6/17/10 0640 Elko NV.
Hugely bright desert sun washing all over the window of this meat and potatoes motel. Actually, I managed to buy some TVP nuggets rather than chicken nuggets at the Albertsons where we shopped for our TV dinner. TVP is 'textured vegetable protein', which was developed about 40 years ago...its the basis of a lot of inexpensive veggie dinners, and can be organic, too. Caveat Emptor.
Elko is where you stay if you want to avoid Wells, an hours drive to the East on I 80. Yes, you do want to avoid Wells, although our gasoline stop yesterday afternoon actually now holds the prize for Epitimization of the term 'Godforsaken'. Avala, as its actually called on the sign, was so windy that Fuji refused to walk back to the car against it. Sala wondered where the young woman who sold her the Dove ice cream bar might live. We decided it was probably in the Western section of Godforsaken. Huge wind, cold, high desert and the implacable interstate going by at 75 mph.
Elko has a lot more than that. Founded in 1868, it was the western end of the railroad for a while, and now is the county seat, hope to miners and mine owners. 80 percent listed 'white' on their census forms, and about 20% listed Latino, leaving little room for anyone else...Black and NA are down in the 1-2%. Yes I know it doesnt add up, I am just reporting what I read.
Home to the Cowboy Poet Annual. Huge green watered lawns around the Convention Center and municipal playing fields. Lots of dog friendly motels to choose from.
We came down the West Fork of the Walker River after lifting up out of the Mono Basin yesterday morning. The river is greyish yellow with sediment, but all white on top from its rapid passage. It rages right along, and the information sign in the day use area quotes a Major Patten who recommended that no emigrants should use this route...'strewn with bones and broken wagons'. Now, of course, we zip through in a matter of minutes. Then it took months. We think of getting wagons over the alluvial boulder field that lies along the busy little river, the days when dough twisted on sticks or barley soup with a soupstone for flavor were all you ate. And the blue sky and brilliant sun...well, you've seen Sheltering Sky probably...
Yes, and we came back to civilization in the form of Carson City NV, and stopped at a store called A to Zen, but the stock wasnt as good as the name. We intend to continue the policy of at least one such stop a day. And at least one really good ball tossing running jumping Fuji stop.
Between such times, the high desert rolled by. Some salt pans, and Bonneville ahead today. Folorn wind banged sun scoured human habitation remains, and the ongoing pointiliste landscape of aromatics flowing by. At any stop, no matter how apparently godforsaken, if you crush a bit of green, you get a sudden flood of smelling that brings back all of the ceremonies, all of the sleeping bags laid on the sand, all of the big star nights of all of the desert camping of the past...and hopefully the future.
A restless night..maybe altitude, or lack of exercise. My knee doesnt want to run, and no bicycle to exercise with. Maybe more walking today.
Speaking of that, its on to Wyoming, Jackson Hole and the Natural History Museum, or perhaps Yellowstone and Old Faithful.
muchos besos
alan
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