I loved that final line; "like special gifts, wrapped up and hidden in the crook of a tree up a long trail." That's exactly what a road trip feels like. We dosing against the monotonous scenery, and then a surprise: an old barn with a story, a line of clothes on the line, maybe, in the Great Basin, a herd of wild horses on one side and a herd a antelope on the other, both grazing in belly-deep grass.
Thank you, Paul and Tonya, for this visit to Wendover. A strange town indeed. Spangled casinos rising from the desert floor - so out of place among the shabby motels and bedraggled stores or cafes. Then there's a suburban wannabe on the west end with neat houses and gardens, tiny squares of grass. On the east side is the community center with a large auditorium and a tiny restroom without a diaper changing table. How in hell does that happen in a place with so many Mormons?
Thanks, Sue! I was telling Tonya not too long ago that you were the only person I knew who had an encyclopedic knowledge of Nevada. I think we had passed someplace like Beowawe and recalled you had mentioned it - to whatever place we were passing at that moment. I love your stories and details from the Silver State.
Hardly encyclopedic, but I appreciate your faith. My daughter knows the state, at least the northern counties, a lot more than I do because she works as a Behavioral Health Coordinator with all the police and medical folks. She also did a two-month internship in Elko a few years ago, so she knows where a lot of the bodies are buried.
I loved that final line; "like special gifts, wrapped up and hidden in the crook of a tree up a long trail." That's exactly what a road trip feels like. We dosing against the monotonous scenery, and then a surprise: an old barn with a story, a line of clothes on the line, maybe, in the Great Basin, a herd of wild horses on one side and a herd a antelope on the other, both grazing in belly-deep grass.
Thank you, Paul and Tonya, for this visit to Wendover. A strange town indeed. Spangled casinos rising from the desert floor - so out of place among the shabby motels and bedraggled stores or cafes. Then there's a suburban wannabe on the west end with neat houses and gardens, tiny squares of grass. On the east side is the community center with a large auditorium and a tiny restroom without a diaper changing table. How in hell does that happen in a place with so many Mormons?
Thanks, Sue! I was telling Tonya not too long ago that you were the only person I knew who had an encyclopedic knowledge of Nevada. I think we had passed someplace like Beowawe and recalled you had mentioned it - to whatever place we were passing at that moment. I love your stories and details from the Silver State.
Hardly encyclopedic, but I appreciate your faith. My daughter knows the state, at least the northern counties, a lot more than I do because she works as a Behavioral Health Coordinator with all the police and medical folks. She also did a two-month internship in Elko a few years ago, so she knows where a lot of the bodies are buried.
"we ate like feral javelinas" - maybe one of the best sentences EVER!
Thanks, Tabby!!!! I just realized that all javelinas are feral, but I'm going to forget that I just said that.
Great piece Paul, I loved it.
Thank you so much, Kirk! It means everything when people actually read something and comment on it. Much appreciated.
Superb, warm piece! A lovely slice of road trip rapture.
Thanks, El!!!
The bottom of the ocean indeed. Lived and died, lived and died...
I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Your style and attention to detail is what I always look forward to.
Thanks, Jim. I feel the same way about your writing. I hope to swing by at some point this winter.
Love of the desert runs deep in my family. You put your cursor on why.
Thank you, Fran.
Thank you so much, Oscar. That means a lot to me. I'm trying to be in the moment.