Lacey, my youngest niece,
gets all dolled up for the parade.
In July, I turned my car back west, to 1) celebrate 4th of July in Bridgeport, 2) go to Bend, Oregon to cover the Cascade Cycling Classic, a 5-day pro stage race, for VeloNews, and 3) return to Bridgeport to put "stuff" in storage that won't fit in my matchbox-sized apartment in Boulder.
Bridgeport is nestled in the Eastern Sierras, just east of Yosemite, in a beautiful valley at 6500 feet. The population is 850, which is booming, as it was only 500 when I was growing up there. The 4th of July celebration has been going on for over 100 years, and is a three-day party that tourists and former locals return to year after year. Good times.
An entry in the parade. Human giants, or mini ponies?....
Oldest niece Abbey smilin' at the parade papparazi.
Brother Bill's youngest, Emma, doesn't think much of the parade.
We're a very cultured people...
3-year-old Alyssa takes a break from chasing thrown candy.
"Ok, parade's over...what's next? Mud volleyball, anyone?"