Two days in the mountains two days in the desert. Part One

I  feel like Dorothy as she slept in the poppy field in Oz.  I honestly can't remember how long it has been since we arrived in Vegas (baby) i am sure they pump mind altering substances into the casinos to make to forget all time & reason.... You could spend hours just inside one casino, honestly not knowing whether it is day or night, your every whim catered for, no need to leave for food, sleep, drinks..... There are no signs in the casinos telling you how to get out, and most of then casinos have no wifi, or it is now easily accessible (nothing to detract from the gambling) and for someone like me that is always scarily drawn towards the flashing lights...seriously we have to leave soon or I will be consumed....

To try and put this into some perspective, we left SF reluctantly many days ago and travelled right down the spine so California.  Hours and Hours of nothing apart from recognising the names on the signs, names out of books I have studied for months. Then we hit the mountains.

And we feel like we are in a cowboy film.  Robert Mitchum should be riding his horse over the hills, saying 'howdy ma'am' and tipping his hat as we pass.  The mountains are VAST, there is simply no other word for it.  At times there is TOO MUCH sky, it makes me dizzy.  We arrive at Kernville and relaaaaaxxxxx.  The motel is small, rustic, sweet, with a man playing a banjo on the porch as we arrive (ukulele Daisy will pipe up, but it sounded like a banjo to me)  The town is tiny, very clean, there is the obligatory fat sherif in his car ('morning ma'am')  and the saloon complete with swing doors.  There is the town green, looked after by the Parks and Recreation department (vote Knope) and there are lots of antique shops that seemed filled with the concept of antiques, rather than anything that is genuinely old

It is achingly cute and I obviously start to plan how we can buy the empty shop and turn it into, well golly gee, I sure don't know but surely there is room in this town for l'le old me?

As it turns out, we can't white water raft, which is the reason we have made this detour on our way to Vegas (baby) as there is no water, white or otherwise.  It transpires that sadly the local economy which is entirely based on tourism (no industry, no employment, nowt) is really struggling due to lack of water.  Well, lack of snow really, which means there is nothing to melt into the rivers.  So not only have they lost their  skiing trade over the winter, but all of the ultra cute guesthouses and bars and adventure companies are in danger of going under as people can not canoe down dry rivers.  Sad.  

Still, for us this is not really an issue, the river is still lovely, the town is ultra charming and it is good to just chill out. There are more reasons to come to the area anyway, the Kernville brewery and especially the amazing Mercedes, our waitress, makes us feel glad we made our way through the mountains.  they brew a mean ale (which we try most of the varieties and yes, we pronounce em good) and cook up a damn fine fish taco.  Daisy also decides she needs a break from her tedious parents and releases us to go and indulge our desire for further exploration. I can hardly contain my grin even now as I think about Silvertown in Bodfish.  Silvertown was created in the 60's by a man that wanted to create a genuine old West Town Theme park, so he started to buy up the old properties and moved them all to his land in Bodfish, which at that point was a thriving town by the side of Lake Isabella.  He lovingly partially restored the buildings, adding treasures and stories he fund from the local area and then left them in a state of 'preserved decay'.  The theme park never got beyond the small high street he created.  And then they created a Bypass around the town of Bodfish and it died.  So now there is an old West ghost town, in a ghost town.

 BUT it is so good!!!! The owner opens up for us and Sam and I wander and giggle and play cowboys to our hearts content!  There are covered wagons, honky tonk pianos, bear traps, mining tools, cowboy and ghost stories and ghost cowboy stories, crazy dummies and genuine atmosphere and it is everything I wanted to see.....The West and the search for freedom and gold is a part of history that I am totally fascinated with and Silvertown perfectly captures that pioneering spirit

 I do not not want to leave and we spend ages talking to the rather crazy paranormal obsessed owner who is convinced he lives in the most haunted place in America.  

We are looked after by the wonderful women that run Cheryl's diner, 5 generations all running the towns diner, complete with aching Country & Western on the radio, endless coffee and amazing local customers, including the two brothers that are the size of American fridges, complete with wife beater vests tight over their vast frames, sun glasses on the backs of their shaved heads and tattooed arms as thick as tree trunks ('now you say hi to Mama for us now y'hear') or the silver couple on their matching Harley's complete with fringed luggage and the slightly slower sister with the wonky eye that takes a fancy to Sam and tells us of how she is always ID'd in bars as she looks so young (she is easily in her 50's)

I love it and could happily have stayed longer, more to explore in the area and I could easily have waited for the snow to come, and then melt just so I could white water raft, at some point.

But nope..... We must head on out.  And as we do Sam & I start to feel as if we are in our own private movie, something like The Trueman show where everything is almost a little too perfect.

Part two to come...............