For your listening enjoyment - New Monsoon
Note: Blogger page display lacks definition and crops the landscape oriented photos.
For best quality and full size click on individual photos or click one and use the scroll wheel to view all.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Strawberry Valley

Last weekend, my daughter's best friend was nearby to visit. She had moved to Virginia with her father about five months ago and was visiting her mother north of Marysville. Since she was only here for a couple of days I offered to take my daughter to see her.

I dropped my daughter off then headed out for a day of exploring.

My first thought was to check out Sutter Buttes, but then I remembered there is no public access except just a couple of days per year, so I headed east and north instead.

Sutter Buttes - the worlds smallest mountain range

Heading away from the Buttes...

I get my first glimpse of the foothills as I crest a hill.

The grasslands north east of Marysville seem to stretch on forever,
dotted with Heritage Oak trees.

I think Matt Dillon sat under this tree that time he got shot.

And I'm sure Hoss courted one of his few female interests under this cluster
until, as usual, she died in the next episode.

Still heading east I begin to enter the rolling foothills leading up to the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

My destination is beyond the most distant ridge - visible towards the right of this photo above the valley in the foreground range.

My first find of the day!
(Did I ever tell you I like old rusty things?)

As soon as I saw this I thought of my friend/fellow blogger/compatriot, Agent 99.
I know she will put it to good use.

The obligatory Floral Series:

Further on, the pavement is gone, replaced by a narrow gravel road. I am now just outside of the town of Strawberry Valley.

Founded in 1851 by Captain Mock and a band of gold miners, the town was named after the wild strawberries found growing everywhere.

It's not a place to make a mistake. The base of the trees in the foreground is about 30 feet below the edge of the road on which I am standing.

As the clouds begin to build, I find myself on a narrow dirt logging road...

which leads me to a burn scar. The timber was salvaged after the fire.

Next destination is the bottom of the canyon below the burn. A sound is calling me...

a babbling brook!

But something is wrong! This is nearly 4,000 feet elevation. The stream should be clear. There is a heavy nutrient load in this stream.

This plant seems to enjoy it, sprouting from the side of a rock.

Roots protruding from the bank make an interesting subject.

No comments :

Post a Comment