most of which were wooden bears and 'Big Foots'. Although we were sorely
tempted to make a purchase we were prevented from doing so by two factors.
One, the size of our van did not leave room for huge wooden souvenirs. Two,
good taste.
By the evening we reached Dunnigan, not far north of Sacramento, having
abandoned the scenic roads in the afternoon in favour of Interstate 5. Faster,
if more congested, the Interstate was not without great scenery as we drove
with mountain ranges in the distance on either side of the road, the coastal
ranges to the west of us and the Sierra Nevadas to the east.
We had covered more than a hundred miles since leaving Crescent
City and the campsite in Dunnigan suggested that we were back in
civilization. It was lighter, friendlier and even had a golf course – a sure sign
of civilisation if ever there was one! We were also able to buy a new water
hose. However, when we went out to dinner we soon realized that we had not
left small-town America.
Outside of a restaurant a middle-aged man was standing looking into some
bushes. When he saw us he called us over, shouting ‘There's a cat, playing
with a mouse.’ We wandered a bit closer and noticed the man's wife sitting in
their car shining the headlights on the said cat. I remarked ‘That's a bit mean’
and she agreed, but added ‘its entertainment.’ We walked on, smiling and
nodding to avoid causing offence; obviously there is not much to do for kicks
in the sticks. But at least Tom and Jerry are alive and well. Though it looked
to me as if Jerry was in line for an early grave.