The Last 800 Miles

From Flagstaff, Arizona we make a slight detour north to see “the strip” in Las Vegas, Nevada.

strip1I hope this stuff looks less goofy all lit up at night.

strip2

I couldn't resist!

I couldn’t resist!

 

The journey from Vegas to Reno is…eerie.  We pass miles of land littered with U.S. Government restricted access signs in varying degrees of unfriendliness.  Just as the sun starts to set, a heavy, solemn cloud starts smothering the mountains, diffusing light in patches.

Sm_SAM_4049

Sm_SAM_4055The ethereal show adds to the Mystery of Nevada.

It’s getting quite late, and we’re dog tired.  Looking for a hotel is hard work – we stop in a tiny town and all of the motels are booked.  There’s a big job or something nearby, and seasonal workers have swarmed in.

Then, suddenly, we’re in Death Valley!

I'll bet there are some great stories in that bar.

I’ll bet there are some great stories in that bar.

The next day, a freak snowstorm makes the passage to Reno precarious, but lovely.

8am, snow on the desert road to Reno...there's a haiku in there somewhere

8am, snow on the desert road to Reno…there’s a haiku in there somewhere

We drop in on my cousins in Reno, who kindly show us the big city lights. Just a few hours later the next day, we are pulling into Palo Alto, California – our destination.

Horatio sighs as Sal switches off the ignition.  It’s time for a rest, for all three of us road warriors.

 

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