I joined the Isaacsons and the DMTC Crowd for a trip to Apple Hill. For two months every year, this charming Gold Country, Sierra Foothills location near Camino is overrun by city folks from places like Sacramento looking to buy authentic apples. This year, the cosmopolitan crowds were disappointed - apparently 2017 was a horrible year for apples in the foothills - but since Apple Hill is a bona fide, established "thing", mobs overran the place anyway, to the grateful enthusiasm of the locals.
I'm surprised that, even though the place is very popular with young families, and especially popular with teenage girls, it is not very popular with elderly folks. I was reminded that there is a lot of walking involved here, over uneven ground, so the next phase is to bulldoze the Sierra Foothills to make the place more inviting to well-heeled seniors. The apples hardly matter, as Apple Hill 2017 has demonstrated. People want to buy apple peelers anyway.
Not far from the madding crowd.
I've been here before. I still can't remember what it's called.
Every toddler tried to climb this tree. It has an undefinable allure for the kindergarten set.
Visiting the alpacas. You can feed them for 50 cents.
The Isaacsons have boiled down the trip to its essence: short visits to many agricultural stores in a specific order, like Stations of the Cross. The places usually sell apples, sometimes unusual varieties of apples, but this year they were selling mostly anything but. No matter. Nevertheless, I bought a half gallon of apple cider, two frozen apple pies, and a bunch of vegetarian bean-based soups for the coming winter months.
They call this place Rainbow Farm. Somebody punched a hole through the sun's cheek, so they painted a Bandaid over it.
Claustrophobic in the spacious Sierra foothills.
Power lines make me nervous, with places like Santa Rosa burning down not that far away.
A fellow my age was selling his quartz collection. He's been high-grading quartz up here since he was a teenager. $30 - $40 per specimen.
A madhouse at Boa Vista.
This girl has the right idea.
I joined the Isaacsons and the DMTC Crowd for a trip to Apple Hill. For two months every year, this charming Gold Country, Sierra Foothills location near Camino is overrun by city folks from places like Sacramento looking to buy authentic apples. This year, the cosmopolitan crowds were disappointed - apparently 2017 was a horrible year for apples in the foothills - but since Apple Hill is a bona fide, established "thing", mobs overran the place anyway, to the grateful enthusiasm of the locals.
I'm surprised that, even though the place is very popular with young families, and especially popular with teenage girls, it is not very popular with elderly folks. I was reminded that there is a lot of walking involved here, over uneven ground, so the next phase is to bulldoze the Sierra Foothills to make the place more inviting to well-heeled seniors. The apples hardly matter, as Apple Hill 2017 has demonstrated. People want to buy apple peelers anyway.
Not far from the madding crowd.
I've been here before. I still can't remember what it's called.
Every toddler tried to climb this tree. It has an undefinable allure for the kindergarten set.
Visiting the alpacas. You can feed them for 50 cents.
The Isaacsons have boiled down the trip to its essence: short visits to many agricultural stores in a specific order, like Stations of the Cross. The places usually sell apples, sometimes unusual varieties of apples, but this year they were selling mostly anything but. No matter. Nevertheless, I bought a half gallon of apple cider, two frozen apple pies, and a bunch of vegetarian bean-based soups for the coming winter months.
They call this place Rainbow Farm. Somebody punched a hole through the sun's cheek, so they painted a Bandaid over it.
Claustrophobic in the spacious Sierra foothills.
Power lines make me nervous, with places like Santa Rosa burning down not that far away.
A fellow my age was selling his quartz collection. He's been high-grading quartz up here since he was a teenager. $30 - $40 per specimen.
A madhouse at Boa Vista.
This girl has the right idea.
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