Back home to California

By TARMO HANNULA

In this final leg of our October road trip, where Sarah and I rolled through northern California, Oregon, Washington and to the top of Vancouver Island, B.C., we departed Eugene, Ore. on Highway 5 and aimed for Yreka, Calif. for the second to the last night of the 17-day trek.

One of the highlights of the trip was in Eugene when we managed to track down two sculptures my dad donated to public institutions while completing his Masters of Fine Art at the University of Oregon in 1958. One was a sandstone piece on a pedestal in the hallway of the downtown Public Library that the helpful—and stunned— reference librarians helped us find. It still had a name and title label beside it: “Sleeping Horse,” Walter A. Hannula.

A short drive took us to Sheldon High School where my father’s master thesis work, a Picasso-like 8-foot abstract standing figure, still graces the campus entrance 65 years later. In the office the staff told me they had no idea who the artist was and where the sculpture came from. They shyly admitted to painting it forest green to match the surrounding campus. If my dad was alive, I’m sure he’d be driving there now with a grinder in hand to restore and repair it to its original off-white finish.

We were lucky to spend an afternoon with our long-time friend Mariann Clancy, one of the folks that got me started in photography when I first met her in 1975 when we lived in Eugene.

The abundance of rain Oregon commonly gets was apparent by the endless carpets of green pastures, farmlands and forests as we aimed south through Cottage Grove, Ashland and Grants Pass. As we crossed the line into California along Highway 5, we steered toward Yreka for the night, an early-day gold mining town that drew prospectors and laborers from all over. Once we dropped anchor at the hotel, we found a map in the lobby of an interesting walking trail that introduced us to a wealth of beautiful Victorian homes. Some of the homes had names, scribed on historical plaques. Fancy filigree, ironwork fences, river stone chimneys and sprawling wood porches marked many of the attractive homes.

For dinner we found Natalie Thai on South Main Street for a satisfying meal and a glimpse of local folks.

Driving through the region showed us traces of Gold Rush days like the remnants of brick saloons and markets with their iron fire doors still clinging to rusty hinges. We drove south on Highway 3 and paralleled Trinity Lake to Weaverville, population 3,667. Here, the main street still has early day overhangs above the sidewalks and The Diggins Tavern holds a central spot downtown,