We're approaching North San Juan on 49.

Our favorite super-sized ice cream cone stop.

Oh how we used to enjoy swimming here, where Oregon Creek joins the Yuba.

I want to go to Downieville, but my chauffeur prefers Camptonville.

Looking back...gold was discovered here in 1850, and the place became known as Gold Ridge. The name was changed to Camptonville in 1854 when the first post office opened. The name honors Robert Campton, the town blacksmith.

It was a center of the California Gold Rush and stopping point for travelers coming from Virginia City, Nevada (via Reno and Verdi) on the main route at the time, Henness Pass Road, or for those coming from the Donner Pass. It was the typical roaring town with over fifty saloons had brothels, and even had a bowling alley. After the gold mining petered out, the local economy depended upon Camptonville's lumber mill. When it shut down, more people departed. Ironically, fast-growing ponderosa pines took over the town and most remnants of the original wood structures decomposed. Some buildings left include the Lost Nugget gas station and convenience store, a post office, Camptonville Elementary School, a monument to the Pelton wheel, and the original Mayo Saloon.

The 2010 United States Census reported that Camptonville had a population of 158.

Not much remains of the big lumber mill where Mel used to haul logs through  this gate.

Is this the historic Mayo Saloon site? We remember eating in this place when the Jack's had a restaurant here after moving from Nevada City. Got a kick out of a review of Burgee Dave's at the Mayo. "Okay, so you can't talk about Burgee's without talking about the owners...Brian and Sandy. They are what makes this place more than a bar....Just spent all day pruning the vineyard and need a snack and a beer? ...... Go to Burgee's!...Drive up to your property for the first time in the winter and discover that it's under 3 feet of snow and there's no way you can get up the road?.....Go to Burgee's!...Have a bunch of food for a Super Bowl Party that no one came to due to afore mentioned 3 feet of snow?.....Go to Burgee's!...Caught your first fox in the fox trap and don't know where to go to release the growling, hissing little monster?....go to Burgee's!... Need to get your fill of local town gossip?....go to Burgee's!....Having problems with your well and need to find a "well-guy"?....go to Burgee's!...I could go on....but I think I've made my point.....Go to Burgee's...
And as Brian always says, "Ain't no party like a Camptonville party!"

The Pelton Wheel monument.

Our memory of the good Judge Acton M. Cleveland.

This old weathered tree.

We stop to turn around where the old highway comes into 49. Mel's reading about the hydraulic mining that took place here.

It reads, "Hydraulic mining is the deliberate eroding of the gold bearing gravel banks. Water was brought to the diggings by a system of dams, reservoirs, ditches and flumes. By using a nozzle, the water was directed toward the bank and the loosened gravel was run through sluice boxes where the gold was extracted.

The Joubert family came to California sometime before 1867 and settled in nearby Oak Valley, which had a large French population. They successfully operated this mine until 1941, making it one of the oldest continually operated hydraulic mines in California."

After turning around we head back to the Pendola ext. road, expecting to go by the old Pendola ranch we had visited in the past. Lots of storm damage being cleaned up into piles along the road.

Another sign. We probably should have turned onto the gravel dirt road here, but continued on this one. Notice the big crop of sugar pine cones this year. We used to have one of these giants in our back yard. One day I heard a commotion beneath it between a blue jay and a squirrel. Suddenly a large cone dropped between them that ended the dispute. I looked up and saw the other squirrel that had dropped the missle. My laugh for the day.

We followed this road to the dead end overlooking Bullard's Bar and had to turn around. Then we saw the sign indicating the Kennedy ranch and Pendola ranch roads. It look dubious, but we decided to check it out. The further we went the narrower and rougher it got. Reminded me of the Canyon Creek road after winter rains washed it out.

It was getting narrower with deeper ruts and overgrowth that might make it harder to turn around. One time we got lost in our bigger motor home near Sumpter, Oregon and spent the night on top of a mountain. The next day we stopped at a restaurant and mentioned it. They were surprised we made it in the RV. Mel was a former log truck driver who hauled in worse places than that, so I wasn't too worried.

Mel backed up to where we could turn around. Soon we were on our way back to the highway.

Two trees embracing.

By this time Oregon-Yuba crossing is now in the shadows. The North San Juan saloon was busy. Lots of motorcycles and people outside, but I didn't get a picture.

As we drive by, Peterson’s Corner looks unusually deserted. It's a landmark for Nevada County dining and drinking. Lots of memories about dinner, and dancing parties here. It has been in operation since 1937 and is still a local favorite.

In May 2011 Peterson’s Corner’s management was assumed by Gold Rush Hospitality LLC, owned and operated by Michael and Jodi O’Dell. They're  third-generation Nevada County natives who spent 15 years in the Seattle area longing to return. After returning in the fall of 2010, they took on employment where it could be found, and found their niche in this place.

The Yuba crossing is always beautiful, and many people still enjoying the waning sunlight.

We're going to stop and have a steak dinner at our favorite place.

Couldn't miss these three beauties out front.

....And our favorite proprietor who's always smiling. Make reservations  because they get a big crowd. We forgot the reservation, and didn't get to eat with them, but there was plenty of room in the back where they serve banquets. On the walls are lots of neat photos of the good old days. The Willo is owned by a very nice couple, Mike Byrne and Nancy Wilson. They've kept up the tradition of the Willo. When you walk in the front door there are some photos on the wall to the right.

In 1947 Bill Davis purchased a surplus WW II Quonset hut from the U.S. Army. The hut was located at Camp Parks in Sacramento and was disassembled and transported to the site of the Willo at the corner of Highway 49 and Newtown Road. It was re-assembled and opened as Bill Davis Hut, a popular watering hole for the lumber and mining work force. It was later sold to a local couple and it became The Hut.

In 1963 Bob and Peggy Tucker purchased the Hut and renamed it Tuck’s Hut. With a truck load of lumber from a local mill they enlarged the bar and added a covered structure on the east side where they built a grill pit and served hamburgers through the window to the bar patrons. A “Gold Miners Special” (burger and beer) cost sixty cents. In 1969, the Tuckers leased the property to a local tavern owner, Frank Williams, who was forced to move from Grass Valley to make room for construction of the new “Golden Freeway”. Together with Veda Folden who with the help of her husband and brothers, converted the covered structure into the main dining room and the Willo Steakhouse was born. The banquet room was added in 1973. How did the Willo get its name instead of the Willow? What happened to the W on the end? Well, it’s a combination of one of the prior owners names, Frank Williams last name and his wife’s first name Lola.

Below are a few photos from the back dining room.

Some loggers by the Steam Donkey that replaced oxen and horse log haulers.

Hydrolic mining...Big time erosion.

These two men are using a mortar and pestle to check a small ore sample. Note the candle pick at left, their only illumination.

We're nicely surprised to see Dennis and Becca on our way out.

And bid our cook a greatful thanks and goodbye until next time.

No matter what time of day I always enjoy the view down Broad Street in Nevada City.

And a days end view of Glenbrook and Brunswick on the way home.

 

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