Day Eighty Four: A Boost Thru the Desert
Distance: 48 mi
Song of the Day: Dionne Warwick — Do You Know the Way to San Jose
7AM: Sun melts into the slab of desert stone underneath our sleep pads, heating the ground and air surprisingly quickly. Once packed we loiter outside the main station, slow absorptions of coffee and oatmeal. No reason to rush today, we’ve arranged for my uncle Steve to haul us via car from east Fallon into Reno, where we’ll take a rest day before the final push to California:
Today’s route drops another 1000 feet past a perplexing assortment of salt flats interrupted by a sand mountain spanning over two miles, apparently deposited by the ancient lake Lahontan, which dried up 9,000 years ago.
Passing the sand mountain conjures up images of a Mad Max universe, as Route 50 snakes around to reveal the sand peaks I badly want to stop; but it’s miles off the road and I don’t think Steve had it in his day planner to wander up thousands of feet of sand dunes to find Liz and I.
Edge off the salt flats, returned to ‘normal’ desert; spot Steve in his dark green ford explorer a few miles further, at least I think it’s him, don’t know for certain until I break and look back to see him u-turn beside to Lizzie.
Shave bikes of bags and panniers, drop our front wheels and angle bikes into the family-sized car’s interior, suffer a few clang and scratches but we get the job done. Point the Explorer in the direction of Reno and Steve hits the gas.
Steve takes an early exit and shuttles us through downtown Reno, marking the ring road and the area where his favorite casino can be found, then climbs up a skyline drive to his condominium. Open door and face the living room, plump cat Carlie stares blankly for a few moments then skitters away (rather slowly.) Cats — a clean bed — a bathtub — food, even some molasses cookies my mother baked and sent to Steve in advance of our arrival. Liz and I smile and look at one another: yeah, this’ll do!
Rest Day in Reno
Wake well into the morning, having ‘partied’ with Steve by watching How To Train Your Dragon, Part Two. “These are often better than the crap they’re putting out for adults”, Steve had remarked.
Spend the morning reconnecting with my uncle. I last saw Steve when he resided with my parents for a few months last year after my aunt Nancy passed on from her grievous battle with pancreatic cancer. Nancy had been posted at a Hospice house in Concord, New Hampshire; Steve spent countless long hours reading beside her, keeping her company until life left her. Steve has preserved Nancy’s touches on the Reno home: a framed photograph; a print of a modern work of Japanese art; her mother’s hand-quilted black swan — the white swam counterpart hangs in my mother’s house adjacent a fireplace. “When the sun cools off we sit on the patio with the cats and watch the hills and the city lights. Yep, that’s how we do things out here,” Steve tells me.
