Pizza, Puddles, Shopping and Showers

Today in Nevada City, the morning dawned wet, cold and laced with sounds of gurgling water.  The creek in the ravine below this house is unnamed but certainly making its presence known.  There are steep grassy and tree-covered slopes on either side of its winding banks, and it drains the streets and paths that wind and twist through town.  Our friends were concerned that if the wind became gusty, the tall trees in the forest might begin to topple, but that hasn't happened yet.

After a quick and satisfying cup of coffee in the morning, we decided to go for a walk down into town, a distance of perhaps five rickety blocks lined with tall and attractive Victorian Homes.  Of course, just as we left and had walked about a block, the rain began to come down in torrents, worse than yesterday.  Not to worry, we ducked into a cafe and sipped some refreshing juice for a little while.  The rain persisted, so we modified our plan to walk a distance around town.  I finished up some essential gift buying and we were given a lift back to the house to regroup.

The rain stopped but the sky remained cold and dark with heavy clouds.  Considering this a lucky break considering the past 48 hours of steady rain, we all got into our friends' Toyota van and took Hwy 49 to the Yuba River State Park to see what had become of the river in all the rain.

Just east of a more modern bridge used for the highway, a graceful arching bridge built in 1921 is closed to traffic and affords a dramatic view of the stream and rapids down below.  What had been a calm series of water holes locals love to swim and inner tube in has become a mocha-colored torrent that would easily kill anyone foolish enough to venture into the cold and wet.  The water is roaring and tumbling over huge granite boulders; it looks like a living thing now, constantly jostling and surging along its course.

The air was cold and sometimes gusting, but we took a hike along the stream eastward through the flanking forest to see other parts of the river upstream.  Madrone was glistening and sinewy, a dark and dense ruddy wood compared to the sodden oak and pine.  Ferns coat older oaks like feathery pantaloons, and always the roar of continuous rapids in the river below us continued.  It was beautiful, dramatic and wonderful.  I wanted to hike for hours, but we were concerned about the potential for renewed showers, so we turned back after only about a 3/4 mile distance.

Well, that whipped up an appetite, so off we went to Northridge Restaurant for Popeye pizza (spinach and pine nuts) and Greek pizza (feta and olives).  The consensus we reached is that when hiking or skiing is popular in an area, the pizza is fantastic.  Go there; you will be intensely happy it, and life will become instantly improved.  Ours was, certainly, so we toasted ourselves, everyone else alive on the planet and life itself.  That's pretty good pizza.

The best tradition of winter in Nevada City is Victorian Christmas.  Merchants are open for business all over town, but street vendors dressed in Victorian costumes also sell food, crafts, and gift items.  It's intensely cute, quaint and Christmas good cheer bubbles up in even the most Scrooge-like individuals.  The rain had returned again, but then abated, and we lit out for downtown to enjoy what we could.  Fewer than usual craftspeople had braved the elements to sell their wares, but we still got a sense of the potential popularity of the event.

At twilight, lights were glowing, and the air temperature began to plunge again.  Snow is now predicted for tomorrow, but we should be fine and will return to our familiar coast, our own specific groove.