One of those Chico moments
My favorite way to enter Chico is from the west, either along Chico River Road or Dayton Road. I like how the orchards suddenly give way to the historical heart of the city without the usual preamble of suburbs.
On my way home last night, I was reminded of how dark these country roads are. I had to put my high beams on, which attracted swarms of bugs. At times, so many of them crashed into my windshield that it sounded like rain. While having this elemental experience, I found it hard to believe that within a few minutes I would be entering a city of 100,000.
A few blocks after Chico River Road turned into Fifth Street I came upon Chico’s Great White Way. The new street lights stretching from east of Walnut to Chestnut street were dazzlingly bright. I hadn’t been out this way at night in a while, so I had never seen them on. By day, I had admired their vintage look. They fit in well with the old neighborhood. But I was glad to find out there was more about them for me to like.
They were like a beacon, welcoming a weary traveler home. As I continued heading down Fifth, I took comfort in passing landmarks that have become familiar to me in the eight years since I moved here — the Stansbury House, the Post office, Senator Theatre, the old City Hall. From downtown I drove through a quiet old neighborhood, where some of the houses were bathed in the soft glow of porchlights, then crossed Big Chico Creek and turned right on Vallombrosa Avenue to pass by the ghostly outlines of Bidwell Park’s sycamores and oaks before reaching the street that leads to my house.
It was one of those Chico moments, a time to remind myself how much pleasure my adopted hometown gives me.