Kathy and I have always been fond of California’s Central Coast. We try to make the trip down Highway 1, from Monterey to Morro Bay, at least once every year. Weather permitting, we do it during late winter, when most of the tourists are away and the gargantuan beachmaster elephant seals are rumbling up and down the shore, chasing would-be suitors from their harems.
Over the years, Kathy and I have often dreamed of escaping today’s fast-paced, hectic world and moving to an island of our own—an island of trees, flowers, and abundant wildlife, where we could experience the joys of nature without leaving the confines of our own property. Realizing that buying an island wasn’t a realistic option, we decided to do the next best thing and create one on our three-acre patch of oak woodland in the foothills of Northern California.
The first time I experienced the awesome grandeur of California’s Eastern Sierra was in 1975, when, as a rookie Fish and Game warden, I drove there on assignment to work the Crowley Lake trout-season opener. That spring, the majestic mountains to the west were covered with snow, and the entire scene, from Mount Whitney to Mammoth Lakes, looked like something you’d see on a Christmas card. Over the years I’ve visited again and again, sometimes in the spring, sometimes in the summer, and sometimes in the fall. Whatever the season, the Eastern Sierra always offers an eyepopping display of color and natural beauty.
When the Outdoor Writers Association of California chose Siskiyou County as the site for this spring’s writers conference, I couldn’t have been more pleased. I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for this unspoiled land at the top of the state since I first discovered it fifty-three years ago.
Just like in the Statler Brothers’ song, the Orland High School Class of ‘66 had its dreams. In June of 1966, all 138 of us spread to the wind and set out to live our dreams, much like the Orland High School classes before us. Some went on to college, some served in the military, some pursued occupations elsewhere, and some remained in this wonderful little Northern California farm town for the rest of their lives.