As High As An Elephants Eye

 At long last I couldn't stand it any more.  I had to get out of dodge, if only for the day.  I probably should have thought this through a little better and not gone the day after a long night of Bingo.

My first stop ... the Merced River which comes out of Yosemite National Park.  At this particular point in its journey to the valley, you can usually walk across it.  It's so shallow people ride down it in inner tubes and get stuck all the time.  To see this is pretty crazy.  It's partly because the snow is melting fast, and partly because they are trying to lower Lake McClure above, so it can hold more water when the REAL snow starts melting.  It's a dance with epic consequences.

There is actually a small boat ramp I was standing on when I heard squawking like you wouldn't believe.  Okay, there's an eagle around here somewhere.  After looking through my camera, I found her, or him, sitting on their nest.  It's unusual to have them so low in the valley, but we have two pair that nest here every year.  She's very unhappy with the buzzards circling overhead.

Another shot of the river almost at flood stage.  This is usually a little creek in the bottom of the riverbed.

It was the perfect day for a ride, just before all the grass turns brown with our three 90 degree days.  As I came around the corner, this looked like a cemetery.  We don't HAVE a cemetery here, so I stopped to take a look.  

The grass is as high as an elephants eye.  Those are bee boxes, stacked three high and you can barely see the tops.

Cattle are everywhere this time of year.  As with any group, they have one or two leaders.  Everyone goes where they go.  Since springtime is also biting fly time, you will see them all standing in mud puddles.  Why you ask?  Because flies bite their legs.  Ever had one bite you?  It's not a nice feeling.  Imagine a hundred of them on your legs.  Standing in water keeps them away for a time.

Since it's spring and the grass is high, cattlemen have moved their herds to these fields for food.   You never leave them in one spot very long, but move them again to another field to keep them from eating the grass too short.  If you don't, it takes much longer for the grass to come back, so you have less feed next time.  It's a balancing game.

I admit, I was not surprised to see this on the hill.  Look closely ........

Cattlemen and ranchers are pretty conservative and extremely patriotic.  They are also very hard workers and think everyone else should be too.

At last I pulled in to the lovely little town of Hornitas.  That was the original name when the post office opened in 1856.  In 1877 they changed the name to Hornitos, meaning little ovens.  That's because the old Mexican tombstones were built to look like little square bake ovens.

This highway looks exactly the same as when I was here as a kid driving cattle trucks through town.  That's the general store on the left and the gas station on the right.

The general store is still in operation today.  It's run by Eric Ericksen and his wife Megan who also have a cattle ranch up here.  We ran cattle on their place back in the day.  I didn't get to talk to her much today since PG&E had the entire town's power shut off.  

Sadly, the gas station is falling apart.  Although this used to be quite the active little town, there are only 38 residents here today.  What a shame to see it going downhill.

This sign has been here ever since I was a kid.  Back in the day, they were serious about speeding through town, mostly because the streets are barely 20 feet wide.

Gold was the main attraction, which brought Domingo Ghirardelli to this little town.  His fortunes were not to be found, so he opened a general store in 1856.  He perfected his chocolate recipe in that store, selling it to the miners who did hit it big.   Eventually he headed off to San Francisco.  What's left of that adobe building is across the street from this one, which was the grocery store when I was a kid.

This plaza was famous for the phone booth at the right corner of the building.  It was the one and only.  The post office is just to the left under the sidewalk cover, followed by a tiny restaurant called Roy's Cafe which is now closed.  It was a fun place to visit when we were hauling cattle up here.  

In 1855, this was another general store, owned by Mr. Brownfield and his partners.  After several fires (no mention of how they started), he sold it to Mr. George Reeb who moved his meat market here.  He ran that store until his death in 1913.  Finally in 1940, the family sold it to another man who opened a bar in the front and lived in the back.  It's a fabulous adobe building that sadly doesn't look like one.  

One of the better preserved buildings, this was built from native rock in 1873.  In 1875 it was purchased by the Freemasons and is not only the smallest, but the oldest in the State.  It's been in continuous use ever since.  

Although it seems to be disappearing, this little town is still kicking.  Once a year they have an enchilada feed that raises money for various projects, one of which is keeping up the adobe church and graveyard.  

There's much more to this trip, but I'll continue it tomorrow.  I'm still trying to recover!!!