Earlier this month, Jeff and I made the 12-hour trek (closer to 13 with pit stops) from Arizona to Sacramento, California to celebrate a truly special milestone—my Uncle Johnny’s 90th birthday. The drive may have been long, but the memories we made along the way, and once we arrived, made every mile worth it.
One of the unexpected highlights of our road trip was discovering Bravo Farms Cheese Factory, tucked just off CA-99. This charming roadside stop had an impressive selection of artisan cheeses, with generous samples that made it easy to find a few favorites. We left with a couple of cubed varieties and a few blocks to enjoy throughout the weekend. The runaway favorite? A bold, flavorful habañero cheddar that was a home run winner.
For our stay, we booked a beautiful Airbnb in Colfax, a quiet town nestled in the Sierra foothills. Our in-law suite featured a private deck, its own entrance, and sweeping views of the surrounding mountains. Occasional sounds of nearby farm animals only added to the charm, making it feel like a peaceful retreat. Although the host family lived on-site, they were incredibly respectful of our space, and their children were delightful and hardly heard.
Uncle Johnny’s birthday celebration was hosted by my cousin Bill and his wife Courtney at their lovely home about 30 minutes away. It was a joy reconnecting with my extended family, sharing stories, laughter, and memories. While my dad—Johnny’s brother—wasn’t able to attend, he had his own special visit with Johnny around the same time.
One of the most meaningful moments of the trip came during a quiet conversation with Uncle Johnny. He surprised me with an extraordinary gift: an old .22 pistol that had belonged to my grandfather, John G. Thompson. It’s now the only heirloom I own from him, and the story behind it is a treasure in itself.
My grandfather purchased the pistol for just $1.25 (or perhaps $1.50) from a fellow miner in Bear River, Colorado—a remote mining camp where my father was born. A vintage family photo shows the two-car caravan my grandparents used to leave Bear River, one of which had a makeshift wooden camper on the back, loaded with all their belongings. Strapped to the side of that vehicle was a wood-burning stove and its pipe. To think that this very pistol made that rugged journey with them is nothing short of incredible—a true piece of Thompson family history.
Before we left, Bill offered me one more priceless keepsake: my grandmother’s old sewing machine. He had beautifully restored the woodwork, and it now sits proudly in our entryway as both a decorative piece and a sentimental reminder of our roots.
I’m deeply grateful to Uncle Johnny and Bill for their generosity and thoughtfulness. To be entrusted with these pieces of family history means the world to me. This trip was more than just a birthday celebration—it was a reconnection with legacy, family, and the stories that shape who we are.
