When I drove up Highway 5 late last month, I couldn't even see Mount Shasta. The smoke was that thick. But Dunsmuir was a nice place to stop for lunch in spite of the haze. There were some muralists at work painting a beautiful scene of the Sacto River with giant trees and an old-fashioned railroad engine. Other artists in town had closed up their studios because the air quality was so bad. Dunno where they went instead. Perhaps to lie down with a damp cloth over their noses. I would have done the same, but I knew that it would be different once I made it to Oregon.
Sure enough, it was green and clear in Ashland. The streams were full of water, the wind fresh.
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