I started my day in Alturas...
Up earlier than expected, out looking for railroad artifacts... Then
North out of town before 8:00
My route was along Hwy 395, a road better known for its more southern portions along the east side of the Sierras... Here, beyond California, it is less known and less traveled... And why I am here...
This is ranch country... Cattle and hay... Working ranches... There still is some lumber, and the occasional tourist...
Heading north out of Alruras, I am following the railroad... Originally the N-C-O... The Nevada-Caliornia-Oregon Railway... A noticeably unsuccessful narrow gauge line... It fell into the hands of the Southern Pacific, was standard gauged, portions used for their Modoc bypass... Today this piece is a local shortline, the rest abandoned and pulled up... I am a sucker for failed railroads... Which has lead me here, to Alturas and Lakeview...
It is haying season... ranchers are out cutting hay, raking hay, and baling hay...
My route was along Hwy 395, a road better known for its more southern portions along the east side of the Sierras... Here, beyond California, it is less known and less traveled... And why I am here...
This is ranch country... Cattle and hay... Working ranches... There still is some lumber, and the occasional tourist...
Heading north out of Alruras, I am following the railroad... Originally the N-C-O... The Nevada-Caliornia-Oregon Railway... A noticeably unsuccessful narrow gauge line... It fell into the hands of the Southern Pacific, was standard gauged, portions used for their Modoc bypass... Today this piece is a local shortline, the rest abandoned and pulled up... I am a sucker for failed railroads... Which has lead me here, to Alturas and Lakeview...
It is haying season... ranchers are out cutting hay, raking hay, and baling hay...
The weather has been weird... mostly
blue skies, with high thin clouds mixed with yellow smoke from fires, most to
the west… they are in part caused by the clouds which occasionally have
produced lighting… Now headed north on 395, blue skies ahead, it is raining…
and continues to rain for 10 miles…
In Lakeview I go in search of the Victorian railroad depot, now a private home... it is not hard to find if you follow the railroad tracks... A train came by… Creating what might be called a photo opportunity... I may have taken pictures...
Having found the depot I stopped for gas and ice... the two commodities of necessity on the road. In Oregon Gas must be pumped by station staff... I am old enough to remember "full service" gas stations... I may have worked in one while in college (18 pumps) but that was then, and it is hard to let someone else pump gas... I needed ice for the cooler too... It was $1.99... Pick up you bag from the cooler in the shed... then back, headed north on 395.
In Lakeview I go in search of the Victorian railroad depot, now a private home... it is not hard to find if you follow the railroad tracks... A train came by… Creating what might be called a photo opportunity... I may have taken pictures...
Having found the depot I stopped for gas and ice... the two commodities of necessity on the road. In Oregon Gas must be pumped by station staff... I am old enough to remember "full service" gas stations... I may have worked in one while in college (18 pumps) but that was then, and it is hard to let someone else pump gas... I needed ice for the cooler too... It was $1.99... Pick up you bag from the cooler in the shed... then back, headed north on 395.
The county is empty… for some miles
I drive along the bank of an alkali lake… Later I drive through a huge ranch…
all buildings tan with green roofs… for miles and miles. Smoke was particularly bad in Burns. I turned left on to Hwy 26 at John Day, leaving
395 for a while.
In Prairie City I stopped at the local railroad depot museum. It was a very nice, classic small city museum… The depot was the south end of the Sumpter Valley railroad, a narrow gauge line abandoned just after WWII. I was chasing its ghost. From Prairie City I entered the mountains… occasionally I saw traces of the railroad, but only rarely… This is rough heavily forested country. At Austin I left Hwy 26 for the smaller Hwy 7… that took me to the Sumpter Valley, for which the railroad was named, and the site of a railroad museum/tourist railroad
Sumpter was a gold mining town… there is a dredge on display, open for tours… Dredging churned the valley floor, leaving a wide bed of gravel and rocks… The tourist railroad runs down the valley from Sumpter… I looked around town, which was cute, but kind of dead… the highlight being a deer, a buck, 3 or 4 points, walking thought a small junk yard… so much for the nobility of nature.
The railroad wasn’t running, but I spent time looking at their equipment and nosing through their junk piles (they had lots… and there was some interesting stuff found) visited the engine house took a few pictures, then returned to the road.
In Prairie City I stopped at the local railroad depot museum. It was a very nice, classic small city museum… The depot was the south end of the Sumpter Valley railroad, a narrow gauge line abandoned just after WWII. I was chasing its ghost. From Prairie City I entered the mountains… occasionally I saw traces of the railroad, but only rarely… This is rough heavily forested country. At Austin I left Hwy 26 for the smaller Hwy 7… that took me to the Sumpter Valley, for which the railroad was named, and the site of a railroad museum/tourist railroad
Sumpter was a gold mining town… there is a dredge on display, open for tours… Dredging churned the valley floor, leaving a wide bed of gravel and rocks… The tourist railroad runs down the valley from Sumpter… I looked around town, which was cute, but kind of dead… the highlight being a deer, a buck, 3 or 4 points, walking thought a small junk yard… so much for the nobility of nature.
The railroad wasn’t running, but I spent time looking at their equipment and nosing through their junk piles (they had lots… and there was some interesting stuff found) visited the engine house took a few pictures, then returned to the road.
Heading east, it was obvious that
there was a much closer fire… I couldn’t
find any local information on the radio…
Local radio has become a series of rebroadcasts of clips about video
games, political talk shows and here, PBS… the only local thing is the
commercials.
Hwy 7 met Hwy 83, a freeway at Baker… I stopped
for gas at the truck stop near the highway… it was chaotic… Hwy 83 to the South
was closed, there was a fire, maybe an accident too… no one was sure… there is
not local news source to look to… I got gas, and headed north on Hwy 83… rumor
at the gas station suggested there was a wheat field on fire along the way but
I didn’t see it…I am spending the night in Pendleton Oregon... about 2 hours up the road, in the next Best Western... (there is a song by David Swindel, called the “Next Best Western”… Lucy Roche sings it… ) It is a good place to pause on my journey.
I am writing this in the local brewpub, the Prodigal Son... I am drinking their Ella, an IPA... In part based on Cascade hops... I am a sucker for Cascade hops... I am happy... I have ordered a Ruben... They make their own sauerkraut... All is good.
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