WHAT THE HELL

Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like

Gratitudinal musings

That’s the little country roadhouse where we had our pre-Thanksgiving dinner Wednesday night. It’s been there, on the side of Highway 49, since 1947, when it was just a Quonset hut set up to feed logging truckers. In fact, the Quonset hut is still in there, in part, behind the facade on the right half.

We had a couple of steaks — it’s prix fixe, inclusive of steak, salad, baked beans, and a dish of ice cream (flavor of the day) — a couple of martinis, and we sang Happy Birthday to three different people in the room. You can pay a little less there and cook your own steak on the open grill, but we decided to let the chef (who was also our waitress) do the deed. Rare, baby.

Almost didn’t make it on time because our hike just before threw us a curve and we popped out of the woods on a country road and had to make our way back to the car with dusk yielding quick to flat-out dark. It’s always a longer walk when you need to be somewhere. No worries, though. They saved our table for us.

Then yesterday we walked along the American River, way back on the Middle Fork, and only turned around because the trail headed uphill and we wanted to stop and eat lunch. Found a nice rock to sit on right beside the river and ate our chicken/stuffing/cranberry sandwiches with the dog. Pretty much heaven, cool and overcast but sparkling with fall color.

Only the arrival of a politician who came by on a training run threw things a little off track. He’s trying for a county board of supervisors seat and claimed to be neither Democrat nor Republican, though he sure sounded like a Republican to us. We thought he was a little strange too, wearing no shirt and talking way too much. He had me take his picture as he stood on a rock. Maybe it’ll wind up in his campaign materials, though nobody wants to see a politician shirtless, if you ask me.

By the time we got home, we were all pooped and ready for a chillin’ evening of lamb vindaloo, a fire in the fireplace, and enough TV to get us to bedtime.

Thanksgiving.

 

8 comments on “Gratitudinal musings

  1. kingmidget
    November 24, 2017

    What’s the name of the roadhouse you had dinner at? May need to stop by there some day.

    The Middle Fork hike is one of my new favorites. Great views of the river and close enough to it that you can get to the water in a lot of different places. Sounds like a beautiful day, except for that pesky politician. He sounds like somebody who doesn’t stand much of a chance.

    • Kevin Brennan
      November 24, 2017

      That’s The Willo, just outside of Nevada City. Not sure why there’s no “w” at the end …

      The Middle Fork is great. You can go as far out as your weary legs will take you, but you always have to remember that you need to walk the same distance back! 😐

      • kingmidget
        November 24, 2017

        And everything that was downhill is now uphill

  2. Audrey Driscoll
    November 24, 2017

    Sounds like a good time was had by all. Even the politician. As for shirtless, our Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, has appeared that way a few times, weather permitting (which means not ’til next summer at the earliest).

    • Kevin Brennan
      November 24, 2017

      Between Trudeau and Putin, we’ve had our fill of male torsos. 😐

      • Audrey Driscoll
        November 24, 2017

        And at least Trump hasn’t tried it (yet). πŸ˜€

  3. pinklightsabre
    November 26, 2017

    What a nice time. Sad it’s over, eh? You do it right.

    • Kevin Brennan
      November 26, 2017

      Over, but we’ll do it again next year!

      How’d your gravy turn out? 🍽

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This entry was posted on November 24, 2017 by in Publishing and tagged .
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