I experienced a VERY unique upbringing . . . I was born at home in Little Shasta, CA- population one hundred and sixty (people that is). Little Shasta is nestled in a lush green valley between the Cascade Mountains, and the grand Mt. Shasta, a 14,000 ft volcano. I wouldn’t even consider it a town, it’s more a farming community. There is a two-room school house, a little white evangelical church, a row of mailboxes, and a cemetery. All the houses are spread apart. My house is actually five miles up a dirt road from “the main” part of Little Shasta.
You may ask why in the world my family chose to live in such a place. Well, six generations ago my family purchased land to run cattle on, to feed the California gold miners. So since 1852 the cattle ranch has been passed through the generations. Now my dad runs the operation with his three brothers. Life is slower in Little Shasta. Joy comes from drinking lemonade and watching the sun go down after a long day in the saddle…
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