After talking with the ONE nice person I could find in this town, I walked down to the end of Hot Springs Road to check out the hot springs. Was met with PRIVATE PROPERTY NO TRESPASSING and KEEP OUT signs stacked ten thick. So yeah I walked past them just to see the springs. About two seconds later a big white Ford truck rumbles in from out of nowhere and a fat dude with a serious beer gut tells me to get out. I ask if he's let me pay him just for a short dip in the springs but he said no. Fiiiine. I count them as my seventh hot spring visited even though I didn't get to swim in them. Walked there from Mexico so it's got to count, eh? Glad that the fat guy didn't shoot me for being on his "property" or send me to the Jail... The name of the springs are the Indian Valley Hot Springs. I imagine that there are some "Indians" who would like to dispute his claim to owning the "property." Onward.


Touring beautiful downtown Greenville I passed this lovely restaurant open seven days a week! For Breakfast, Lunch, AND Dinner! Oh wait, it's closed. Moving on.


A-HA! The mural sponsored by Wells Fargo glorifying the gun-totin a-hootin and a-hollering days of pioneer yore. I was gonna post the pic of the depiction of the Maidu Indians but it was too depressing. I think I want to read Ishmael again.


Hey there Mister Cheerful Snowman! Howdy-do? Oh wait, that's not a broom you've got there huh? That's a sharpened metal farm implement and you'd be chasing me out of town with it if you had some legs. Oh man. Before I walked out of town I was greeted by a jolly fella and his family pumping gas. I hadn't looked over or said anything but he felt it was necessary to belch out a rousing "F*&%ing Hippy." Good stuff.


Just before I hit Lake Almanor I stumbled into Canyon Dam, a community of RV parks, a bait shop, and a bar or two. This place had a sense of humor, as evidenced above. I liked the vibe here.