The Back Way

I needed to go to Shingle Springs on the day of New Year's Eve. There are three ways to get there from my house. One way takes me across country to Freeway 50. The second way is to go east on Hwy. 16, then cut north across country on a winding road. The third, the road less traveled, is Latrobe Road. It isn't paved except for a half mile at each end, it's one of the few dirt roads left in Sacramento County. In the winter there are streams that cross it. But this winter it hasn't rained. It's very dry. I hadn't been on Latrobe Road for a long time, so that's the way I went. It's the shortest route, but takes longer than the other two because you have to drive slow.

This is the Ruman cattle ranch on Michigan Bar Road. It has been here for a very long time. The house on the right is fairly new - maybe 35 years.

And this is the old house. The road goes right through Ruman's barnyard, so they appreciate it if people drive slow. They probably shoot you if you drive fast. (I would.)

The Ruman ranch is adjacent to the Cosumnes River, the same river than runs past my house. It's probably 12 miles upstream. This is the one-lane bridge across the river. On the far left is a gauge that measures the depth of the water.

When I was a kid, Mr. Ruman would call his sister who lived across the road from us, and let her know if the river had gotten high enough to worry about down here. These days I can check on the water level online. It takes about an hour for flood water to travel from Ruman's to our house, just enough time to get out if we have to.

This is the road beyond the river. I haven't driven it much, but I used to ride my horse on it a lot.

Actually I think it was faster on horseback, especially when we turned the horses back toward home. Here is an open area through cattle pastures.

I didn't see another car on the whole trip, which is less than 10 miles. The road was pretty torn up wherever the rain water gathers.

Why is this? Because every idiot who owns a 4-Wheel Drive vehicle has to go out there and drive like a fool. I ran into 7 or 8 places like this. It must really irritate the cattle people who have to drive out there to check their cows. The county only grades the road once a year, in the late spring.

At the end of the road, on a paved section, is the little, very old, "town" of Latrobe.

This is a story my grandfather told me about Latrobe Road, which hasn't really changed since he was a young man.

My grandfather, Earl, was driving for Amador Stage Lines. When he started, I think he actually drove a team of horses, but eventually he drove an open-sided vehicle that was like a station wagon. One winter he had a car full of people to take to Sacramento from Amador County. He'd heard that the road through Sloughhouse was flooded, so he took the back way, Latrobe Road.

Out in the middle of nowhere, the car broke an axle. My grandfather had to leave his passengers and the car and walk 5 miles or more back to Latrobe. It took quite a while to get there, round up parts and another vehicle to transport the people, and get back to the passengers. He was worried about them because it was a cold, windy day.

When he topped the last little hill, it was night. He could see a big fire near the car. The passengers were having a great time. One of them was transporting a case of red wine from D'Agostini vineyards. They opened a few bottles and had knocked down some fenceposts to make a bonfire. My grandfather was griped with them, he didn't approve of drinking.

I always think of that when I'm on Latrobe Road.

So, my destination this time was another 5 miles past Latrobe to Max's house. A few of us got together to meet friends who had come down from Nevada. What fun we had talking about the "good old days" when we were horse show brats. We also celebrated Carolyn's birthday.

Carolyn, Henry, Carlotta

And because we're all old, we went to dinner early and all got home before dark. I didn't want to take a chance on a busted axle in the dark, so I went home on the freeway.