Oh my God, I'm so in love you guys. Bury my heart in Plumas County. Just drive up highway 70 east and toss it in the
Highway 70 East is the Feather River Scenic Byway. It runs along the north fork of the Feather river into the Sierra Nevada mountains. It cuts through deeply carved canyons and tunnels through giant layers of exfoliating granite. I've driven this road three times in the last four weeks and I can't get enough. I fantasize that all people disappear from the earth so I can explore this highway without you ridin' up on my tail because I'm soakin' it all in and you just want to hurry up and get to where you're going. Well, in my dreams, you're dead, okay? You're gone. Buh-bye. Well, okay, maybe not dead, just off for while, so I can suck the teat of this landscape up into my soul and LIVE, damn it, LIVE for a thousand years, relishing it's beauty!
I want to lick these rocks. Yes, I will marry them and hump them and have their little schisty, batholithic babies.
God is my favorite artist. You can't beat this with a stick.
Closer....oh, God, look at that...yeah.
A few years ago I rode Amtrak's California Zephyr from Sacramento to Omaha, along these very rails. It's scenic as all get out, but I went a little stir crazy. I think I was on that train for almost 48 hours.
Yeah, baby!
The Bird Man and I taking a dip in Feather River. The current was strong and the cold water felt divine.
Highway 70 East is the Feather River Scenic Byway. It runs along the north fork of the Feather river into the Sierra Nevada mountains. It cuts through deeply carved canyons and tunnels through giant layers of exfoliating granite. I've driven this road three times in the last four weeks and I can't get enough. I fantasize that all people disappear from the earth so I can explore this highway without you ridin' up on my tail because I'm soakin' it all in and you just want to hurry up and get to where you're going. Well, in my dreams, you're dead, okay? You're gone. Buh-bye. Well, okay, maybe not dead, just off for while, so I can suck the teat of this landscape up into my soul and LIVE, damn it, LIVE for a thousand years, relishing it's beauty!
I want to lick these rocks. Yes, I will marry them and hump them and have their little schisty, batholithic babies.
God is my favorite artist. You can't beat this with a stick.
Closer....oh, God, look at that...yeah.
A few years ago I rode Amtrak's California Zephyr from Sacramento to Omaha, along these very rails. It's scenic as all get out, but I went a little stir crazy. I think I was on that train for almost 48 hours.
Yeah, baby!
The Bird Man and I taking a dip in Feather River. The current was strong and the cold water felt divine.
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My default mind moves to images of waves and water and beach; my boy's brain seems to say, "Oooooh, MOUNTAINS!" with every other in- or outtake of air.
I can now (better) breathe in a sympathetic way.
The thing about Wisconsin, even though I've grown up here, is that there's nothing too fantastic about the land - it's pretty flat, some parts with a few hills. If you came from Plumas National Forest and then immediately went to say, Nicolet National Forest in northern Wisconsin, it's be pretty, but you'd definitely lack the dramatics in the scenery.