was that wily creature skulking in the bushes on the other side?....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/gp_yxjjxNtI/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gp_yxjjxNtI?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
..and in case you did not catch it, here is a still I made earlier...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFFi543U0uhR1d1KlUiMNhXBDJYqh1QOuGjOayodlCjGnPScc-DznzyvpS-Cdxfe6KNIMHyX9uYmSbkanQsRRMvX2rCColACzN9F21ABthsS6yPEPc67yuhrpf51PbRb9FBVIzccRpkcxm/s1600/HootenWellsCoyoteCrop2p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFFi543U0uhR1d1KlUiMNhXBDJYqh1QOuGjOayodlCjGnPScc-DznzyvpS-Cdxfe6KNIMHyX9uYmSbkanQsRRMvX2rCColACzN9F21ABthsS6yPEPc67yuhrpf51PbRb9FBVIzccRpkcxm/s320/HootenWellsCoyoteCrop2p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Looking across the Churchill valley to Churchill Butte. The ruins of Desert Wells Pony Express station are about one mile to the south-west of this point - probably the original station before the route moved further north in 1861.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I decided to carry on riding towards the main road at Bucklands as there was still no Lucy, but it soon became apparent why. The recent rain had turned the fine smooth surface of the track into a slippery sticky morass interrupted by pools of water..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE_LPIDdyj4n_SUfgi3PZZ-D3XGUOIvsKyp0FJVDX3ntSN29U3OeV29SPAKBBzmR0TdhSTqMTvCZzvFx34eQE6G5EmRyixKt7PqfTT86hJn_JrZqz116WSm_NL6K1jj-rVckARsbtvc3e/s1600/HootenWellsCampCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE_LPIDdyj4n_SUfgi3PZZ-D3XGUOIvsKyp0FJVDX3ntSN29U3OeV29SPAKBBzmR0TdhSTqMTvCZzvFx34eQE6G5EmRyixKt7PqfTT86hJn_JrZqz116WSm_NL6K1jj-rVckARsbtvc3e/s320/HootenWellsCampCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
..but I was relieved and amazed to find her waiting about three miles further on - you can just see the rig on the right in the middle distance. She had managed to make it nearly all the way before deciding it was too risky to continue! So I was saved a ride in the dark.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Thursday October 20th</strong> Ten miles further on and Lady and I reach the Carson River at Buckland Station to finish our crossing of the Nevada desert!...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs981Bw_UqFp4_9VP4kGHy1wE1dixLypu5zuCqI5mnSoqowJkpzk4FrDjYpDWdqSArfnElXY5UD3JTuUj_xpHV42XkQm2v4ScQ4eGkKmnRiMXrbhTTZ3etZcNx_eIwl83escEMIahObHz/s1600/CrossingCarsonRiverCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs981Bw_UqFp4_9VP4kGHy1wE1dixLypu5zuCqI5mnSoqowJkpzk4FrDjYpDWdqSArfnElXY5UD3JTuUj_xpHV42XkQm2v4ScQ4eGkKmnRiMXrbhTTZ3etZcNx_eIwl83escEMIahObHz/s320/CrossingCarsonRiverCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There used to be a toll bridge here built by Samuel Buckland in 1859-60 charging $1.00 for buggies and $0.25 for pedestrians. Don't know how we would have fitted in, but now it is free! Buckland also built a log cabin and saloon which were sited where the cottonwood trees are to the right of the road on the other side of the bridge. The log cabin was used as a Pony Express station until Fort Churchill was built in the summer of 1860. It was subsequently replaced by the present rather lovely building which was constructed by Buckland a few years later from materials acquired from the dismantling of Fort Churchill.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8k7FhiIm0mp0EJ7lpE73n66OAeMXveHCdiJGeZ5ZHuhfak16lfJ9YccT67DTHsyvoRFx6YSKsW2ffWKCtugDs65arAMC-cuQEPIEjoR9s85I2UXeJFWrCyWABm9KpIE0OFArQxRya0KgH/s1600/BucklandStationCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8k7FhiIm0mp0EJ7lpE73n66OAeMXveHCdiJGeZ5ZHuhfak16lfJ9YccT67DTHsyvoRFx6YSKsW2ffWKCtugDs65arAMC-cuQEPIEjoR9s85I2UXeJFWrCyWABm9KpIE0OFArQxRya0KgH/s320/BucklandStationCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This was where Pony Bob Haslam, having already covered his regular 75 miles between Friday's Station and here, substituted for the reluctant Johnson Richardson to make his famous record-breaking 380mile feat. The dapper chap below is Pony Bob himself who was born in London, England...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZb2EhkAjmxkLPSO86ZDV9rkd0u_IjTZREAbv6Ptp5aA-gHqkZHG4E5qfolllMm5a15oJIq6VdkwqHjbLPYChWqldZfoeU-9lXopLRR2Vci3IybZqamM41ibSArxNZ2VBYuMWD61ZXhSI9/s1600/Pony+Bob+Haslam.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZb2EhkAjmxkLPSO86ZDV9rkd0u_IjTZREAbv6Ptp5aA-gHqkZHG4E5qfolllMm5a15oJIq6VdkwqHjbLPYChWqldZfoeU-9lXopLRR2Vci3IybZqamM41ibSArxNZ2VBYuMWD61ZXhSI9/s1600/Pony+Bob+Haslam.gif" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Quite a guy, as it is also told that he rode 120 miles in 8 hours 20 minutes carrying Lincoln's inaugural address in March 1861.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong> </strong></div>
I have previously briefly mentioned the factors which sparked the Paiute War, and this war not only explained Richardson's reluctance to ride, but resulted in the complete shut down of the Pony Express service for three weeks in June 1860. This area was significant in the events that caused the troubles, so it will be relevant to describe the background in more detail.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There was already considerable discontent among native Indians at the impact of white man, and at the beginning of May 1860 the Paiutes, Bannocks and Shoshone were holding a council at Pyramid Lake to the north to discuss possible action, although Paiute chief Numaga was in favour of peace. But on May 7th an incident took place at Williams Station somewhere to the east of Buckland's that inflamed matters. Station keeper James Williams was away, leaving his two brothers David and Oscar in charge. Three visiting men, James Fleming, Dutch Phil and Samuel Sullivan, abducted (and according to some reports raped) some Paiute women, one of whom managed to escape and raise the alarm with her husband who was attending the council. A party of Paiute immediately went to rescue the women, killing and mutilating all the men including the Williams brothers. James Williams found the bodies on May 8th, the following day, and not knowing the circumstances, rushed back to Carson City to warn of an Indian uprising. An punitive volunteer force under Major Ormsby was quickly raised, and stayed at Buckland's on May 11th before setting off for Pyramid Lake, taking Pony Express horses with them. The Paiute War had started. </div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
However Ormsby's force was flung together and ill-organised and the expedition was a disaster. The volunteer force was routed by the Paiute and seventy-six of the party were killed, not counting wounded. Survivors of the battle straggled back to Buckland's over the next four days. Indian attacks then spread rapidly west along the central overland trail, resulting in many of the burnings and killings that have already been described.<br />
As a result of this uprising, Fort Churchill was established near Buckland's in summer 1860, and the Pony Express station was moved there.<br />
<br />
Many cattle grids in the US have side wings to stop cattle jumping the corner of the grid. They are usually fixed to the end fence post, but occasionally it is possible to swing them upright, as Lucy is doing here to allow me to lead Lady through to the Fort Churchill State Historic Park, where we stopped at midday.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgU9FILuBAPy8NKH3in1FKctHho07k6g1wBmM3OfuuR6Fl_3mN9I2I2dV2kRxM5ylysDqq3guyPRvbbN2iy8LVKAEnAqzaHWObFbpjUFZBtQffj6GBOBczMlYvpanFDPgIqATaLhOtI3A/s1600/LucyCattleGridFtChurchillcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgU9FILuBAPy8NKH3in1FKctHho07k6g1wBmM3OfuuR6Fl_3mN9I2I2dV2kRxM5ylysDqq3guyPRvbbN2iy8LVKAEnAqzaHWObFbpjUFZBtQffj6GBOBczMlYvpanFDPgIqATaLhOtI3A/s320/LucyCattleGridFtChurchillcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The commandants house is in a pretty site on a bluff overlooking the Carson River and the fort below. Remains of the many adobe buildings comprising the fort have been preserved but not fully restored. The former Pony Express office is the building to the right of the photo below, with barracks ahead. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5_-N9UCb6uFI0i28uReKwpVysmfv0VZQ6z4KDHlzxlBNLceB65UHTsZxnXhFJs-JusyauezP8PMf_IzIpBQIU8Qdyyb851EuEdArf51DlTg0yPiv1sp1GElxW9JNdDPFC4Ww6dmQZfIc/s1600/FortChurchilRuinscrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5_-N9UCb6uFI0i28uReKwpVysmfv0VZQ6z4KDHlzxlBNLceB65UHTsZxnXhFJs-JusyauezP8PMf_IzIpBQIU8Qdyyb851EuEdArf51DlTg0yPiv1sp1GElxW9JNdDPFC4Ww6dmQZfIc/s320/FortChurchilRuinscrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The fort was originally home to around 200 soldiers, but the only residents now are of the reptilian variety....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUgeyGm2QpP7EZ_kC3iHbSMd6jPJ26VN862uDikTuI6UTgge3kb5ebJ6IZn-kjYrVb-C1E_4flLxCSP5tMe9nVXKLBuj8mqYRecd4vtTeK2UhOtkPtChwt0xU-W0BZUdKGYHtVh1Th-OsX/s1600/2350RattlesnakeSignCrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUgeyGm2QpP7EZ_kC3iHbSMd6jPJ26VN862uDikTuI6UTgge3kb5ebJ6IZn-kjYrVb-C1E_4flLxCSP5tMe9nVXKLBuj8mqYRecd4vtTeK2UhOtkPtChwt0xU-W0BZUdKGYHtVh1Th-OsX/s320/2350RattlesnakeSignCrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Fort Churchill was abandoned in 1869, not long after the end of the Civil War, but it was not until 1961 that it was designated a National Monument.<br />
Riding down Fort Churchill Road along the Carson River valley to our evening camp spot.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/AR1Zs6qiCas/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AR1Zs6qiCas?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
The Carson river was lined with beautiful cottonwood in their autumn colours which Burton described as "a repose to our eyes". They really impressed on me that that in Burton's words "The desert was now "done"." </div>
Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-71808807469195881222017-02-26T01:20:00.000+00:002017-03-02T12:43:34.117+00:00Wet Washoe Weekend It turned out to be an excellent decision to retreat to Petra's in the Washoe valley as the heavens opened late afternoon<strong> </strong>on <strong>Saturday October 16th </strong>and continued through<strong> Sunday October 17th </strong>The view of Petra's yard from the house....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoBezQoQcKJ4ntzoJ6lHzoS8oyPagzA1uJ2UFHPu3gXj_eHX_9tZMuXEnLozhKumW_izNpbo0kDNlv3jAHHJTtyWVh-zhyphenhyphen38okZGTekjvDfh2ChlHSCFsF8EnNOID4YVm5SJYKo-UY5s4/s1600/14717240_1272268549461912_1810004588857874387_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoBezQoQcKJ4ntzoJ6lHzoS8oyPagzA1uJ2UFHPu3gXj_eHX_9tZMuXEnLozhKumW_izNpbo0kDNlv3jAHHJTtyWVh-zhyphenhyphen38okZGTekjvDfh2ChlHSCFsF8EnNOID4YVm5SJYKo-UY5s4/s200/14717240_1272268549461912_1810004588857874387_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<strong> .....b</strong>ut the horses were content in their field shelters..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZxihBJsL2WBHnRRzmU6TORUaR9sUKBaYvddhQim_HrljMtxZEXnaPrWn4uCYOjdl37rafEsOOzfz-MKuabBYk9Xt9Q9_IiBIOcLP88H5CD6-vNXGqzjU-eDB9tW0d4QLuDByJA5HEg7i/s1600/LadyWashoeShedcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><strong><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZxihBJsL2WBHnRRzmU6TORUaR9sUKBaYvddhQim_HrljMtxZEXnaPrWn4uCYOjdl37rafEsOOzfz-MKuabBYk9Xt9Q9_IiBIOcLP88H5CD6-vNXGqzjU-eDB9tW0d4QLuDByJA5HEg7i/s320/LadyWashoeShedcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></strong></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
and it was an opportunity for a little retail therapy in Carson City on Saturday for Rowena and I, who returned home clutching matching cowboy boots - well it had to be done!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had been concerned about negotiating the next waterless thirty-two mile section from the Schurz Highway to Buckland's, particularly as I was not sure if Lucy could access the Hooten Wells Pony Express site which lay out in the desert en route. However Petra had got in touch with Jeff and Sue Cauhape, local ham radio operators for the Pony Express, and they had agreed to leave a couple of containers of clean water out at Hooten Wells and check the state of the road. We all went for a meal that evening and Jeff and Sue reported a fine smooth earth track.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Still raining old women and walking sticks (as we say in Wales) on Sunday so Petra and Rowena got stuck into green tomato chutney making, while Lucy caught up with her diary..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eQtRrYYvFBOt1T7nN6k7j8p_LHqXxN-inTHYtVYVdfyq-33T2sEPFMQ39DBLUPLkCnc4u4JFK9pPGoy7OirU0PxJtRioi7wiCuv7uCCqitKrFNCI-VACm5_Ooart0N1YE5p9kXIq4dEo/s1600/PetraRoGreenChutney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eQtRrYYvFBOt1T7nN6k7j8p_LHqXxN-inTHYtVYVdfyq-33T2sEPFMQ39DBLUPLkCnc4u4JFK9pPGoy7OirU0PxJtRioi7wiCuv7uCCqitKrFNCI-VACm5_Ooart0N1YE5p9kXIq4dEo/s320/PetraRoGreenChutney.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Monday October 18th </strong>and the sun has come out at last...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlf6fSyRRcmWqyE-d6Hy4Ompptr9rCn8_PF7i75GfRN-P7WB2i6VZSV5bU9ykXFCkZqeM278sjGO-vpxk7aBK1OG1DrlqK0pwf98o7GXJKl2a8CXcqTTxpxeKjEkqiMZCYwHl5udmePNy8/s1600/14666324_1274807659208001_7445698029086211885_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlf6fSyRRcmWqyE-d6Hy4Ompptr9rCn8_PF7i75GfRN-P7WB2i6VZSV5bU9ykXFCkZqeM278sjGO-vpxk7aBK1OG1DrlqK0pwf98o7GXJKl2a8CXcqTTxpxeKjEkqiMZCYwHl5udmePNy8/s1600/14666324_1274807659208001_7445698029086211885_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
...and the mountains are now visible!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We had to wait until <strong>Tuesday October 19th</strong> for the appointment Petra booked with farrier David Howard and vet Dr Ian Lafoon of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lafoonedgeequine/?hc_location=ufi" target="_blank">Edge Equine</a>. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4G4I-0mrpmddwED7f1O9Ux4CIdhz2tDsScJvjCTxdIolC2TNRl1tgPRyljyEe4fjGy4bGGWRpJMp6Z6d88s4h8Nj2KcyLnYBuDTMrovZ7rvySfOLaQ-bvD-q13B97o5nenSvqdSGjpea/s1600/14721459_1274807695874664_4592374548019911926_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4G4I-0mrpmddwED7f1O9Ux4CIdhz2tDsScJvjCTxdIolC2TNRl1tgPRyljyEe4fjGy4bGGWRpJMp6Z6d88s4h8Nj2KcyLnYBuDTMrovZ7rvySfOLaQ-bvD-q13B97o5nenSvqdSGjpea/s1600/14721459_1274807695874664_4592374548019911926_n.jpg" /></a></div>
The horses had their vet papers for entry to California sorted, and a Coggins test for return to Utah, and David reshod Lady. Vet Ian (on right) also looked at Mo whose lameness was most likely caused by sore heels aggravated by a stone, and David reshod him with pads. But sadly it meant he was out of action, a huge disappointment for Rowena. But Petra very kindly looked after her until she flew home, and she managed to do some sightseeing. Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-58449927961823138342017-02-25T19:45:00.001+00:002017-03-02T14:45:28.749+00:00Hobbling Along<strong>Thursday October 14th. </strong>It immediately became evident when we set out the next morning that Mo was unsound. However he seemed to recover, and we put it down to a bruise or stiffness from a knock. <br />
In the photo below we have just ridden from the Sand Springs Range in the middle distance. Sand Springs Pony Express station lay at the foot of the great pale sand dune of Sand Mountain, which can be clearly seen to the left in front of the Stillwater Range. Since 1976 when the true location of the station was discovered, Cold Springs has been the focus of archaeological study. This was one of the places where extraction of numerous fragments of liquor containers suggest that Pony Express employees were not always as rigid in adhering to Majors' oath of abstinence from alcohol as he might have desired! The interpretive site lies near the US50 at the end of the promontory of the Sand Springs Range.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdm4niCubihAOh-_rXNsYQkpi7P25E-nEIS9dSOi4Rwi9aFJRlZhl_TB24bJl1Pko3esnJqnLDPIf23MzgWijaVadmvlqY275pJpik5zNqeKLFmjdUitMq0kV45x2lhDFdDI7Mt7bswfxl/s1600/SandSprRoMoEdit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdm4niCubihAOh-_rXNsYQkpi7P25E-nEIS9dSOi4Rwi9aFJRlZhl_TB24bJl1Pko3esnJqnLDPIf23MzgWijaVadmvlqY275pJpik5zNqeKLFmjdUitMq0kV45x2lhDFdDI7Mt7bswfxl/s320/SandSprRoMoEdit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Pony Express Station was built in March 1860 by Bolivar Roberts, J Kelly and others, and James McNaughton was the first station keeper, later becoming a rider. But by October 1860 Burton described it as "roofless and and chairless, filthy and squalid, with a smoky fire in one corner and a table on an impure floor, the walls open to every wind, and the interior full of dust".</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Unsurprisingly the water supply was not good "thick and stale with sulphury salts: it blistered even the hands". Perhaps a reason they turned to the demon drink.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We were deviating from the original Pony Express trail to follow the route of the re-ride, which loops south of the Salt Wells Basin. In the next photo Sand Mountain can be seen to the right - the original trail ran westwards (left) from there along the base of the Stillwater Range to cross Eightmile Flat, the alkali plain in the middle distance. Burton commented about this crossing "All off the road was dangerous ground: in one place the horses sank to their hocks and were not extracted without difficulty"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURDmwS_D6jcXEuMbls9Shcv5OiOo2_fahEMPAtAmTzLgsn8DcJ5o8nL1C4V8bQ6I4uJ4UmyaLUwQpoATDTQMyUT0KdnXyLxyYE0qqDFNaUia7WrtUA90Wk78h9bpW10gD1nHo2ntK7Zi6/s1600/FourmileFlat1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURDmwS_D6jcXEuMbls9Shcv5OiOo2_fahEMPAtAmTzLgsn8DcJ5o8nL1C4V8bQ6I4uJ4UmyaLUwQpoATDTQMyUT0KdnXyLxyYE0qqDFNaUia7WrtUA90Wk78h9bpW10gD1nHo2ntK7Zi6/s400/FourmileFlat1000.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
However we were taking a southerly route round the alkali flat, following a rough track along the base of the Cocoon Mountains, sometimes through rugged basalt rocks as seen here, sometimes through deep sand, but at least not a morass.<br />
From the US50 at Sand Springs to where the trail crossed the Schurz Highway south of Fallon was over 25 miles which I felt was too far for Mo to cover in a day. It was a waterless stretch not accessible by Lucy's rig except at one point I had identified - a rough but firm road ran from US50 to a thermal power station located on the trail by Simpson Pass in the Cocoon Mountains. We successfully rendezvoused there as the wind began to get up again. Once more we found a relatively sheltered spot, unfortunately right up against the power station fence where the strident throbbing of the turbines was loudest. But the wind died down, and the horses seemed to be soothed by the hearty humming, as demonstrated by Lady the following morning <strong>Friday October 15th</strong>...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbHLXNJDyQR8hCpASBxOaemxJfipvW5YWx2qi3i7D01zcuLl56bgFAPL9hZkm2CXgSXEsWi4B2i0JkFLZE6VbwbgNgrnoAnAnBC3Utl82XsNZCghpZyGYSXCSjQ4tr32RkGha0o4pLT63/s1600/MorningSnoozecrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbHLXNJDyQR8hCpASBxOaemxJfipvW5YWx2qi3i7D01zcuLl56bgFAPL9hZkm2CXgSXEsWi4B2i0JkFLZE6VbwbgNgrnoAnAnBC3Utl82XsNZCghpZyGYSXCSjQ4tr32RkGha0o4pLT63/s320/MorningSnoozecrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...and what a lovely sandy bed to lie on!<br />
The view from Carson Pass as we head west...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLpyMJWqp_3iXtaOldiK9EoKmh0xhi3Vzccn7ELw3LxP-RzRKYmHNvAMx3l9GgkutoSixMlV873YGwOK0bQl9xtFbDSntOyoBsQvBwE-yafXiAYu7RUT-6Ih69MpOZlZLuciKjy0SkGJF/s1600/ViewFromCarsonPassEdit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLpyMJWqp_3iXtaOldiK9EoKmh0xhi3Vzccn7ELw3LxP-RzRKYmHNvAMx3l9GgkutoSixMlV873YGwOK0bQl9xtFbDSntOyoBsQvBwE-yafXiAYu7RUT-6Ih69MpOZlZLuciKjy0SkGJF/s400/ViewFromCarsonPassEdit1000.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
The White Throne Mountains where we are headed rise up on the other side of the alkali Bass Flat. Carson Lake and Fallon lie off to the right. <br />
Crossing Bass Flat....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/BRRK3XAIjTA/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BRRK3XAIjTA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Rowena is walking as Mo's unsoundness had come back and worsened. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lady by the ruins of Wildcat Freight station (Allen's Station)..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDpyUjPZ9SN6vTSQq-U67bhgD8HFuWtPtkrwOUaz0wigPjSrTCFF4UAguRldhy4qGT_3BzospPi8L63kQzBrDpT7Fcc8NpMBC4RcX7jHm4yyTBsVmw6FPp9Tk8fmwe9J32gwBAoueBCiM/s1600/WildcatStationLadycrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDpyUjPZ9SN6vTSQq-U67bhgD8HFuWtPtkrwOUaz0wigPjSrTCFF4UAguRldhy4qGT_3BzospPi8L63kQzBrDpT7Fcc8NpMBC4RcX7jHm4yyTBsVmw6FPp9Tk8fmwe9J32gwBAoueBCiM/s320/WildcatStationLadycrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
The sign reads "These ruins are the remains of the Wildcat Freight Station founded in 1863 by Lemuel Allen this station was an important watering and rest stop on a turnpike which originated to the west of Fort Churchill and extended past Sand Mountain to the east. The turnpike closely followed a route taken by Capt James Simpson in 1859 and used by the Pony Express in 1860-1861".<br />
<br />
Another couple of hours brought us to the Schurz Highway where Lucy was waiting with the rig. But decisions had to be made. Mo was still visibly unsound, and the bad weather which had been forecast was now imminent, with heavy rain threatening. We had already planned to stay with Petra near Carson City for a couple of days and get the horses reshod, though I had hoped to make it to Fort Churchill where Petra had arranged to pick us up. But it now seemed expedient to give Mo a rest and sit the weather out. It was a couple of hours drive for Petra from her home in the Washoe valley to the north of Carson City to fetch the horses in her trailer, and this was particularly charitable as she had only just returned home after being evacuated due to wildfires!Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-68209295865223371102017-02-25T15:21:00.000+00:002017-03-02T11:41:54.130+00:00The Loneliest Road in America<strong>Tuesday October 12th</strong> The next couple of days were spent making our way alongside Highway US50, which follows the line of old Overland/Pony Express trail here. It has been branded as the 'Loneliest Road in America' rather misleadingly judging by semis roaring past at regular intervals. But there was also a good earth track running virtually all the way alongside the road... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSOGohbZLP-y_Tj5tdU__FMb9NUrAejmYRREGcTrX9C76LiNlulKMph09lqJPYqJwrWIryZQeNIJJLZ-leip0Gp3UTKlk4MLI48aJEHe0DC-x9tPKwQy9qWK0cPDhu6MtWCjtfIhE2xaG/s1600/NrColdSpringsedit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSOGohbZLP-y_Tj5tdU__FMb9NUrAejmYRREGcTrX9C76LiNlulKMph09lqJPYqJwrWIryZQeNIJJLZ-leip0Gp3UTKlk4MLI48aJEHe0DC-x9tPKwQy9qWK0cPDhu6MtWCjtfIhE2xaG/s320/NrColdSpringsedit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Only about a mile and a half further on, we came not only to the ruins of the former Cold Springs telegraph station...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQir34tWSb8eDn0q5o2hb7fmcC32STgk5AARRLPFwXZVSfH1AGs_PGJ4upowzc_d-kZfIYlO3eyI5Z0qWwsjOfGkV-8zq4qbe39mmFKAzLWAQPtptQmfHS7IYRwFcLYcMktaVz7E-3tl9/s1600/TelegraphStationcrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQir34tWSb8eDn0q5o2hb7fmcC32STgk5AARRLPFwXZVSfH1AGs_PGJ4upowzc_d-kZfIYlO3eyI5Z0qWwsjOfGkV-8zq4qbe39mmFKAzLWAQPtptQmfHS7IYRwFcLYcMktaVz7E-3tl9/s320/TelegraphStationcrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...but of the Overland Stage station, and an interpretative site for the elusive Cold Springs Pony Express station. But it appeared that the station ruins were a mile and a half walk along a track to the east, and we regretfully decided we could not leave the horses to spare an hour walking into the sage brush. <br />
<br />
Watering Mo in Rock Creek - we had to sneak onto private land through a nearby Montana gate.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiHHqkaowIPkLkDCGftHPKjRpvOiRiuNnfYYCLxMMDPzp2zKeS0N_rmI_BzZVCsRu1Q6-QS1dRoj6fINHWQfwqlhSg3dNu9lANek9rMumQA6Uk3zD8GZn2KqMe6rTaz2BpNF3ALjA1xCV/s1600/MoDrink1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiHHqkaowIPkLkDCGftHPKjRpvOiRiuNnfYYCLxMMDPzp2zKeS0N_rmI_BzZVCsRu1Q6-QS1dRoj6fINHWQfwqlhSg3dNu9lANek9rMumQA6Uk3zD8GZn2KqMe6rTaz2BpNF3ALjA1xCV/s320/MoDrink1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This was the last accessible clean natural water supply we were to encounter for over eighty miles, although we were able to top up the water tank at Middlegate station five miles further along the road.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Another example of the quaint American hobby of displaying old shoes on fence posts and trees, this time a shoe tree just before Middlegate.... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5Kd0Blipp4iylrPnjs9i54Jf5jZQ5wDonYdC3Dr_GAT2aY8cim9bhr6OFHUhsdQS0Bo6FM9LU1Li2UcgGcCJIVe2z9blq2eTNrGZh74ZSBL0cVsPyw6PhKbGxEobpvSLCTYnkAaYH7K1/s1600/ShoeTreeCrop1000crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5Kd0Blipp4iylrPnjs9i54Jf5jZQ5wDonYdC3Dr_GAT2aY8cim9bhr6OFHUhsdQS0Bo6FM9LU1Li2UcgGcCJIVe2z9blq2eTNrGZh74ZSBL0cVsPyw6PhKbGxEobpvSLCTYnkAaYH7K1/s320/ShoeTreeCrop1000crop.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
The story goes that it was the result of a lovers' tiff after a newly married couple camped beneath the tree and got into an argument. When the wife threatened to walk off the husband retorted by telling her she could walk barefoot and threw her shoes up into the tree, He then drove off to drown his sorrows at the nearby bar at Middlegate. However the story had a romantic ending when the bartender persuaded him to return. The couple reconciled and lived happily ever after! Unfortunately this is not the original tree, which was <a href="http://www.roadsideamerica.com/blog/memorial-shoe-tree/" target="_blank">cut down by vandals in 2010</a>, but shoes seem to have quickly sprouted on this nearby tree.<br />
There is a Trails West marker for Middlegate station here, but in fact the exact location is not known.<br />
<br />
Middlegate (which I visited with Mike and Bonnie in September) became a two horse town when we rode in to camp behind the motel/restaurant/bar, which seems to be the place to be in this neck of the woods or should it be sage brush.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBlpHSe6ZB_SHyeKbenj-Jkc7gE6p6pxJWELXLmPt402Qpor1lcof-jtR1oDB_iXnXeOU5iznUIz-MZ3tFCCktUKoHPSk_ZQ9envRa_6cW2PBJ3lrjKtDM9LgT3rbykM2AcsjtfqMlJW8/s1600/RoMoMiddlegate3p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBlpHSe6ZB_SHyeKbenj-Jkc7gE6p6pxJWELXLmPt402Qpor1lcof-jtR1oDB_iXnXeOU5iznUIz-MZ3tFCCktUKoHPSk_ZQ9envRa_6cW2PBJ3lrjKtDM9LgT3rbykM2AcsjtfqMlJW8/s320/RoMoMiddlegate3p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It may be the only establishment in this isolated location, but it serves good food and drink, and that evening the place was jam-packed with a variety of individuals including thirty geology students who were camping in tents at the side, and Brett Bramble, a young man <a href="http://brettbramblewalks.com/" target="_blank">walking across America</a> in aid of drug awareness. Tragically his young sister died of an overdose. Just discovered that he finished successfully and here is a link to his <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BrettBrambleWalksUSA/" target="_blank">facebook page</a> and <a href="http://app.shorthand.com/export/7ed5cbca22f64aa6a087ba7652ef8381/index.html" target="_blank">article</a><br />
<strong>Wednesday October 13th</strong> At Drumm Summit on the loneliest road looking back across the Stingaree valley towards Middlegate.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2VYtUZ6BMRvrAKlRykHkrwp7oPlxtNJxrGzrgp33JcojDVfEu54UosELrYD_WYACDAboV4n2wMDP4r9HVofdFHSNrQwSjvqcGEyikGD24nRqgfBngmGieRyU4qJvUIlu5UqtJz2QpOgb-/s1600/LoneliestRdCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2VYtUZ6BMRvrAKlRykHkrwp7oPlxtNJxrGzrgp33JcojDVfEu54UosELrYD_WYACDAboV4n2wMDP4r9HVofdFHSNrQwSjvqcGEyikGD24nRqgfBngmGieRyU4qJvUIlu5UqtJz2QpOgb-/s320/LoneliestRdCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Shortly after this the horses were given the shock of their lives when two low-flying fighter jets came screaming through the pass and over our heads. Luckily they were tied up but the Topgun fighters certainly took my breath away. It was a sobering warning that we were just about to enter the restricted training grounds of the Fallon Naval Air Station in Dixie Valley, the Topgun School having been moved here from San Diego in 1996. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We tramped rapidly for ten miles across the Dixie Valley towards the Sand Springs Range, nervously scanning the skies for Tom Cruise and friends....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uQv8HO_M0BfSpkoC20OEDmm4ZQZYpMgQvPznheCMTuDws1FYlUIbJpwMcLRPJa74ll1prBSMU9GilqlTuZLdckN5b8j6eokRQ89fErKfFc8x_Xrg-tctTvqOGxHj5AFeYk0OK1EJsuI1/s1600/RoMotoSandSprings1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uQv8HO_M0BfSpkoC20OEDmm4ZQZYpMgQvPznheCMTuDws1FYlUIbJpwMcLRPJa74ll1prBSMU9GilqlTuZLdckN5b8j6eokRQ89fErKfFc8x_Xrg-tctTvqOGxHj5AFeYk0OK1EJsuI1/s320/RoMotoSandSprings1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
...I was glad to have my eagle-eyed cousin with me, but happily the only military aircraft that came anywhere near us were helicopters....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHwLGVtQMAmgiw1PjJ7QZwM1QEfVdVZD9jFo_LvAfUv-nWNc83LvIFsfLTAcoGEtlmwU3zUxPAUKDZWZv_lDj-7tTfPaB4lCI4SPcDIFate0ZEFYuj1o6tf-Z29PEWBhHN9EXK3ADqTCH/s1600/ThreeHelicopters2Crop868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHwLGVtQMAmgiw1PjJ7QZwM1QEfVdVZD9jFo_LvAfUv-nWNc83LvIFsfLTAcoGEtlmwU3zUxPAUKDZWZv_lDj-7tTfPaB4lCI4SPcDIFate0ZEFYuj1o6tf-Z29PEWBhHN9EXK3ADqTCH/s320/ThreeHelicopters2Crop868.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
There had been warnings of bad weather preceded by high winds coming in, so we found a sheltered spot behind a bank on the other side of the Sand Springs Range rather than descend to the more open Salt Wells Basin..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinurK5HKRxcRDG8At-wLY6ldWpY30Ej96CVzGZn4hZZCT9PcHSBgcNeLhp-X7rLXj1eo5xsu-Ma714z9wA2XV0ehH9mHUO_Xm0WMMeto9DKU9dP5fTh7l5g1uQ3qYRivXmGuQM9buN79F8/s1600/SandSpringsCampCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinurK5HKRxcRDG8At-wLY6ldWpY30Ej96CVzGZn4hZZCT9PcHSBgcNeLhp-X7rLXj1eo5xsu-Ma714z9wA2XV0ehH9mHUO_Xm0WMMeto9DKU9dP5fTh7l5g1uQ3qYRivXmGuQM9buN79F8/s320/SandSpringsCampCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-21741519633931684742017-02-24T13:21:00.000+00:002017-03-02T11:41:36.690+00:00Cold Springs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong>Sunday October 10th </strong>The morning sun catches the tops of the Desatoya mountains as Petra and a more subdued Red lead the way along the Pony Express trail up the Smith Creek valley .....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIlEoZdyo9SVmIOlj23TAv4NTs_NJSRBCOsPObILjo-oMfICPNSjYl4z-TJ2okQ6kyJErCk04LwVEEpvUdtWhmkp-NNkqsU4uwRUiYhOCxUjUMkqRWhqv1GnBkSM-oh1FI0nWHrxv6esD/s1600/PetraRedSmithCreekValley1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIlEoZdyo9SVmIOlj23TAv4NTs_NJSRBCOsPObILjo-oMfICPNSjYl4z-TJ2okQ6kyJErCk04LwVEEpvUdtWhmkp-NNkqsU4uwRUiYhOCxUjUMkqRWhqv1GnBkSM-oh1FI0nWHrxv6esD/s320/PetraRedSmithCreekValley1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Unfortunately our progress was stopped abruptly a little further on by a locked gate. We had been given permission to ride through this private land by the Smith Creek Ranch, but a ranch employee had forgotten to leave the gate unlocked for us. Petra and Red's chance to put on their Pony Express hats and gallop back to fetch the key! So it was not too long before we were on our way again...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/I-eH53yEy4s/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/I-eH53yEy4s?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Negotiating the Montana gate at Basque summit before we descend into the Edwards Creek Valley....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAA8aCvb02hEqbdfMpYEQh46UzSbOqBWaJ7h55sfAuao2OMWbXHeoYLJzZnxSoRAYIqO9dPj9mUCJrzwgUU1UtT3_rwbucYm-doNVOzvVR6SBWc6hdMFgYjU1E_IqNEC1f7Nrgb6XvoBM/s1600/MontanaGateLeverSmithCreekCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAA8aCvb02hEqbdfMpYEQh46UzSbOqBWaJ7h55sfAuao2OMWbXHeoYLJzZnxSoRAYIqO9dPj9mUCJrzwgUU1UtT3_rwbucYm-doNVOzvVR6SBWc6hdMFgYjU1E_IqNEC1f7Nrgb6XvoBM/s320/MontanaGateLeverSmithCreekCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ranchers please note the simple lever contraption made out of a stick and a bit of wire to pull the posts together!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Stopping for a rest in a pretty glade...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjospa6edeK-TWpdQnyh7zcK_95ai_kkrPg4CPGPj51R4O6wEn4jCpD9sf5NnIxkCkaxWMfNUx7zyQGCGg7w2fWr5XQgnUQUEZW17uQuy4zLOsMdjG8Ah8vd-MQyPNjpi7HCgs2HN1el4GZ/s1600/RoMoRestStopCrop1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjospa6edeK-TWpdQnyh7zcK_95ai_kkrPg4CPGPj51R4O6wEn4jCpD9sf5NnIxkCkaxWMfNUx7zyQGCGg7w2fWr5XQgnUQUEZW17uQuy4zLOsMdjG8Ah8vd-MQyPNjpi7HCgs2HN1el4GZ/s320/RoMoRestStopCrop1.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
...not sure what the squirrel paws are for, unless she is looking for nuts, or apples....<br />
<br />
She has scrumped in Asia, she has scrumped in Europe, all by horse. The international equine apple scrumper is at it again.....<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1hfncHOAXdlX59rquK0jCPtzOqmmAwblLe2-fNPG2vB3gScsDmDCQWxi4TUQYgIAcnP1x0bHBRQaH-L6y-iXtMozrbMneh7At7BM__kUAglaUu4U91R0kH3Q71ibfiXU96V_KrSkSwVq/s1600/RoScrumpingApplesCrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1hfncHOAXdlX59rquK0jCPtzOqmmAwblLe2-fNPG2vB3gScsDmDCQWxi4TUQYgIAcnP1x0bHBRQaH-L6y-iXtMozrbMneh7At7BM__kUAglaUu4U91R0kH3Q71ibfiXU96V_KrSkSwVq/s320/RoScrumpingApplesCrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Not many continents to go. And for the uneducated who do not know what <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/#q=Scrumping" target="_blank">scrumping</a> is, follow the link.<br />
<br />
How convenient...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_K9T7w3uI5F-YHvzQfEFI8qYGu05dFNlnrSxD1sv61N9tQxwaZtOjRVBLsraS6HC5he9jiYMLHUvRXbvBKdDleMMrBx05hKK9KbKqs0G9PYfF6B8Vtsqd91quHlTnUvCf4qJIyyEmpgqA/s1600/EdwardsCreekLoo1crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_K9T7w3uI5F-YHvzQfEFI8qYGu05dFNlnrSxD1sv61N9tQxwaZtOjRVBLsraS6HC5he9jiYMLHUvRXbvBKdDleMMrBx05hKK9KbKqs0G9PYfF6B8Vtsqd91quHlTnUvCf4qJIyyEmpgqA/s320/EdwardsCreekLoo1crop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
..and a sign that we are nearing civilisation, or in this case the ruins of Edwards Creek Pony Express station....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_P_Ut5FEvUDFLR5ofRzw8bXNaS6GB0hCU9WY4EjdtYBTNN3qRbZlfnEL1TDITCifoaV3k2VBJY-__citlY3ZnrIGuxUnHGb6RGHaunv_R3_NYtcHqgAy1r-BH85wJanQU2PexBMUkW3S/s1600/MeRoEdwardsCreekPXstationcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_P_Ut5FEvUDFLR5ofRzw8bXNaS6GB0hCU9WY4EjdtYBTNN3qRbZlfnEL1TDITCifoaV3k2VBJY-__citlY3ZnrIGuxUnHGb6RGHaunv_R3_NYtcHqgAy1r-BH85wJanQU2PexBMUkW3S/s400/MeRoEdwardsCreekPXstationcrop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
A view looking past the ruins back up Edwards Creek Canyon to the rig and corrals. The station was not here when Burton passed through, but in July 1861 traveller Israel Benjamin commented "Here there was fresh bread, Zwieback, and brandy, but so dear that a bottle of brandy cost three to four dollars". Sounds pretty reasonable to me.<br />
Sadly Petra had to leave us here but on <strong>Monday October 11th</strong> Rowena and I rode down to Highway 50 and followed alongside it for a few miles to Cold Springs, where there was a camp ground and bar/restaurant.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ag8N1XXh_fu26wsN7Q8WH_zV0GkS5DX1BbsWmmi2xKzkVIc_ciPoZiPA72xA1LCil6c1lCLytV4GwdvIIaeD4XNx6ylM_xfWFM9wZrmKwxLAfG50_BWtOBnbV3TkKCE0sh7KGp3yAnw6/s1600/RowMoColdSpringsEdit1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ag8N1XXh_fu26wsN7Q8WH_zV0GkS5DX1BbsWmmi2xKzkVIc_ciPoZiPA72xA1LCil6c1lCLytV4GwdvIIaeD4XNx6ylM_xfWFM9wZrmKwxLAfG50_BWtOBnbV3TkKCE0sh7KGp3yAnw6/s320/RowMoColdSpringsEdit1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We had the whole afternoon to relax and take advantage of all the facilities. The somewhat ditsy waitress informed us that the ruins of the old Pony Express Station were only about half a mile up the track behind the restaurant, so in the evening Rowena and I walked a mile and a half up the hill behind in a fruitless attempt to find them. As it was fairly sizeable home station at 120ft by 53ft and has been the object of considerable archaeological excavation, it was rather disappointing to be thwarted in our historical outing, but the evening view was beautiful!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOXeGuAJ2cyMG0RcmOsPaw4RG4c_Fjcavo4IIWSrjRUJ0oT55qT9OATS0cSTrU9_BHGqgCxLDJVrkZ3A6RpI_vu7VdjP41wjKyFZdRXwAKR4qM65GN1ZUt-4ApUkU5G224xhH6iDPWdkc/s1600/RoColdSprView1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOXeGuAJ2cyMG0RcmOsPaw4RG4c_Fjcavo4IIWSrjRUJ0oT55qT9OATS0cSTrU9_BHGqgCxLDJVrkZ3A6RpI_vu7VdjP41wjKyFZdRXwAKR4qM65GN1ZUt-4ApUkU5G224xhH6iDPWdkc/s320/RoColdSprView1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It later transpired that the station site was actually about two miles further south and to the left in the photo. <br />
Cold Springs was where 'Pony Bob' Haslam found the original building burnt, the station keeper dead and the horses gone on his return ride from Smith Creek. This was not the only attack it suffered during the Indian troubles, and the station was later enlarged and provided with gun ports in thick stone walls.<br />
A tragic incident occurred here during the same period when relief Pony Express rider Barthomolew was shot accidentally. A former soldier, he had just survived Major Ormsby's catastrophic foray to Pyramid Lake. He then found himself at Buckland's and volunteered to carry the eastward bound mail on the perilous 85 miles to Cold Springs after the regular rider refused due to the troubles. So it was ironic that after all this he died at the hand of a friend. <br />
<br />
Burton reported that it was a "wretched place half built and wholly unroofed" and he slept once again in the haystack, this time serenaded by "the loud howling of the wolves, which are said to be larger on these hills than elsewhere". Wretched it may have been, but his party "supped upon an excellent steak" from a freshly killed "beef". We supped upon macaroni cheese unaccompanied by lupine howls.Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210848489489323270.post-46870033873817065002017-02-23T19:01:00.000+00:002017-03-02T11:41:18.135+00:00Rowena Joins Us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The troops rendezvoused in Austen for breakfast on <strong>Friday October 8th, </strong>the assembled company comprising<strong> </strong>Mike and Bonnie, Petra, and also local ranch managers Wade Rusler and Becky Bible, shown here at the fairground with a resigned Mo, Wade and Becky's lovely mule and a young quarter horse being taken on a walk to see the world. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PZ_Q2IVYTzn2kHe-Y0izuJQJJsETJOxdLJfeEw1OzBJ-_WPMovCKF2q4nOENvHK2TbJAOWZpnviMYAudR6dnrH5XCPfdkGsjCbvbZLPsqjMi1lw8mrgvp3hGwiegcNb6FbuiQSra6puE/s1600/AustinFairgroundCrop1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PZ_Q2IVYTzn2kHe-Y0izuJQJJsETJOxdLJfeEw1OzBJ-_WPMovCKF2q4nOENvHK2TbJAOWZpnviMYAudR6dnrH5XCPfdkGsjCbvbZLPsqjMi1lw8mrgvp3hGwiegcNb6FbuiQSra6puE/s320/AustinFairgroundCrop1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The old fogeys breathed a sigh of relief when young wrangler Wade volunteered to wrangle with Mo first, and although he was a little 'humpy' to begin with (Mo not Wade), he soon settled down and Mike (who is the same age as me but considerably braver) got on board with no trouble.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The cavalcade sets off across the Reese River valley, which Burton commented "might have served for a sketch in the African desert". We were following to the side of the old US50/Lincoln Highway, now an almost deserted road....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/k32Xt0ysEJU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k32Xt0ysEJU?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
Left to right, Mike on Mo, Wade on his palomino quarter horse, Petra leading the way on the irrepressible prancing Red, Becky with her steady mule and youngster. The little dip in the hills straight ahead is Railroad Pass where we were headed. The line of the Pony Express trail lies through the wider pass a little off to the left, but on private land. The site of Jacobsville Pony Express station lies behind us. It was burnt down during the Indian troubles, and was in the process of being rebuilt when Burton slept in the haystack there, serenaded by "the jackal-like cry of the coyote".<br />
<br />
Return of the Dark Rider?.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEn-eLoWpd-AQce7r1nojjJ7s1o7kPFXQH6TWhqVLpcmb0nYSb2b0ZQqm1P3NjFClvo9evZZ4YQEGDjtffbZnaUQk8EzBRCuxNO18JrGf1iGH2xZCrpD1QjOKoDDDpYhcqRE8iUQdUanH/s1600/039ReeseRiverValleyedit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEn-eLoWpd-AQce7r1nojjJ7s1o7kPFXQH6TWhqVLpcmb0nYSb2b0ZQqm1P3NjFClvo9evZZ4YQEGDjtffbZnaUQk8EzBRCuxNO18JrGf1iGH2xZCrpD1QjOKoDDDpYhcqRE8iUQdUanH/s400/039ReeseRiverValleyedit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
...or a senior citizen pottering along on a pony. Unlike the little figure in the background, which was Wade on Petra's thoroughbred Red, still prancing after over fifteen miles. Wade had relieved an exhausted Petra and was trying to calm him down with indeterminate success!<br />
<br />
It was all change at Railroad Pass. Wade, Becky and four-footed friends were picked up by trailer, and Petra and Red hitched a lift with them back to the Austin fairground. Lucy arrived with the rig and I settled Lady and Mo down in the portable corrals. The ever public spirited Mike and Bonnie turned up at dusk to deliver Rowena from Reno airport, before driving back to their overnight lodgings in Austin while Lucy, Rowena and I had a late supper and crashed out. Phew!<br />
<br />
For those who are not up to speed with my whole journey, Rowena is my cousin (in fact cousin once removed!) who took part in my Beijing to London ride whenever her young family allowed. She was with me when I set off from the Chinese coast in 2008, has joined me for weeks at a time, in China, Kazakhstan and Ukraine, and rode into Greenwich with me. She was indispensable in helping with logistics in Kazakhstan, where she and husband Matt were living at the time, and provided three of the horses I used. So it was great to have her along for a small section of the North American adventure. <br />
<strong>Saturday October 9th </strong>and another early breakfast rendezvous, this time at Railroad Pass. Mike has no hesitation in digging into the very civilised breakfast spread produced by Lucy in the middle of nowhere.... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGFktWtBujUnczxLoLKjFyCx_Fq6DngVTloifowALPiLKomoSDb0n-IAw7xWYyl2AxbILWsc0fwmuiIUNDsifE-wt9gaw9q6uzi0x2OWgLYj5VqrXYGk4qjjqlNoEk8GLc5NpaD2-6Ch8/s1600/BreakfastRlwyPass1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGFktWtBujUnczxLoLKjFyCx_Fq6DngVTloifowALPiLKomoSDb0n-IAw7xWYyl2AxbILWsc0fwmuiIUNDsifE-wt9gaw9q6uzi0x2OWgLYj5VqrXYGk4qjjqlNoEk8GLc5NpaD2-6Ch8/s320/BreakfastRlwyPass1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Setting out across the Smith Creek Valley towards Smith Creek Ranch in the Desatoya Mountains straight ahead....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4cWKTGJ1WydT0wvhlw8kIJ6CKRYWpIXsealmJPBygOxyuCLV6fotqT9kxPTlzM0mx1vf1YTsl31aNCki1G46KjpakVRBNb9KXKIyHkPDPV8hT7eHBr8Wq7hoHhezw66KIVLMdJTLzDeG/s1600/MikeMeRo2crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4cWKTGJ1WydT0wvhlw8kIJ6CKRYWpIXsealmJPBygOxyuCLV6fotqT9kxPTlzM0mx1vf1YTsl31aNCki1G46KjpakVRBNb9KXKIyHkPDPV8hT7eHBr8Wq7hoHhezw66KIVLMdJTLzDeG/s320/MikeMeRo2crop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
L to R, Mike and Ahab, Me and Lady, Rowena and Mo, just beyond the point where we turned off the old US50/Lincoln Highway. Mike in fact left us here, as he had very kindly accompanied us for a little way to check Mo was behaving. <br />
<br />
After riding for about twelve miles through the sage brush across Smith Creek Valley..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGtMUjYrriNtLYkQhTADePM-G0cl2rXyel1S3ZuZoF-z0zjHtFKCm5VAgD9sqqhsS7uGL2NZ6Nkz4fxJUbOnnOuyQ8Ww071-uDejBUWWf3fJoNZiMVG257hBiVHbabGubEATaRGqeYUcD/s1600/MeRoSmithCreekValley2crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGtMUjYrriNtLYkQhTADePM-G0cl2rXyel1S3ZuZoF-z0zjHtFKCm5VAgD9sqqhsS7uGL2NZ6Nkz4fxJUbOnnOuyQ8Ww071-uDejBUWWf3fJoNZiMVG257hBiVHbabGubEATaRGqeYUcD/s400/MeRoSmithCreekValley2crop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
...we reached Smith Creek Pony Station, which has been privately preserved and renovated, but not restored to its original condition, unless glass windows were a feature of nineteenth century pioneer buildings.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQzz1xGS5RzDW8KsuWy1XEcpjk1cp_ndrWI-HXY6QYx_RE_3r1EnDqFQmkii1DdUKTRMVOllD7gYrcsXq_rE8S3GXDpDSTPtB2eQMayaFGI8-qrAPcAhdILFCrwJNCt8RJitev9LtioND/s1600/SmithCreekPXstationCowscrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQzz1xGS5RzDW8KsuWy1XEcpjk1cp_ndrWI-HXY6QYx_RE_3r1EnDqFQmkii1DdUKTRMVOllD7gYrcsXq_rE8S3GXDpDSTPtB2eQMayaFGI8-qrAPcAhdILFCrwJNCt8RJitev9LtioND/s320/SmithCreekPXstationCowscrop.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
This was a home station, and according to Burton "unusually neat, and displayed even signs of decoration in ornament of the bunk with osier work taken from the nearby creek.<br />
<br />
This station is notable as the eastward destination of "Pony Bob" Haslam's famous 380 mile ride in May 1860, the longest in Pony Express history, though broken by a nine hour lay-off here.(Jack Keetley's was the <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=210848489489323270#editor/target=post;postID=2152307995914218137;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=63;src=postname" target="_blank">longest unbroken ride</a> at 340 miles)<br />
Starting from Friday's Station by Lake Tahoe (then known as Lake Bigler), his usual run was to Buckland's station. However on reaching Buckland's he found the usual rider refusing to ride on due to the recent troubles with the Paiute, so he agreed to continue to the next home station which was Smith Creek, notching up a total of 190 miles. After a short rest at Smith Creek, the westward bound mail came in, and Pony Bob set off home to Friday's. However on reaching Cold Springs (see next post) he found it had been raided and the station keeper killed. After changing horses at Sand Springs he persuaded the lone stock tender <a href="http://www.xphomestation.com/mmaze.html" target="_blank">Montgomery Maze</a> to ride with him to comparative safety at Carson Sink (watch for these names further on), and then rode on via Buckland's to Friday's. This was an extraordinary total of 380 miles through rough and lethally dangerous territory at the height of the Paiute war. Having covered fifty miles in a day several times in endurance races, I can tell you this is going some! <br />
<br />
It was also notorious for a couple of violent incidents, no doubt the result of inevitable friction generated by the throwing together of some tough characters in isolated and perilous locations. Tempers could blow up in moments, and in August 1860. station keeper H. Trumbo and Montgomery Maze (now a pony express rider) had an argument which resulted in Trumbo 'snapping his pistol' at Maze. The following day Maze retaliated by shooting and seriously wounding Trumbo in the hip, but was not punished for his action as others present signed a certificate vouching for the fact that he was provoked. <br />
A more serious and in fact fatal incident occurred in the same year when there was a bitter altercation between two pony express riders at the station, William Carr and Bernard Chessy. Carr subsequently shot and killed Chessy, was arrested and brought to trial in Carson City, and became the first person to be legally hanged in Nevada! <br />
<br />
But all was peaceful in this small oasis when we passed through, and we found a serene camping spot at Smith Creek Ranch a little further up the valley...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8YyIx722R5tPMnSWB6KaSe8gEBAmlP9uJwZ8RLnXiTottzmSR2Bq_OY7O4hQ5yePXFucvDtiqQqY-RCrsI17ODuR3QMahq5AlrB0YXRpLyNBweCoQ3m39NNa4SMWyKL9GP4x5MI7ivXV/s1600/SmithCreekCamp2Crop2p1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8YyIx722R5tPMnSWB6KaSe8gEBAmlP9uJwZ8RLnXiTottzmSR2Bq_OY7O4hQ5yePXFucvDtiqQqY-RCrsI17ODuR3QMahq5AlrB0YXRpLyNBweCoQ3m39NNa4SMWyKL9GP4x5MI7ivXV/s320/SmithCreekCamp2Crop2p1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Life with vehicle support....</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHP0XmkWYDSzAoh43yW3PvnjgjEs_vq7mR4P4Z0QALZM49_a5yYdxWLqHlgQoCRFxBB-K38waO0KsRMl12zKpTO8j1Ujz5zg3qwMP4vBcjuActsTebW6a-jfNVhVxD83co1bC7O2oqZNst/s1600/SmithCreekSpread1Crop3-1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHP0XmkWYDSzAoh43yW3PvnjgjEs_vq7mR4P4Z0QALZM49_a5yYdxWLqHlgQoCRFxBB-K38waO0KsRMl12zKpTO8j1Ujz5zg3qwMP4vBcjuActsTebW6a-jfNVhVxD83co1bC7O2oqZNst/s320/SmithCreekSpread1Crop3-1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
..Rowena, Lucy and Petra tuck into a glamping evening buffet, so much better than packet noodles boiled up over a Pocket Rocket camping stove and eaten straight out of a cook pan. The joy of plates, cutlery and a bottle of beer as the sun goes down.Megan Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01998242135951396246noreply@blogger.com0