Down the Feather River Canyon

Like a couple of typical city-slickers, Gi and I didn't get up and start moving around this morning until after Bob and Dorothy had completed most of the morning chores. But we still got treated to a huge breakfast complete with flapjacks as big as your head and thick strips of bacon cooked outside on the gas grill. It was a treat to enjoy our meal in the crisp air out on the deck (the temp last night dipped to 38 degrees), but as usual around the ranch, there was a mini-drama to contend with. Seems a raccoon (or some other varmint) had gotten into the barn overnight and had wreaked havoc on the latest additions to the goose flock. Just another lesson about life and the real world to start the day.

Today's trip was a short 3.5 hour drive from Quincy to Davis, CA, and anyone can tell you that a big breakfast is not necessarily the best thinking to eat before taking aride in the Feather River canyon. Many a good meal has been left along THAT roadside through the years. The scenery in the canyon is still spectacular, and just as I thought it would be, the road is a doozy on a motorcycle. I was surprised to see the scars of multiple forest fires down the ridges, and I couldn't help but think what an inferno it must be down in canyon when the flames are racing up those walls. (Of course, it made me think of Mom's infamous story about driving into the middle of a King's Canyon blaze with Dennis in the car many years ago.)

But even with the lack of greenery in so many places, the water was still running clear and cold. I will admit to a much more jaded eye as I looked at the multiple powerhouses and dams along the various river reaches and thought about their contributions to the long-term demise (and recent plunge) in native salmon stocks in the river. And, of course, it was very strange to see the low water level in Oroville Reservoir. I didn't look up the figures, but by eye I'd say the current water line must be about 80-90 feet below full pool -- a very obvious sign of the long-term drought conditions they've experienced in the area.

We rolled out of the canyon and onto the foothills, where the wild oats had long since turned dry and golden. The air quality was quite good good -- I could just make out the the coast range in the distance across the valley and the Buttes were in sharp relief. That was much better than was typical most days when i was a child growing up in Oroville. Back then, between agricultural burning and smog, a clear view of the Buttes was fairly rare, and I'm not at all sure if I EVER saw the Coast Range from the east side of the valley.

Anyway, we zipped along the foothills and got into Davis in the early afternoon. We had made arrangements to meet my nephew, Chris, for lunch, but a bad accident on I-80 had eastbound traffic out of the Bay Area so snarled that he had to turn around and call off our plans. I'm not sure whether we'll get a second chance as I'm tied up for a couple of days now with business. We'll probably head out Tuesday afternoon and make our way toward the coast and Norht.