I left Muir Wood at 10:30 and got $17 worth of $1.899 gas in Mill Valley and back onto to 101. Into country territory, rounded hills, mostly covered with grass, some short rounded-out trees, a bit of water. California 37 (the El Camino Real) at 11:08, flat country to my right, hills to my left, family houses on them, squat little trees, grass. Sonoma County Line over a bridge with a lot of water down there underneath me on the right, less to my left, one lane each way, separated by a Jersey barrier. A lot of boats off to my right. Now I'm on a kind of dyke or something that cuts across a large bay with a bit of marsh to my right. Mare Island. Onto to I-80 at 11:32. Sky is blue with straight streaks of white, not cirrus or cumulus, a collection of houses, some city or town or whatever to my left, rolling grass- and tree-colored hills with some cattle to my right.
    Onto I-505 north at 11:55, 65 degrees. Flat country, fields off to my right, more houses to my left, beyond them are mountains some away, low one-story houses. Fruit orchards, a Spanish style house with a square tower, fields yellow something. Lots and lots of sheep, a few of them black, pretty much flat country except for mountains off to my left. Rows and rows of something planted, white sticks marking the rows, something green between the sticks, lots of brown, a yellow field, sky of cirrus clouds, a solitary naked tree alongside the road.
    I-5 north at 12:25, still going through green fields, the mountains to my left moving further off. There's a fair amount snow on one of those bluish purple-gray mountains in the distance, otherwise just flat farm country. No doubt about it--this road is deadening and I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. Glenn County Line. Not a lot of houses out here, storage tanks. Willows at 1:05, where I had slept one night in 1966. Now there are mountains off to my right as well, one of them snow-capped, further away than those to my left. There seems to be a very huge very snow-covered mountain up ahead of me. At first I thought it couldn't be a mountain but a cloud but now it's taking form as a mountain with snow going down and down and down its slopes, covering the whole mountain, not just the peak. A whole ridge of snow-topped mountains ahead of me as I cross the Sacramento River. A turkey vulture circling hopefully over the road. It is now very clear that that is a mountain not a cloud, rising high and white over everything else, the culmination of a ridge of peaks, some with snow, some without, none anywhere near as big as whatever peak that is. The Shasta County Line so that it's probably Mount Shasta. Lots of horses, maybe some donkeys, out in a field.
    Leaving I-505 for California 299 and Burney at 2:35, temp 70. Turn Creek Road. Mount Shasta now off to my left. Out of civilization now, no houses visible, a curving road with a falloff to my right, a bare steep hillside to my left, a creek down there to my right, lots of pines, some naked trees, some kind of evergreen with oblong leaves, the Sugar Pine Conservation Camp, the town of Ingot, pop 31. Another rusted tin roof. Montgomery Creek. An overturned trailer truck. Pines just marching up and down alongside me.
    Burney at 3:45, temp 56, to spend the night at Alex and Linda Colvin's, a house that belonged to his mother, the town where his father had run a logging company. I met Alex at the Year of the Rabbit Coffeehouse in Bowie, Maryland. I had never talked much with Linda until now. She's a very gracious woman. We talked till way too late.

Mount Burney