For this year's summer vacation, we decided on a grander style of road trip. One of those trips where time is left to explore and wander at will.
The over all plan was to drive to the bay area in two days,
spend three days visiting with family followed by a
leisurely four day drive up the coastal highway to
Neskowin, OR. To top off the road trip, we had rented
a beach house for two weeks of beach walking, eating,
and TV free, computer free relaxation.
Our first stop heading south was in Oakland, Oregon.
Big E had stories of Christmas tree hunting in Oakland
from his childhood to share, as well as stories of he
and I visiting in the Time Before Children. The old
downtown core has been preserved, and we had a
nice lunch at Tolly's, a refurbished soda parlor.
We stopped in a lot of old downtowns in small towns
during our trip. I love seeing the details in the old
brick buildings. We toured the first of our small town
museums in Oakland. It was a clean and well organized
affair with well detailed personal stories of the town's
past.
After lunch, we detoured briefly through Roseburg, and
still made it to our evening destination in Ashland with
time for a swim in the hotel pool before our dinner date
with Auntie T and Uncle Fozzy.
Auntie T and Uncle Fozzy were a real treat. We ate
pizza and talked and talked. The first day of driving
was our longest day (4 1/2 hrs), and spending time
with such fun company really made the day.
Our second day of driving started out hot.
We are not a family that thrives in heat, and
Little e, who suffers from car sickness, is especially
heat sensitive. We had planned on lots of stops and
detours to little towns, but honestly it was too hot.
We crossed the border into California,
and watched the temperature increase as we headed
south. When we were just north of Weed, CA,
Little e started feeling poorly. We drove into the
Weed's main drag and looked for somewhere to
for our girl to regain her car health. There's not
a lot open on a Sunday, so Big E just parked the
car, and Little e and I started walking down
the hot, dry, main drag. We passed two blocks
of closed, largely empty storefronts, and then
we saw it... the local museum located one block
over, and amazingly, it was open.
Little e ran back to the car, bouncing with
excitement. "A museum, we found a museum."
The museum is not a lot to look at from the outside,
but inside resides a collection of locally gathered
items from the past 150 years. Weed was a lumber
town, in its heyday. The payroll books* and the inn's
ledger are both held in trust by the museum. While
I poured over the payroll records from 1915 and Big E
talked to the curator, the girls ranged ahead only
to race back to us full of excitement.
The curator was so tickled with the girls' excitment
that he let the them climb up onto the fully restored
engine from the 30's. It is a beautiful piece of
equipment.
Then, when we admired the fully restored mail coach
he let the girls climb on board. He even demonstrated
the leather strap shocks by rocking the coach up and
down with the girls bouncing about inside.
With so much to look at and learn about, it was only
the dire need for lunch that pushed us onward.
We drove onto in Redding for lunch, and then continued
south. With temperatures in the 100's, we did not
do our normal exploring. Instead, we drove straight on
to Bay area. Our stop is Weed was a major source
or delight for the rest of the day.
* In the payroll book, each employee was listed by name,
and then occupation. Their rate of pay per day was listed,
as well as the number of days work in the month.
Then the deductions were listed. Each employee donated
$1 per month to the hospital, room and board if used,
and their purchases at the company's mercantile.
The curator said that you could buy anything you
wanted at the mercantile, except a car. Interestingly,
the person who made the most money (on the page
I looked at) was the engineer, but he also was the
person who spent the most ($90!) at the company
store. In the end, he took home the same amount as
many of the base laborers.