Up and out early to the Sierra foothills east of Auburn, down Driver's Flat Road to
Oregon Bar for a 14+walk to
Peachstone Junction (California 2), thereby filling in about half the gap to Foresthill (once done, will have walked contiguously from Santa Rosa Plain, across the Central Valley, and up into the Mountains to Talbot Campground beyond Mosquito Ridge -- with two other gaps left to fill to finish a stroll across California from the Pacific Ocean to the Nevada border).
The journey starts accompanied by a forelorn dog, who gives up the companionship at the
Ruck-a-Chucky Road ascent, where the
rapids
come soon into view (the name evidently from the "rotten chuck" -- poor edibles in Gold Rush parlance -- or perhaps what would come of it over the watery turbulence).
Beyond, the Middle Fork of the American River turns placid, turning the bend near
Ford's Bar, then up to views of
Cock Robin,
Otter Creek Canyon, and the
Hornblende Mountains.
A punishing down and up, beyond Peachstone Canyon to the Junction, then
back via the cool waters, as the sun descends providing some relief against the 90+ sun,
down (mostly), returning to the
Ford's Bar area,
re-encountering
Ruck-a-
Chucky,
the relentless sun returns by a
Digger Pine rest stop, and
leads all the way
back to
point of origin.
Pretty wiped out, seemingly at the level of endurance, just enough water to make the circuit, heading back up Drivers Flat (Tire?) Road, a light flashes several times on the dashboard. Make a dash to the promentory plateau midway, check for overheating (seems maybe, kinda OK), charge up the rest of the road, which is not as steep, windy, and rutted (still gravel, though), then down Foresthill Road to Auburn Ravine Bridge, and back up to civilization, such as it welcomingly is, stock up on water, soda, and oil (by now am down to a mini-Coke left in the car that has the approximate temperature of hot coffee). Difficult to determine whether the oil is down or not, so put more in, turn over the ignition, which fires up right away chipperly, and the light on the dash (which cannot be read when unlit) proves to be the computerized "swerve control" functioning -- so perhaps there was really no issue at all.
Feeling definitely like an individual of a certain age -- a muscular twitch in right leg (Google reveals can be brought on by muscular stress... well, yeah...) and a growing tinnitus (nostalgia for gentle August cicadias of the east) do not make sleep come gently, so do two more pages of publication-preparation for the Symphony No. 2: I, begin video edits for Diocletian, and at last drop off.
