Royal Roadtrip

August 2, 2024 steveboilard3 Comments

I’d always felt that there are two kinds of towns in California (and perhaps beyond). The first is the generic and undistinguished town, with the usual collection of faceless corporate businesses (Applebee’s, Chili’s, Home Depot, Target, etc) and the same tract home developments with names like “Willow Creek” or “Creek Willow,” where you literally would not be able to tell which specific town you were in without a sign to tell you.

The second type is the town that has some distinctive character that makes it recognizable. This second category can be further subdivided into towns with an organic distinctiveness (due to their history or topography or whatever) and those that fabricate their character out of whole cloth.

I was reminded of this distinction when I recently received an article from loyal reader Karen Y. The article lists six “themed towns” in the US that “lean into their own unique identities.” Some of these, like Tombstone, Ariz., have legitimate historic links that make them special. Others, like Santa Claus, Indiana, less so.

*Predictably pointless 11 months out of the year.*

Two of the six “Themed Towns” are Leavenworth, Wash. (pop: 2,400) and Solvang, CA (pop: 6,000). Alert readers will recall my 2022 blog post about Leavenworth, which postures as a Bavarian village. As I noted in that post, the civic leaders in Leavenworth had visited the Danish-themed town of Solvang as part of their planning to go Full Saxon.

*Faux-Danish Solvang (from* The Discover Blog’s “Six Themed Towns” article).

Though not mentioned in the article, there’s a Swedish-themed town in California’s Central Valley that might warrant inclusion on the list. And, like Solvang, this town’s civic leaders also visited Leavenworth before they launched their Scandinavian make-over.

The “Swedish” town we’re talking about is Kingsburg (pop: 12,600), which is about 20 miles southeast of Fresno on CA-99. It is sited next to the Kings River. And it’s where I spent an enjoyable day this week.

Kingsburg enthusiastically embraces the Swedish vibe. Everywhere (and especially on the main street that cuts through downtown) you see Swedish flags, dala horses, half-timbered facades, and even a gigantic Swedish coffee pot. Check it out:

*Traditional folkcraft “Dala Horses” are everywhere*

*Even the town’s water tower fits the theme.*

*At Peet’s, its the cup rather than the pot that gets the Swedish treatment.*

Like so many California settlements, Kingsburg owes its existence in part to the railroad. In 1873 the Central Pacific Railroad established “Kings River Switch” as a flag stop, where boat-borne freight was transferred to rail (and vice versa). The town’s name was changed a number of times, to Wheatville to Kingsbury to Kingsburgh and finally to Kingsburg.

Notably, the railroad station still stands today. And fortuitously, I arrived on the one day of the week the station is open for tours. Docent Steve (no relation) showed me around. The current building was constructed in 1888, and was moved to Kingburg in 1902 to replace the original station that had burned down. Remarkably, both stations were constructed from the exact same plans (“Southern Pacific Common Standard No. 18”), so the replacement station was simply dropped directly onto the foundation of the station that had burned down.

The station/museum is maintained by an amazingly dedicated crew of volunteers. It’s been restored to appear as it did in 1922, when it was modernized with electric lights, steam heat, and a stucco facade. The latest restoration took place 2007-2015, and it’s a well-executed, authentic restoration. The station is full of period-correct antiques, including many pieces (such as the telephone, freight scale, and some furniture) that are original to the depot.

*The stucco walls are period-correct for the early 1920s.*

*Docent Steve in the office, with original scissors phone and telegraph.*

Docent Steve is a knowledgeable historian who’s eager to share his knowledge, but the one thing I couldn’t get him to shed much light on was: Where does Kingsburg’s Swedish connection come from?

This is a question I pursued at the local bakery. The woman behind the counter said she thought there used to be “a lot of Swedes living here,” but that “these days hardly anyone is Swedish.” She said she never really gives it much thought.

Next I asked at the coffee shop: “What’s the story behind the Swedish theme of this town?” asked I. The young woman seemed to be taken by surprise. “What Swedish theme?” To her it was all just decoration, I guess. “I commute from Fresno,” she added, as though that explains everything.

The clerk at my hotel darkly observed that “The Church controls everything in this town.” I wasn’t sure if she meant the Church of Sweden or a local parish or maybe some kind of Elmer Gantry figure. I thought it best not to ask her to elaborate.

Finally, at a local cafe a friendly woman (who, alas, wouldn’t consent to being photographed for this blog) advised me to talk to the owner of the Svensk Butik gift shop. “She knows all the history of this town.”

And that wasn’t an exaggeration. June (for that’s her name) comes from honest Swedish stock, was born in Kingsburg, and opened her shop here 39 years ago. She’s been a major force behind the town’s Swedish theme. Dressed in traditional Swedish garb, she told me the story behind Kingsburg.

Here’s the short version, and I apologize if I have garbled anything. Back in the 19th century, Swedish immigrants came to the Midwest to escape religious persecution and find employment. They took up mining, agriculture, and other trades. But over time some became restless and began to the west coast, where the weather was better, might be the ticket. A scouting expedition was dispatched, and through some fortuitous encounters that featured someone’s cousin, the scouting party determined Kingsburg would be a suitable place. Many Swedish-American families subsequently came out to settle in Kingsburg, and by the turn of the century virtually the entire town was ethnically Swedish.

Notably, those early settlers didn’t try to replicate the architecture and other trappings of the Old Country. They were just trying to sink roots and make an honest living. It was a fairly prosperous town, served by the railroad and the river.

In the 1960s the railroad ended its passenger service, and then CA-99 became multi-lane freeway that whisked travelers past the town without stopping. To make matters worse, many local residents made use of that same freeway to shop in Fresno and other towns. Kingsburg needed something to bring business back to its commercial center, and that something became the Swedish Plan. The aforementioned visit to Solvang followed. June tells me that the good folks of Solvang warned the Kingsburg delegation against becoming too much like Disneyland. Evidently there’s some regret among Solvang’s residents that the Danish village is built to serve tourists but not residents. June tells me that, in her opinion, Kingsburg found a good balance, where the Swedish theme is evident and attractive, but the underlying services remain practical and accessible to the town’s residents.

She also mentioned that Kingsburg holds an annual Swedish Festival every May, with native food, crafts, music, and the like. I may need to come back.

After hearing June’s story, I reconsidered my typology of organic vs. contrived theme towns. In some ways Kingsburg is promoting its very real Swedish history, although few of the current residents have any connection with the Old Country. But what struck me was the friendly vibe of the place. Every single person I spoke with was kind and welcoming and happy to be there. The public spaces were clean and attractive and welcoming..The main street even had Swedish music softly playing over speakers. Even if the Swedish heritage feels a bit forced, it doesn’t feel fake. This is just a nice, friendly, attractive town that I’d like to visit again.

There is one dark postscript to this story–Kingsburg is the headquarters of Sun-Maid Raisins, which is nice so far as it goes.

Caption from the back of the box: “On July 1, 1992, this box was dedicated by Mrs. Gayle Wilson, the wife of California Governor Pete Wilson, as the World’s Biggest Raisin Box. The box was originally constructed and filled with 16,500 pounds of Sun-Maid raisins to establish a world record in The Guinness Book of World Records by business students from California State University, Fresno, as part of a class project.”

However, a neighbor to the Sun-Maid plant is evidently at war with the company, putting up combative signs, maintaining an expose-themed Facebook page, and offering passersby “free tours” of the environmental degradation supposedly caused by Big Raisin.

*It doesn’t exactly look like the Cuyahoga River.*

It seems the neighbor (Doug Johnson) is upset that some of Sun-Maid’s “raisin processing discharge” ends up in his ditch. I can’t offer any judgments about his claims, but I will say that this doesn’t appear to be a Silkwood situation. So let’s move on to the..

BREW OF THE DAY

For reasons that are too convoluted and uninteresting to get into here, I had my BOTD at the Seal Beach Grill in Seal Beach, CA. It was a warm day, so I decided an IPA would do the trick. The Seal Beach Grill does not brew its own beer, so I had an Elysian Space Dust IPA. Elysian Brewing is based in Seattle, and, like so many breweries, is owned by Anheuser-Busch. But let’s not hold that against them.

Space Dust is a bright, flavorful IPA. It’s got a fresh sweetness that’s nicely balanced with several different types of hops. It presents beautifully with a golden honey color, lively carbonation, and a decent surface of foam. At 8.2 percent ABV, this is a big beer that happens to go down easy. On a hot day it can be downright dangerous. Ask me how I know.

Four stars out of five.

Breweries

Heading East to South of North

July 8, 2024 steveboilard3 Comments

We’ve been experiencing a heatwave this week, with temperatures getting well above 100 degrees. Then on Saturday statewide news outlets reported a fire had broken out near the Placerville airport. Given the tinder-dry conditions and the large number of historic wooden structures in the area, my mind naturally turned to this question:

There’s an airport in Placerville?

I’d certainly never heard of it before. And now it was burning?? Borrowing an aphorism from Ronald Reagan, I decided to trust but verify. So this morning I headed up the hill and just east of town I came to the very real Placerville Airport (PVF). It’s a one-runway airport that apparently mainly handles private, single-prop aircraft.

*Sign for Placerville Airport suggests it’s a MIG jet fighter base.*

I didn’t manage to get a photo of the airport because there was a Sheriff’s cruiser blocking the entrance, presumably to keep our lookie-loos like myself. But I can report that there was absolutely no evidence of a fire. No scorched trees, no smell of smoke, no nothing. This is odd, because to judge by the news reports you’d think it was the Second Coming of the Great Chicago Fire. Friends and relatives from all over the country have been texting me asking if our home was threatened by the inferno.

Anyway, as long as I was heading east on US 50 I figured I’d continue up to Lake Tahoe and enjoy a respite from the heat. I met up with my old college roommate, Bruce, who was with his dad at Zephyr Cove for a music camp. It’s always nice to come up to Tahoe, with the smell of pine and the views of the lake and the cool(er) temperatures.

Near Zephyr Cove is a brew pub with the confusing name of South of North Brewing Company. This is where Bruce and I went for lunch, and we were glad we did. It’s nestled into a relaxing setting, with plenty of outdoor seating under pine trees and solar shades. Amidst the outdoor seating are a ping-pong table and the now-requisite Cornhole game. A rustic but homey building houses their service counter/bar, an event space, a bar, and their brewing operation. Yes, they brew their own beer. Today they had eight of their delicious beers on tap, plus another half-dozen guest brews. Notably, they are the only brewery in the area to draw their water directly from Lake Tahoe, and I want to think it makes a real difference in the taste. Didn’t some Brand X brewer used to say “it’s the water, and a lot more”?

*Monday afternoon at South of North, before the crowds.*

The head brewer is a Sacramento transplant named Thomas. He’s been here for a little over three years, and with a single assistant they make all those beers. The brewing space is a converted hotel room. (Their business abuts an old hotel.) Their brewing tanks were custom designed for the space.

*Head Brewer Thomas draws a Lakeview Blonde from the tank.*

So Bruce and I found a table in the shade and enjoyed pastrami sandwiches, salads, Bavarian pretzels with beer cheese, and a handful of beers. The food was delicious, the weather was perfect, and the bartender, Heather, had her personal 1970’s classic rock playlist feeding into the speakers. It was just what we were looking for.

*Heather, who wasn’t even born when most of her playlist was originally recorded. Here she’s promoting the BOTD.*

Meanwhile, the Community Engagement Event Coordinator, Sam, was setting up a stage for their signature “Listening Room” program, where local artists share their music and tell their stories. The place was a hub of activity, and is clearly one of the go-to destinations in the Tahoe area.

*Event Coordinator Sam and a random helper set up the stage.*

*Lots of stuff going on at South of North!*

So, if it hasn’t already been made obvious, this is an awesome place that’s a worthy Tahoe destination, no matter where you’re coming from. I’m definitely coming back soon.

BREW OF THE DAY

The BOTD is South of North’s Solar Midnight Imperil Stout. This is a deceptively drinkable beer, even on a hot day (by Tahoe standards). It’s exceptionally smooth with the consistency of strong coffee. Served with almost no head, this is not as heavy or creamy as your average stout. It has distinct notes of chocolate, coffee, vanilla, and licorice. Each sip is pretty sweet on the front, but it finishes with some mild hoppiness that keeps the whole experience from becoming cloying.

This beer clocks in at 9 percent ABV, which is why it’s only available in a 10-ounce pour. You can’t drink just one, though, so I was compelled to order a second. Then Sam bought me a third as a way of saying thanks for helping her with the stage curtain. It wasn’t until after I finished that one that I realized I hadn’t taken a picture of my drink. Given my dedication to my readers, I was compelled to the counter and asked for another pour purely as a photo op. Heather insisted that this one was on the house, and I felt it would seem ungrateful not to drink it. This all explains why I’m sitting here trying to sober up before heading back down the mountain to Placerville.

*Heather serves my fourth imperial stout, strictly for photographic purposes.*

California history · trains

Octopus’s Garden

June 25, 2024 steveboilard2 Comments

Very recently I visited the second-oldest railroad depot in California. And that naturally got me to wondering about the first-oldest (otherwise known simply as the oldest) railroad depot in California. And that would be the Santa Clara Depot, built in 1863.

I happened to grow up near Santa Clara, and I’m sure I must have visited the Santa Clara depot with my friend Detlef, as he and I would regularly ride our bikes to various railroad sites in the area to explore the ancient (though still-active) passenger cars and use our cassette recorders to capture the panoply of sounds emanating from the Southern Pacific locomotives as they pulled their trains to the platforms. Occasionally one of us would take a photo, but this was in the days before phone cameras, and lugging around an SLR was a hassle. Still, it was those experiences–seeing and hearing and smelling the various aspects of the moribund Southern Pacific passenger trains in the 1970s–that number among the best memories of my youth.

*Atmospheric photo at San Jose (*not Santa Clara) railroad depot, circa 1978, by childhood friend Detlef Kurpanek.

The Santa Clara Depot was built by the long-forgotten San Francisco and San Jose Railroad Company. Like most of the other small railroads in California around that time, the SF&SJ was acquired by the mighty Southern Pacific (non-affectionately known as The Octopus).

*“We would be so happy, you and me/No one there to tell us what to do”*

Though it’s survived for over a century and a half, the depot has undergone its share of work over the years. Notably, in 1877, the entire station was moved across the railroad tracks and joined to an existing freight facility. The historic photo below (lifted from my Uncle Edward’s celebrated Dome o’ Foam) clearly shows the original passenger depot in the front, connected to the larger freight building in the back.

*Santa Clara Depot circa 1895, c/o The Wx4 Dome O’ Foam.*

As you can see from the photos I took today, the original appearance remains largely intact.

*The platform at the back of the depot features a 1912 Pullman observation car.*

*Back in 1912, they knew how to work ornamentation even into a railing.*

A hundred and fifty years ago, before Starbucks and shopping malls, a railroad station like this would be a major hub of activity in the community. Santa Clara Depot’s fortunes of course declined in the automobile age, but it survived the shift of passenger service to Amtrak, the demise of Southern Pacific, and the arrival of CalTrain. Indeed, the depot still had a functioning ticket office as late as 1997.

Today the depot is part of what’s called the Santa Clara Transit Center, where several rail and bus lines converge. There are also plans to eventually tie in a BART extension.

*CalTrain made a stop while I visited. Seems to me the 160-year-old station is in far better shape that the trains.*

While the depot no longer offers its ticket office or waiting room or even restrooms to train travelers, it does house a railroad museum. Sadly, the museum is only open two days a week, and was closed when I was there. So I can’t report on the depot’s interior features. That said, the building lends an authenticity and ambiance to this transportation hub, and I’m pleased to see it featured so prominently.

Just a stone’s throw from the depot is another historic structure: This “interlocking tower” (whose purpose is to control rail switches in the nearby Santa Clara railyard) was constructed in 1926.

The tower was in service until 1993, when switch and signal controls were centralized at San Jose. Those of you who watched the 2010 movie Unstoppable know the risks of that kind of technological advance….

Anyway, next to the tower is a commemorative plaque installed by the City Council in 2002:

..and next to that plaque is a second one, installed by E Clampus Vitus in 2013. Note in particular the narrow secondary plaque beneath the main one:

*Raises more questions than it answers…*

Now, there are two notable points here: First, while E Clampus Vitus installed the second plaque 11 years after the City Council’s plaque, they take pains to point out they were prepared to be first. You’ve got to wonder what caused the 14-year delay. Second, and more importantly, is this: What in tarnation is E Clampus Vitus? You see their plaques all over the west. Are they a legit historical society? A dangerous cult? An Andy Kaufman-esque hoax? You can of course get some insight to these questions through Wikipedia, but I am going to do some hard-hitting investigative journalism on this topic and present a full blog post on ECV in the near future. If any of my loyal readers is a member of the ECV (i.e., a Clamper), please contact me.

In the meantime, I leave you with this sign that stands at the Santa Clara Depot, which raises a question that a Clamper might ask: Who is the “Lookout” for the locomotive?

California history · Golden Bear signs · Obelisks

Obelisk and Doggie Head Update!

June 19, 2024 steveboilardLeave a comment

Attentive readers will recall that last November, while in the Bay Area burg of Port Costa (pop: 200), I encountered this dachshund from the long-defunct Doggie Diner chain.

*That’s son Ian wearing his sunglasses improperly.*

Today as I was cruising CA Route 49 through Amador County, I passed another Doggie Diner head. This one is at the Vino Noceto winery in the town of Plymouth (pop: 1,100).

The giant heads adorned the 30 or so Doggie Diner restaurants around the Bay Area (concentrated mainly in San Francisco). It seems that when the chain closed in the 1980s, many of the doggie heads were purchased by private parties. The owners of Vino Noceto got theirs in 1985 at a fundraising auction for their kid’s nursery school. On a lark they had offered $300, expecting that surely someone else would outbid them. But theirs was the only bid. Let that be a lesson to you all.

These orphan heads remind me of the Golden Bear signs. I encourage all faithful readers of this blog to report any Doggie Diner Heads you might be aware of. And of course, also let me know of any Golden Bear sightings.

Speaking of crowd-sourced photo collections, loyal reader Brian W shared this photo he took of an obelisk in front of the South Carolina statehouse.

*The bronze frieze panels flanking the obelisk depict African American History.*

Brian has been commissioned to photograph all the state capitols, which is itself an impressive project. The obelisk is part of the state’s African American History Monument, and was installed in 2001. The artist who designed the monument asserts that obelisk is a form that originated in Africa. Wikipedia tells us that the earliest obelisks come from Egypt, so I guess it depends on whether you consider Egypt to be an African or an Asian country. Either way, the monument is an impressive one and is part of a historic compromise that also removed the Confederate flag from the statehouse building.

That’s it for this brief update. Next week I’ll have the story of California’s oldest operating railroad depot.

bridges · California history · Hydrology · trains

“We’re Number Two!”

June 13, 2024 steveboilard6 Comments

The other day I passed a billboard near Sacramento State University, which touted the campus football team’s Number 6 ranking in a media poll. This of course raises the question: how quickly do bragging rights decay as you move down the list, from first to second to third to fourth….?

A 1966 novelty song (on heavy rotation on Dr. Demento’s radio show while I was growing up) poked fun at this phenomenon. “The Ballad of Irving” sang the praises of the “142nd fastest gun in the West.” My favorite line: “A hundred and forty-one could draw faster than he/
But Irving was looking for one forty-three.” Give it a listen:

I bring all this up because son Ian called my attention to “the second oldest railroad depot in California.” It’s in Calistoga, in the upper Napa Valley. The depot was built in 1868. (A quick Google search identifies the oldest Depot as Santa Clara Depot, which was constructed in 1863.)

The important thing about the Calistoga Depot is that it held a grand (re-)opening just a couple of months ago, and it’s now repurposed as a microbrewery, distillery, and restaurant venue. Once I learned this I decided it’s obviously time for a road trip. So this morning I set out for Calistoga.

The city of Calistoga (pop: 5,300) was established in the mid-1860s, centered on Sam Brannan’s Hot Springs Resort. Sam Brannan had come to California from New York in 1846, and made his fortune selling gold pans to the miners during the Gold Rush. It should be noted that he first bought all those gold pans and other gear from every supplier in the West, monopolizing the market shortly before the Gold Rush became big news. He sold the equipment at an enormous profit.

*Sam Brannan, doing his Honest Abe impersonation.*

As a result, Brannan became California’s first millionaire. In addition to building the Resort he co-founded the Napa Valley Railroad. The Calistoga Depot marked the northern terminus of that short line, carrying vacationers from the Bay Area.

Brannan’s Napa Valley Railroad didn’t last long, and was absorbed by what eventually became the Southern Pacific. SP dropped passenger service along the route in the 1920s, but today trains run again on those rails, in the form of the Napa Valley Wine Train.

Incidentally, the name “Calistoga” is supposedly the result of an unintentional Malapropism. Brannan liked to compare his Hot Springs Resort to the famous Saratoga Springs in his native New York. So at the grand opening of his resort, he intended to say something like “Here’s to the Saratoga of California!” But it came out as “the Calistoga of Sarafornia.” (OK, that’s not exactly a Malapropism. Leave a comment below if you know what specifically this error of speech should be called.)

One other thing about Sam Brannan: He built a distillery that cranked out huge amounts of bandy that, it’s said, rivaled the finest French cognac. All this, as a Mormon leader. The brandy will figure into our story a bit later.

Anyway, as I was saying, I headed out for Calistoga this morning. I took the scenic route roughly paralleling Putah creek westward from Davis. When I stopped for gas in Winters (pop: 7,300) this second-story window of an old office building caught my attention. I guess Sam (Spade, not Brannan) decided to relocate 70 miles eastward from San Francisco sometime after solving the Maltese Falcon caper.

“*Don’t be too sure I’m as crooked as I’m supposed to be.*” –Sam Spade, in The Maltese Falcon.

I followed Putah Creek to Monticello Dam, which was built in 1957 as a hydroelectric project that also resulted in Lake Berryessa. (Since we’re focused on rankings, Lake Berryessa is the 7th largest man-made lake in California.) After 65 years, the dam is showing its age, but the lake remains a popular spot for boating.

*Looking down at the spillway, where water exits the dam.*

Conveniently, I rolled into Calistoga around lunchtime. And there was the Calistoga Depot, in all its glory. If Monticello Dam is looking a little long in the tooth after 65 years, the Calistoga Depot looks fabulous after more than 150 years.

In fact, it might be a little too fabulous. Over the past few years the property has undergone an extensive renovation and repurposing, to the point that it doesn’t really feel as authentic as some of the dilapidated historic structures I’ve seen on other travels. I fear most of the Depot’s ghosts are long gone. Still, the building’s footprint and outward features are largely as they were in Sam Brannan’s time. Just compare the above photo to the historic photo near the beginning of this post.

Adding to the ambiance, a half-dozen vintage passenger cars are situated at the station platform. Each car is being used as a restaurant, bar, or boutique. Sadly, the “First Millionaire Saloon” car was closed today.

*I got the tickets and a reservation set for two/Luggage waiting on the track/But I got no use for reservations without you/I got to give the tickets back* -Lucky Millinder

But all was not lost. You can sit anywhere you like on the property–inside a lounge railcar, out in the biergarten, inside the Depot itself–and then you can order whatever you want–drinks, food, dessert. Roaming servers make sure you’re taken care of wherever you choose to sit. I opted for a seat in the biergarten, as the weather was perfect, and had me an awesome wood-fired pizza and a flight of local whiskeys.

*Number 2 is my favorite…which we’ll revisit when we get to the BOTD.*

Although all the whiskeys are local, none is distilled on site. It seems that the fire risk inside the ancient station is just high. So they work with other local distilleries to create house brands.

After lunch I moseyed into the Depot building itself. It’s an impressive space, with upstairs seating that looks down on the main bar, taxidermied animals, a regulation pool table, antique chandeliers, historic photos, and various artifacts.

*Worthy of California’s first millionaire.*

I bellied up to the bar and was served by the estimable Eddie. He’s been here since the (re-)opening, which admittedly was only like two months ago. But still, he’s in for the long haul. He served me a full pour of the second tasting from my flight: The First Millionaire Single-Malt Scotch.

While I enjoyed my Scotch, Eddie pointed out a few features of the bar. Such as the shovel handles lining one end of the bar, and the shovel heads lining the other. Obviously, these are a reference to the tools Sam Brannan sold to the miners at exorbitant prices.

*One of these things is not like the others….*

I’m sure you spotted the irregularity among the shovel heads. Yes, it’s a–ahem–hoe. Eddie informs me it’s a none-too-subtle reference to Lola Montez, who was a famous Bohemian courtesan (among other things). Could she have been a lover to Sam Brannan? Eddie thinks so.

Which leads us to today’s BOTD–which is not a beer, but a rye whiskey. (Let’s call it the “Beverage Of The Day.”) Named “Fame and Misfortune,” it features a picture of Lola Montez.

It’s a straight rye finished in Angelica (brandy) casks. Eddie poured me a healthy two fingers, and we were off to the races.

Now this is a soft and spicy rye. I’ll leave it for others to opine on how that might correlate with its namesake. But this is exceptionally smooth and warm, with no bite. I detect hints of cinnamon, cloves, licorice, and anise. The ABV is a standard 80 proof, which suited me just fine for the lunch hour. I enjoyed it so much I was ready to take a bottle home, but at $150 I found the price (but not the whiskey) hard to swallow. Four stars out of five.

After making my goodbyes to Eddie, I had one more mission: Remember that Sam Brannan had started out in this area with his Hot Springs Resort. It turns out there’s lots of geothermal activity in Calistoga. (It’s not for nothing that Calistoga Mineral Water is based here.) Today, one of the most famous such features is the Old Faithful geyser, which would be my final stop.

On my way to the geyser I crossed an old (1902) stone bridge over Gannett Creek. I can’t find much in the way of history about the bridge, but she’s a beauty. They just don’t make ’em like this anymore.

*Not a whole lot to see from the roadway….*

*But from the (dry) creekbed, it’s an impressive structure.*

Twenty minutes later I was at Old Faithful. Not to be confused with the geyser in Yellowstone, this one is, well, not quite as faithful. The time between eruptions can be anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour. Today it was about 30 minutes. While I waited, I checked out this photo op:

Now, doesn’t it seem odd that the hole for your face isn’t replacing the goat’s face, but just his forehead/nose?

*I know what’s going on* my Christmas card this year…

Finally, I was rewarded with a spray of 130-degree water that lasted over five minutes. Check out the video:

Near the end it seems to encounter prostate issues. Not that I’d know anything about what that’s like…

And thus concludes my trip to Calistoga. I must say that the Calistoga Depot preserves a worthy slice of California history, not so much because of the short-lived Napa Valley Railroad but because of larger-than-life Sam Brannan. And even those without a huge interest in early California History can enjoy some great food, drink, and hospitality.

Stay tuned for my visit to the oldest railroad station in California, in about two weeks!