This should pretty much wrap up the Northern Washoe Trip of a week or so ago. On our last day, we travelled to High Rock Canyon to visit my father. High Rock was a prominent place on the Lassen Applegate Trail that brought emigrant parties to California and Oregon. It is characterized by high canyon walls and a water source in the canyon. Emigrants etched their names in the rock walls and also used axle grease in a few caves to write their names and dates of their passing. It is a place that I have been to many times before. It was a day of Deja vu for me. As we got closer to the canyon...the Ive been here before feelings came through. The picture of the spring on the hillside; my brother Wim and my dad and I camped there one day after a dusty day knocking about the back country. The old building (in Black and white) is located at High Rock Lake. I camped there with my dad and his friend Bill Pillsbury and his son Clark...a long long time ago. High Rock Canyon was a special place for my father and that is where he wanted to have his ashes scattered. He died in July of 2007 and in October of 07, the brothers and wives took up a weekend residence at Soldier Meadows Ranch. Along with us was Dorothy Amos and her husband Glenn. Dorothy had been my dads friend since 1950. She just passed this past summer. She was my God mother. We took Pop to this lonely spot overlooking where green door cabin once stood. There are a couple of other pioneer graves up there including several children. Imagine leaving your child in such a lonely windswept place? The day we left Pop, it wasnt windswept at all. Not a breathe. We really couldnt scatter his ashes to the wind that day so we decided to place his ashes on a rock and let the wind take him when it felt like blowing. Well.....seven years later, he is still there. The mound of ashes kind of calcified and never really fully blew away. The pile is much less but he is still there. There is a stubborn streak that runs through our family. Other people have found the place and have left things like arrowheads and other pieces of colored rock. We have an old ammo box there with memorabilia of his life. It is all still there. We added a few things this trip. He would have loved what I am doing right now. He loved the outback and was out in it when ever he could. Even seven years later, I sometimes think, while out somewhere: I cant wait to get home so I can call Dad...he will love his. A few days ago, regular reader Leon Skaggs wrote, .... makes me miss my dad , happy memories. Me too Leon, me too. As usual, scroll through the pictures. I have a few comments on some of them.
Posted on: Tue, 21 Oct 2014 16:06:20 +0000
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