SOLEDAD IS A PRISON, BUT NOT HERE.

With my Sheriffs Department background, Soledad brings to mind the prison by that name. But, here, at Soledad Canyon Thousand Trails, is the true meaning of the Spanish word, solitude. It fits this quiet, peaceful site that meanders across the Santa Clara River with approximately 800 sites--- without feeling crowded.

I spent time in the beautiful hot tub. Its cool here, and the pool is closed for repair work.

When we move to a new place, it is our habit to walk the park, see where everything is located, and just get a feel for the place. We noticed a lot of tree work going on in several sections of the park. Old giants, laid down for a final rest.

Beauty still, in its rot and decay.

Like all Thousand Trails, they have multiple activities for kids and adults. Tennis, basket ball, several "kiddie"  playgrounds and picnic areas, horseshoes, an arcade, miniature golf, a couple of outdoor amphitheaters. This is the first TT we've seen with an old tractor for kids to climb on.

We heard coyotes our first night, but literature warns hikers about cougars in the area. On our walk we saw the fattest crow and a few other birds. In Palm springs our walk around the site was 3 miles. Here, it felt like the same distance with just one circle around the perimeter.
 Events here are bus trips into Los Angeles on Thursdays and Saturdays to visit Olivera Street,  the Getty Museum, the Queen Mary, a farmers market, Hollywood, Union Station, Sana Monica, Venice Beach and so on. A continually changing menu of things to see and do.  And, you don't have to drive.
Planned events at the lodge vary with the time of year. We already see flyers for the up-coming St. Patricks Day Corned Beef and cabbage dinner for 99 cents. The big lodge has a huge dance floor and restaurant.
People come up out of the smog filled cities and can enjoy this restful, peaceful place at Soledad Canyon.

CLYMER REVISITED

Yesterday, Wikipedia provided information on the George Clymer Columbian Press, one of which is located at Quyle Kilns in Murphys. Pam Quyle very graciously sent me more information on the press, which follows: Hello Mary, The press is an 1825 George Clymer Columbian Press. Clymer patented the press design before the war of 1812. It is considered an American invention. However, the Colonial printers rejected it preferring the ease of mobility (and cost savings) of the wooden press (getting out of town before being tared and feathered...) Clymer took his wooden prototypes and moved back to England in 1817 and set up a foundry outside of London and produced the cast iron presses there for many years. They sold very well in Europe where print shops stayed in one place. Clymer changed the ornamentation on the presses from year to year. First changing the coiled serpent of the thirteen colonies for a sea serpent and adding a cornucopia of fruits around the brass face plate, and offering other counterweights other than the American Eagle . (The French however preferred the American motifs as they were geared up for revolution also. ) The presses sold throughout Europe and were widely copied. The press we have here in Murphys was sold to a print shop in Nottingham England in 1825 and is one of 12 remaining made by Clymer himself. Paul Quyle (Pam's father) heard it was for sale (in 1962) through an English printing friend, and cabled a bid of two hundred dollars for it which they accepted, boxed it and shipped it to us. Six of his presses have been brought back to the Americas and the other six are still in Europe. In California there are 5 presses, one at UC Davis, ours and three at a printing museum in Los Angeles. The sixth one is at the university at Reno Nevada. Clymer died at age 80 in 1834. The Columbian press continued to be manufactured for many years after his death. However every year shows progressively less ornamentation and the presses became strictly utilitarian. Our press is in perfect working order and sits in our pottery show room in Murphys where it's story entertains (and surprises) our guests daily. Eventually we plan to donate it to a library who will cherish it as we have. The Smithsonian had one on display for many years and just closed their printing section and sent theirs to that printing museum in LA. (Humph!) Thanks for your interest, sincerely Pamela Quyle

Life As A Hobo?

My friend Jim found a piece likening Hobo's to the RV Wanderers he has met during his years on the road. It touched me in a personal way since my father, Bill Moore, was once a hobo. He lied his age and joined the army at age 16 or 17. When they discovered he was underage the paymaster allowed his mother to pick up his check. As a headstrong youth, he decided that if they wouldn't pay HIM he wouldn't serve. He went AWOL, jumped trains and traveled for a couple years from Michigan to Los Angeles living in typical Hobo Jungles. His wanderlust satisfied, he returned to Michigan during the depression to face whatever was in store for him. Instead of consequences he met and married my mother.
The similarities are there, riding the roads, always favoring warmer weather, owning only what you can carry nets a simpler way of life. Only the courageous should apply.
For me there is no risk except meeting and enjoying unique people.
Last night I found myself reminiscing about Dad's proclivity to take in "bums" when we were growing up. We learned some "forbidden" songs if Dad took a swig to much.
"Oh, lady would you be kind enough to give me a bite to eat,
A piece of bread and butter and a ten foot slice of meat.
A piece of pie of custard to tickle me appetite,
For really I am so hungry I don't know where I sleep tonight.
Hallelujah I'm a bum. Hallelujah, bum again. Hallelujah give us a handout to revive us again.
(From memory, not sure on accuracy.)