A hundred years ago Pony Express riders used to stop at Upper Lake. They rode across hills and canyons on a route that stretched 500 miles from Sacramento, San Francisco and Eureka. Sometimes they delivered the mail faster than the U.S. Postal Service delivers the mail today. Started in 1862, the Pony Express, as hard as they tried, lost money. While it never made money, it did prove that the same routes, those 80 hard-riding pony riders traveled, were the same good routes that helped make us one nation.
Until the 1980s, the old feed mill stood on its original spot on Second Street. First used as a grist mill, farmers from all around brought their grain for grinding. The manager sold animal feed and had a band-saw that would cut lumber to order while you waited.
Ralph Gibson worked for the mill until he decided to start his own feed business. The mill went downhill after that. Now that old barn-like building is only used for storage. Too bad. It was a happy place where farmers used to gather, chew a cut of plug and pass the time of day before taking home their grain. That is a time that will not come again.
The new Upper Lake Post Office is next door to Beulah’s Eatery. After Mr. Richards father died, Maybelline Richards, his daughter, ran the office for nearly 30 years. There is a list of all the post masters who have operated the post office since 1852. Their names are cut into an oak slab that is fastened to the wall above the booklets and certified receipts. Maybelline’s name is there and so is Gertrude Richards, Maybelline’s mother. There are two Scotts and a Gonzalez.
They are as friendly and neighborly as they have always been. Next to the mail counter there are a dozen postal boxes. I lost my box key one time. The sign above the boxes says, “Replacement, $15.00.” Ron, the clerk, charged me only a dollar.
There is a painted mural on the wall next to the counter. The painting shows a Pony Express rider galloping on Main Street through town. Do not imagine for one minute Upper Lake is not progressive; some time ago, an artist added to the mural a missile flying into space.
In 1924 Upper lake died a fiery death. At least temporarily. The fire burned most of the buildings on Main Street. When catastrophe strikes, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, as Lake County’s residents always do, that misfortune did not keep them down long. Upper Lake was reborn. Today the town has a fine hotel, restaurants, a couple of churches and all the antique stores any traveler could wish for.
The business in Upper Lake that seems to do the best, hands down, is the doctor’s place on Main Street on the south side of the post office. The good doctor has prospered in the 30 years since he and I met. His small informal diggings used to be on the corner farther down the street in a nondescript building that has been remodeled into something nice. Today the doctor’s practice is housed in a grand three-story business building and his patients are as happy as cows in clover with the medicinal herbs he prescribes. But that’s another story.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
