Good-bye God, I'm going to Bodie

One little girl, upon learning that her family was moving to the remote and infamous town of Bodie, wrote in here diary, “Good-bye God, I’m going to Bodie.” The phrase came to be known throughout the West. Bodie State Historic Park, formerly a gold-mining town, with a population of nearly 10,000 people at its peak in the 1880s, was once a haven for gold-miners, gamblers, rouges, prostitutes, and other such miscreants and unfortunates. Walking the dusty roads, I once again felt pity for turn-of-the-century prostitutes. Goodness, it must of been hard being a gal during the turn-of-the-century, much less, in the American West. In my antique day dress, I fit right in with this old ghost town. I wished that we were able to explore more of the insides of these forsaken buildings. The Miller House was open to the public, and the pictures that I took of its interior display a beautiful state of arrested decay. The sunlight shone through the windows and delineated all the scraps of lives past. I was enamored with the faded hues of pink, tan, and green, the stained and peeling wallpaper, the doors all flung open suggesting a hasty departure, the worn yet sturdy antique furniture.

a picture of me hangs on the wall

old Methodist church erected in 1882

driving with my eyes closed always gets me into trouble.

Friends, there's more to come - Twin Lakes, the town of Bridgeport, Yosemite National Park, and the Alabama Hills of Lone Pine, and maybe more. I lived many different lives in 4 days, but I only wore one hat.