Last week, I posted a couple more snippets from Mr. Johnson’s tale of his travels across the continent in 1882. In those two posts, he was traveling through the area around Grass Valley, California.

And I heard from two readers (one via blog comments and one by email) that they really enjoyed those particular entries because they live — and drive their horses — in that same area. Thank you both for sharing your stories!

I hope y’all will find this next bit just as interesting. This was Mr. Johnson’s next stop after he’d crossed the canyon …

“North Bloomfield is situated on a high elevation. It is not much of a town for business or population; it is a stop-over place for the teamsters, and about mid-way from Grass Valley to Graniteville. The hotel is about sixty by fifty feet, two stories high, and fronts the east. Its proprietor is a gentleman about sixty-five years old. In front of the building is a store, saloon, and one other building. I think there is also a blacksmith’s shop, which constitutes the town. Standing in front of the hotel, looking east and south, you can see nothing but hills, bluffs, and mountains; to my left, in full view, are the Sierra mountains; to my right are numerous mining districts; in fact, they lay all around. There is an immense amount of freight brought here from around the country, which requires a good road, and they have them. But the way they transport merchandise is a surprise. Sixteen horses harnessed to one wagon and three other wagons attached, making a long train. To me, this was something new, but I found it a common mode of transportation.”