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Canyon: The Story Of The Last Rustic Community In Metropolitan America
The tale of Canyon, California is the story of one small community and its effort to exist in the midst of urban sprawl. It is a spot of near-wilderness and deliberate inaccessibility- a short distance from San Francisco in the hills beyond Berkeley. Canyon's residents are unconventional and of varied ages and backgrounds. If the hassles and troubles of Canyon do not hold a final answer for all of us, we can be sure its story has raised some needed questions.
170 pages, Hardcover
First published August 12, 1972
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
August 10, 2015
This morning, we helped make wine in Canyon. Yes, this Canyon.
The scene contained all of the elements of the store reconstruction: the barn-raising-like coming together that takes all comers, the sense that though some people decidedly knew more about this process, nobody was really running the event. There was not quite the urgency, however, of rebuilding something before some authority figure can tell you to stop.
When we arrived, someone passed us a glass of grape juice, ladeled right from the vat. It was sweet, almost too sweet, but exceptional.
I self-selected my job: scooping grapes out of the pickup-wide, square bins full of a varietal you can identify with a number, into buckets. Buckets that, right from the truck bed, are emptied into the crusher. This device separates the grapes from their vines without pulverizing the seed, which would make the wine bitter. From there, though not today, these grapes and all their runoff will go into a giant wooden vat. First to be de-yeasted, then later yeasted again.
"Mama," my daughter says from ground-level, inappropriately dressed in tulle. "Can I go see the kitty?"
"OK," I say, wondering only after she takes off down a path at a run, along with four or five other kids, where, exactly, this kitty might be.
Then I return to scooping.
My daughter is one of the kids who comes into this tiny what?--enclave?--every weekday to attend Canyon School. For Morning Walks through the community four days a week and an incredible curriculum that includes art and music and theater, monthly field trips, and yearly camping trips. We are here on a Sunday by invitation. Here in 2014, this former New Yorker has become one of the starry-eyed newcomers referred to in this book.
If older and more weathered, and really only daytripping.
But shhh: this place is alive! Hallelujah!
The scene contained all of the elements of the store reconstruction: the barn-raising-like coming together that takes all comers, the sense that though some people decidedly knew more about this process, nobody was really running the event. There was not quite the urgency, however, of rebuilding something before some authority figure can tell you to stop.
When we arrived, someone passed us a glass of grape juice, ladeled right from the vat. It was sweet, almost too sweet, but exceptional.
I self-selected my job: scooping grapes out of the pickup-wide, square bins full of a varietal you can identify with a number, into buckets. Buckets that, right from the truck bed, are emptied into the crusher. This device separates the grapes from their vines without pulverizing the seed, which would make the wine bitter. From there, though not today, these grapes and all their runoff will go into a giant wooden vat. First to be de-yeasted, then later yeasted again.
"Mama," my daughter says from ground-level, inappropriately dressed in tulle. "Can I go see the kitty?"
"OK," I say, wondering only after she takes off down a path at a run, along with four or five other kids, where, exactly, this kitty might be.
Then I return to scooping.
My daughter is one of the kids who comes into this tiny what?--enclave?--every weekday to attend Canyon School. For Morning Walks through the community four days a week and an incredible curriculum that includes art and music and theater, monthly field trips, and yearly camping trips. We are here on a Sunday by invitation. Here in 2014, this former New Yorker has become one of the starry-eyed newcomers referred to in this book.
If older and more weathered, and really only daytripping.
But shhh: this place is alive! Hallelujah!
November 27, 2016
A friend of mine who just moved to Canyon gave me this book. Originally written in 1972, it details the establishment of the incorporated East Bay town of Canyon.
An interesting read for Bay Area history buffs or anyone interested in alternative communities. It's a little long-winded about conflicts with the water company, but still not a bad read.
An interesting read for Bay Area history buffs or anyone interested in alternative communities. It's a little long-winded about conflicts with the water company, but still not a bad read.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews