Growing up on Yankee Hill, I remember this pervasive myth that Table Mountain was actually the bottom half of the Sutter Buttes, and that by looking at a topographical map you could see that the outlines of both match up perfectly, if set on top of one another. Even though I know that it is logically improbable and most likely completely false; I prefer the willing suspension of disbelief, even if I cannot help but want to try to line up those maps myself. I even remember hearing that there are species of plant that can only be found in both areas, validating this theory. I do know one thing for certain:
Table Mountain is a place of fairytales, and cows.
Table Mountain is just outside of Oroville, about 1.5 hours from Sacramento. On Sunday morning, we packed some lunches, kidnapped Nivek for some forced family time (you really do have to force that sort of thing nowadays), and headed there for a picnic and to fly our new kite. Unfortunately, imps stole a necessary piece to the kite while we ate, so we weren’t able to fly it; however, Kennedy did sing “goooooot tooo fiiiind the missing pieeeece” over and over again for much of the remainder of our trip, in what was most certainly an allusion to The Lord of the Rings, only further confirming my theory.
