Embracing History, Because It’s EVERYWHERE!

Last week I had a hiccup in the writing process, because I really needed to see Coloma through fresh eyes. I wanted to remind myself what it’s like now, so I could write about it properly in 1848, with the allowance of writer’s prerogative.

Our first stop was the Empire Mine in Grass Valley, where Sripriya and I watched a blacksmith create a treasure for a fourth grade visitor. It was pretty amazing how he did it, amidst the growing crowd and increasing heat. He was a delight; positive, joking with the crowd, and kind to the children. We left his studio talking about our amazing experience.

Then we get to Coloma, which had essentially rolled up mid-afternoon. It was fabulous to visit, and dipping our toes into the American River was a highlight! Yet the ice cream shop opened in a few days, and the coffee house closed at three. We arrived at 3:10, and were very disappointed. So what did we do?

We continued on highway 49 to Placerville, knowing we would find something for each of us. I do understand this would not normally be the quickest way home from Coloma, but we adventurers were still in search of more… More what? We had no idea.

So we stopped at Mel’s Diner and enjoyed a snack and beverage. Coffee for Sripriya, and a chocolate milkshake (my weakness) for me. While we were there, I learned a more about Old Hangtown, as Placerville was formerly named. I also reminded myself, via Google, what placer mining was. I have a lot of info swirling around in my head, and sometimes I just need the focus.

We read an ice cream shop had been built over the ‘hanging tree’. Curious, we asked the hostess as we left where we could find the hanging tree ice cream shop. She said she didn’t live closeby, and had no idea. Shaking our heads, we walked to the car and began searching.

Finding the address, we turned in that direction. Well, not surprisingly, the AI preview was wrong, kind of. The ice cream shop was gone; in its place was a restaurant. There was a historic sign in front of it, and I really, really, really wanted to go in and ask the bartender (the only person I could see through the window, besides two guests) if the place was haunted. I didn’t, but should have…

Anyway, we found a bit of history in Old Hangtown and had a few more laughs, too.

And as of now I have finished chapter 6, tested a bit of my writing on Ali, a student I am working with this summer, and continue to be inspired by my research and the history around me.

Until next time!