HIGHWAY 49 IN the Sierra Nevada foothills is gold country, running north of Jackson straight through the Mother Lode. It's also biker country, wine country, and – when it hits Poor Red's Bar-B-Q in El Dorado – ribs country. But while a massive half rack of Poor Red's barbecued ribs should be, at $11 a pop, enough to justify the two-and-a-half-hour drive east from San Francisco, the bar is even more famous for its house drink, the Golden Cadillac, invented there more than 50 years ago.

Although a befitting name for a gold country cocktail, Golden Cadillac doesn't actually refer to the precious metal in them thar hills. Onetime bartender Frank Klein named the drink (an icy blend of Galliano, crème de cacao, and cream) after the car he bought the day he invented it. Half a century later, one little bar in one little blink-and-you'll-miss-it town in the Sierra foothills consumes more Galliano than anywhere else in the world. On a record night, the bartenders emptied 87 bottles of Galliano – more than a thousand Golden Cadillacs.

Poor Red's (6221 Pleasant Valley Road, 530-622-2901) is one of several gold country bars worth driving east for if you're interested in a evening or two of shit-kickin', beer-drinkin', foothill fun. If you can't rationalize crossing the Delta for a night on the sauce, tell yourself you'll take in a little state history along the way. The bars on Highway 49 are some of the oldest in California, and you can absorb a little gold country architecture and ambience along with your beer.

Fourteen miles south of Poor Red's, Sutter Creek is "the jewel of the Mother Lode," its high sidewalks lined with old wooden buildings housing country-cute boutiques and down-home stores. It's definitely quaint – too quaint perhaps. But when darkness falls, the coolest building on the strip comes to life behind the beacon of Bellotti Bar's neon marquee (53 Main, Sutter Creek, 209-267-5211). The building itself was constructed in 1858 as the American Exchange hotel, a name its new owners will resurrect when they reopen the hotel this year. Beneath the marquee, the double wooden doors to Bellotti have been swinging since 1937, opening into an old-time saloon where, on Saturday nights when the live band kicks in, the friendly crowd makes it hard to leave without dancing and you're guaranteed a good time.

If you really want to tie one on, you'll be in good company at the National (2 Water, 209-223-0500), six miles south in Jackson. Located at one end of Main Street in the National Hotel, it's usually identifiable by the folks on the porch taking a smoke break beneath the stained-glass windows. Rebuilt shortly after it was destroyed in Jackson's Great Fire of 1862, the National has taken on the years like a character in a Tom Waits song. The back bar was built in 1862, and original kerosene chandeliers still dangle from the ceiling. The wooden floor is cleared for weekend bands, and on a good night it bounces beneath the foot-stomping. Period-style hotel rooms upstairs will make you feel like you're falling asleep in a western, if you can do so amid the weekend clamor downstairs.

About 12 miles east of Jackson, in the miniature town of Volcano, stands the finest gold country watering hole of them all: the Whiskey Flat Saloon (Thurs.-Sat. only, Main Street near National Street, 209-296-4458). Better known as the St. George (after the hotel it's attached to), the saloon is the coziest one around. Sidling across the wooden floor to the bar is like oozing into the warmth of an old home. Faded newspaper headlines about erupting volcanoes adorn the back bar, dollar bills are tacked to the walls, and dusty bric-a-brac – from shark jaws to chain saws – hangs over the bar. Step outside for a smoke, and the parked cars along the empty road are your only anchor to the 21st century. After a few drinks you could easily convince yourself that Warren Beatty's going to step from the shadows in a bowler and a bearskin jacket.

It took me two nights to hit those bars, along with a fifth, the Nashville Bar and Grill (Thurs.-Sat. only, 7909 Hwy. 49, 530-620-5585) in Nashville, eight miles south of El Dorado. While the Nashville doesn't seep history like the others, it's worth popping into if only so you can say you went to Nashville for a beer. Maybe sing a little karaoke too. The best part, perhaps, is the feeling of stepping from the darkness of nowhere – and Nashville is definitely in the middle of nowhere – into the warmth of a friendly pub. It's almost as strange as stepping out when you're done. The silence can be shocking.

If you go

Volcano's historic St. George Hotel and Restaurant is tough to beat. Double-occupancy rates are $88 to $105. Main Street near National Street, Volcano. 209-296-4458.