Life of Wry

Poor California.  No snow. Record breaking lack of snow. Which made our annual snow shoeing trip to the top of a ridge (usually high above Donner Lake) to watch the sun set in the west and the full moon rise in the east a bust, at least as far as snow shoeing goes. Instead, we hiked on a dirt road to a place called Iron Point, and watched a lovely sun set, thanks to a few well placed bands of clouds, and a sufficiently dramatic moon rise over mountains and trees.

Started out at about 4:45 or so, unseasonably warmish, and goldeny:

Crossed Southern Pacific tracks, after an east bound train passed:

(Note to self: take train to Reno someday.)

Ambled down dirt road about a mile, mile and a half, and came upon this guy, seemingly out in the middle of nowhere.. looking like Ansel Adams, himself:

Climbed a hill on the way out to the point:

Looked west:

The locals among us had a name for this gap, but I can’t remember it.  Far below is the north fork of the north fork of the American River.  Really, that’s what they called it.  And I believe somewhere below is also Euchre Bar, and a strenuously steep trail we took once, a long time ago, and I still remember that pull out of the canyon.

Once at Iron Point, we had some hot tea with brandy and various, assorted snacks, keeping an eye on the eastern sky.

And after a while, la luna.  She did not disappoint:

This is always an exciting moment, as you can see:

(Actually, I’m sure this expression is related to something else entirely.)

Quickly, she (the moon) disappeared into a thin bank of clouds and looked rather ghostly:

While that was going on in the east, the sky in the west was looking like this:

Sun down, moon up and now behind clouds, toasts complete.. time to go.

We actually needed headlamps to see on the way back because of the clouds.  Often the moon’s bright enough to light the way, especially reflected off snow; but not this time.

And pretty much, that was that.  Back to the cars, back to Susan’s and Jim’s for a two-soup dinner.  Would have been Jim’s birthday (60th!) dinner, but the birthday boy was sick and went to bed.  Hrrmph!

Here is this year’s intrepid moonrise gang:

Jim J, Lee, Heidi, Bonnie, Susan, Jim F and Jay.  Peter, in full teenager mode, opted out completely, Rick and Linda met us at the house for dinner, and as I said, Jim R retired early.  Poor guy, missed his own party.