Notes From Abroad

Howdy.

Last weekend I decided to branch out and experience some of the local scene. It was the weekend, which meant that I would likely be riding, but I was also thinking about checking out what was happening in the gold country.

El Dorado county is in the heart of the mother lode. This is where thousands of pioneers settled in hopes to "strike it rich." They came to Hangtown, to Plymouth, to Coloma and the surrounding foothills. The history of the area reminds me of Montana, with it's "throw caution to the wind" attitude and self-reliant spirit. This is a region that was ruled under marshall law and I could feel some of that personality in its people.

Saturday morning began with a light breakfast and a beautiful drive south on Hwy 49 to Plymouth. I rode the old Sierra Century route with a great group of Bay area cyclists called Diablo. We rode a 65 mile course up into the Sierra's, past vineyards and the mining town of Fiddletown, and up to 5000 feet above the valley floor. It was an epic ride with some great company, that I will remember for a long while. I felt light on my feet and I fantasized that I was Alejandro Valverde climbing in the Pyrenees. At Cook's station we had lunch. I opted for the tuna melt on white with American cheese. Yum. "I'm in the country now," I thought. We hammered on home, down through steep, winding canyons and up over some rolling hills back to Plymouth.

Then for a good contrast, I headed over to Jay and Maria's home for a BBQ, and later, Sprint Car Races! Talk about good ole' fashioned fun. I felt a little out of place 'cause I didn't have my trucker's baseball cap on, but we all immersed ourselves in with the crowd, up in the stands of the county fairgrounds and hooped and hollered with the best of them. We were sprayed by mud and beer and almost got mixed up in a brawl over who's seat was who's. It was great. I heard "Cotton Eyed Joe," " Eye of the Tiger," and "The Final Countdown." Needless to say, the stands were a little RED and it brought a tear to my eye as it reminded me so much of home. I told Jay afterwards that I used to love doing things like this when I was younger, but my wife had been pretty successful in reconditioning me...ha, ha, ha.

Sunday took me through more incredible countryside...on my bike, of course. This area is so geographically and biologically diverse. It's so wonderful and invigorating to ride up and down these remote canyons to destinations such as Georgetown. Georgetown is a mining town out in the "boon docks" as my father would have said. There's only one main road to it and you've got to be going there to get there. I've heard from more than a few people that folks go there to disappear. Can you say Lincoln, MT?

We took the long route from Placerville. We headed up and over Mosquito Rd. down to the the South Fork of the American River, up and down too many times to count and finally arrived in town. My pictures above don't even begin to show how rugged the country is. We climbed and descended 15+ percent grades on a regular basis and our total gain/loss for the day was above 6000 vertical feet. There were only two of us in regular gearing...the rest had either a compact crankset or triple front chainring. Yikes!

Georgetown was bustling with tourists and locals both. The center of the street was lined with Harleys and the whole place had this biker vibe. We stopped for lunch and headed on back home. It was another great day of riding.

By Sunday night I was ready to take it easy, so I grilled and stayed in to watch an old favorite on the TV...The Amazing Race, of course. Nothing like a reality show about traveling around the world to make me feel good. Susan and I have watched this show since its beginnings and I've always fantasized about being one of the teams on the show. Hmmm, maybe someday.

Well I hope my weekend adventures gave you a little taste of the region and it's people. There is so much more I could say about this place, but my post is getting a bit long so I'll sign off for now.

Take care and talk to you next time.