There and back again.. coming round full circle

 I returned this weekend to the land of my conception, the land of my birth, the land of my blood, to celebrate my roots and recognize those that have come before.


My beginnings lie to the North where the sleeping giant, Mt. Shasta, looms topless.

My beginnings lie with mountain men, loggers and hunters/trappers. Country folk through n' through.

 I come from strong hearty rural stock. How rural? Etna currently has a population of 775 and is an hour from the nearest "Real" hospital. Which explains why I was born across state lines. And why my parents later moved to Eureka. The nearest town of consequence, Yreka, is a half hour away and, well, to put the size of that place in perspective.. the police station and library are one in the same.

Anyway.. my great aunt on my fathers side, the last of her WWII generation siblings, was laid to rest this weekend and being that grandpa's ashes had not yet been placed next to grandmas it seemed a convenient and practical time to see to him at peace as well. That event was fraught with a little unexpected excitement. An elder cousin passed out in a manner that appeared to be a heart attack and had no measurable pulse on three different occasions while family attempted revival. Unresponsive female at the cemetery.. the paramedics thought the call was a bit of a joke at first.  But it wasn't funny and an ambulance from urgent care in Yreka was soon on its way. My cousin was released within the hour as they could find nothing wrong with her. Crazy eh? 

In the meantime, mom, Will and I arrived (our first girls road trip) and joined up with the remainder of the family and enjoyed a meal at Etna's finest dining establishment as determined by cousin Jeffs Yelping. Although a little driving around sightseeing might have proven it to be just about the only dining establishment in Etna. I have to admit that the food was far better than the fish tasting waffles and stale croissant sandwich that we experienced at eh purple plum in Yreka. Ick.

The Etna Brewing company was on the street where I spent my infancy. 

It was on the street my then 8 year old cousin fell off his bike riding down the hill to see me. Funny he remembers.. I don't!  Anyway the next generation of cousins now have their own memories of that street.  

At the grown up table, mom reconnected with family long separated by distance, divorce and death. The trip was a treat for her.

Other cousins were there that I didn't hit with the flash as I spent my time digesting rapid discussions of local attractions and other bits of family gossip. It was a fine feast. After all was consumed, we split up and all began our various journey's hotel/home ward. Before leaving, however, Willow, Mom and I made one final stop.

This now dry riverbed was once my fathers favorite place to fish and it was here that we released the last of his ashes. (The majority are in a veterans cemetery near Redding). He will be swimming with the fishies through the land he loved when the rains come. As it should be.

The ride home was uneventful .. except for all the animals I killed. There was a bird, a squirrel and a lizard. At least I avoided the 4 deer that ran out in front of me each at a different time. I think I counted over 100 deer total. It was a pleasant trip drive all told. 10 hours each way. over three mountain ranges and back, under the lingering light of the summer solstice.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IheODRwalEw&feature=kp

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQe3DKDQRRs