A Long Way From Unlucky

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November 13, 2020, Cottonwood-

Friday the Thirteenth has always had a bad rap, in my book. I can count on one hand the number of even slight misfortunes that have struck on this particular day-regardless of what month it happens.

Today was no exception-and I hope this was true for most everyone else. First thing this morning, I received notice of a generous gift from a loved one. At work, I arrived early, got plenty of help in preparing for the day and was able to accomplish all that was listed on the Substitute Plan. The children worked hard, and though they started to flake out, towards day’s end, I was pleased with the overall work day.

I came here, to the commercial hub of eastern Yavapai County, as part of a planned late evening at Synergy Cafe and a quick start to tomorrow’s jaunt to Homolovi Ruins State Park, north of Winslow. After two Zoom calls put me on the dinner hunt a bit late, I set off for Black Bear Diner, five minutes from the motel. Alas, there was no one at the host station-and not only was I being ignored by the staff, but two parties waiting to pay for their meals were also being treated as invisible. I left them with a “Good luck” vibe, and chalked it up to ONE minor irritation. Dinner came a bit late, but Cowboy Club, in Sedona, is fabulous.

Synergy was even more crowded than usual, so the late night did not transpire. I will go back there again, when I have a drum-and thus, something to offer the group. So, I am back at Verde Valley Inn and am quite comfortable for the rest of the night.

Friday the Thirteenth is also said to have feminine energy about it, which is just fine by me!

The Road to 65, Mile 183: Northwestward, Resumed, Day 4- Reno to Mount Shasta

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May 30, 2015, Mount Shasta- I am at the base of northern California’s most sacred peak,

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in a town where Black Bear Diner came into existence, some twenty years ago.  The little eatery is still here, and in several other locations, across eight states.  So, I had dinner there this evening.

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More about that, in a bit.  The day started with my little “grand-niece’s” blanket tent being carefully honoured by everyone, including she.  After my usual breakfast of cereal and coffee, I bid my Reno family farewell and headed west.  The first stop was the Sierra Nevada town of Truckee, both for a bite of lunch, (leftover from last night’s dinner at Pho, in south Reno). and to check out the neat little spot.

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Sierra Inn is one of Truckee’s signature hotels.

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Truckee Hotel is the other.

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The main street was just starting to stir, on this bright Saturday morning.

On the north back street, there is a cute Arts Center:  Kindred Art and Folk Institute

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Having been to the performing arts center in Carson City, a few days ago, I am more inclined to notice these places, further along the road.

On the south side of town, across the tracks, runs the Truckee River.

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It is about as low here, as it was in Reno, on Thursday.

The grass and meadow flowers are doing okay, though.

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I drove on, across the Sierra Nevada, skirting Donner Pass- the site of infamy, in the mid-1860’s, and over to I-5, stopping briefly at Panera Bread, in Sacramento, for a power smoothie.  The Sacramento River, seen from the highway, appeared to be running a tad higher than the Truckee.

I made it to Mount Shasta, the city of a few thousand artists, ranchers and dreamers, around 5:30.  Finlandia Motel, on the west end of town, was my choice of rest stop for the night.  It has a small spa, which gave me a much-appreciated soak, after checking out the town by car and on foot.

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The office and lodgings have a fairy tale ambiance about them.

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I got to play with my zoom lens a bit, over the past few days.  The peaks to the west of Shasta (southern Cascades) loom larger.

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The town has a fine natural foods market, Berrydale.

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A barefoot young man, seemingly in a state of befuddlement, asked where he could get espresso.  Berrydale has a small deli counter, but it was 7:30, and even natural foods grocers have to go home at night.

Seven Suns, though, is the main spot in town for fine coffee and tea.

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                                   Has Beans is the preferred coffee source in this part of California.

Back to my dinner:  I sat at the counter, and was served by an attentive, mature lady.  Nearby, a local man was working a crossword puzzle.  I was able to give him one of the words, and a man in the booth behind us, gave another.  Our conversation ranged from the arcane (He:  “Different species of people can interbreed very easily”.  I: “That’s because we are all the same species”) to the edifying (He:  “I save all my paperwork.  When the government came after me, I won.”  I:  “That’s good to know.”)  I learn something new from everyone I meet, it seems.