Nao found enough to coat the bottom of his vial. Merchants all, they arrived at the gold fields, then sold pants or wheelbarrows or chocolate. Dreams of striking it rich and the reality of panning took us to lunchtime, so we drove to Placerville. The town is well stocked with family-style and fancier restaurants, as well as motels and hotels for folks who wish to stay in conventional lodgings. Located in what is still called the J. Pearson Soda Works, the emporium was built in 1859 as an icehouse over a depleted gold mine.
Patrons can walk to the back and see a tunnel into the side of the mountain.
On the way to Placerville, we passed fruit trees and vineyards, a reminder that gold country has become wine country. Some aficionados compare the area to Napa and Sonoma in the '60s, and dozens of wineries offer tours and tastings. Since I was the only driver of legal age, we instead headed back to Cool for supper. That night, I fell asleep to the amphibian chorale and, from the next room, Japanese punk rock. But it wasn't over.