It’s exactly as it always is.


Long and marginally pretty drive.


First farm is nice, you can buy overpriced garbage.


Second farm…pretty much the same as the first.


Third farm and you feel the sense of dread


Fourth farm and you are sick on apple based foods


Fifth farm, you’re kinda angry and regret coming.


Sixth farm, you decide to leave, but the driver if your group is suddenly having a blast and refused to do so. You feel true apathy and consider buying a $45 wind chime made out of coke cans, just to feel something, anything. You don’t want it and walk away, but the sound of the wind jostling the aluminum is inside your head now.


Seventh farm, you notice your new coke can wind chime is tangled and you give up. This trip will never end. Hell is not fire and brimstone. Hell is endless nearly identical apple orchards.

Finally you get to leave, even the gridlocked traffic getting back to the freeway is better than being at Apple Hill. The drive back is less pretty…tainted


You promise yourself you’ll never go again…but that’s a lie, it’s always a lie. Because you never leave Apple Hill. It’s always there, lurking, waiting, watching.

– /u/thematgreen via /r/Sacramento