DAY 19 THE WEST END OF 50

After breakfast said goodbye to Jim Bob and Vicki, our new friends of the road.

I hope today will be
a lighter highway,
cause friends are found on every road.
Can you ever think of any better way
for a lost and weary traveler to go.
Bernie Taupin

Headed out to more of the valleys broken by mountain passes. The sky was full of different shaped clouds casting giant shadows. Cresting a pass you could look over the valley ahead full of shadows cast by the clouds. Stopped in an old mining town , Austin, like a small version of Jerome without the people in the middle of nowhere. Lady at the store said population was almost 300. Five churches all built in the 1800's three bars, one store, originally a gold and silver mining area.

After leaving the high desert behind began the climb into the forests finally breaking out of the trees to look down on Lake Tahoe to our west. Wound down the road into the town of South Lake Tahoe before heading around the south end of the lake on US 50. Leaving Tahoe on 50 west is one of the most beautiful drives you can take. A twisty two lane road following a fast moving river in tall pines for mile after mile. Eventually we came out of the trees into Placerville, a town we drove through from the south last year.

We soon made our way to Sacramento and after questioning a local resident found the object of our quest. A CalTrans highway sign that reads Ocean City Maryland 3073. Parked on the side of a busy four lane highway for the photo we had to have. Having found the end of 50 we headed south, it's time to start thinking about home and, of course, planning next years ride.

I continually try and fail to adequately describe this wonderful country as we pass through. Al takes great pictures that are interesting with many taken on the move. Our descriptions and photos serve as a means of recall but fail to adequately convey the beauty and wonder of the land. I'm reminded of a line from a Springsteen song, taken out of context of the song but still fitting the thought.

The poets down here don't write nothin at all;
They just stand back and let it all be.