It's Day 167...It's also 10/20/2019....And we are in Schurz Nevada

It's Day 167...It's also 10/20/2019....And we are in Schurz Nevada

So how did we get here? Well.....we woke up on October 16th to yet more rain on California's northern coast…so decided that we had taken on enough water along the coast and it was time to hang a left and trek up into the mountains in search of the sun…and more cool stuff to look at....not to mention....fewer crowds…..we had no interest in the crowds we would encounter if we got any closer to San Francisco.

And let me say....the drive through Trinity county and Six Rivers National forests...definitely does not disappoint. while watching the scenery shift from coastline to high country forests…dotted with the changing colors of fall was as picture worthy as any. Trinity county covers some 2 million acres of Northern California... and is know for it's rugged terrain, and thick forests. The Six Rivers National forest is a perfect representation of this scenery spanning 137 thousand acres of its own.

Without even realizing that as we wandered east....a sudden...and startling reality check was in store as we drove into and through Whiskeytown National Recreational center. I was unexpectedly hit with the contradiction between what I was remembering of the area....and what I was looking at.

I was remembering....the 90's....when I was on an assignment with my employer...in Redding and Chico California. New found friends and I would spend every weekend in the recreation area exploring, boating, camping....enjoying the beauty and wilderness of the area. Hours of fun on both Whiskey Town Lake....and Shasta lake. I actually learned to water ski that summer....never got very good at it....and can't remember ever trying it again.

With all those memories in my head.....what I was looking at was heart breaking. I had forgotten that just last year....the area fell victim to a wildfire....it would come to be known as the Carr Fire. A flat tire on vehicle....in which sparks from the rim hitting the asphalt....on July 23, 2018 would be the beginning of 38 days of devastation. Winds in the area would whip the flames into a wall of fire that would move with tornado like force....creating wildfire conditions that the state of California had never seen....or dealt with in it's entire history.

Every agency available including law enforcement, firefighting, FEMA, US Forest Service, and Fish And Wildlife would work together tirelessly to react to the violence and speed of the fire.....while simultaneously evacuating over 38,000 residents and visitors in the area. The fire would be contained on August 30th....but hotspots and flareups would be battled well into the fall of last year.

In the end, 8 people would loose their lives to the fire, including 3 firefighters. 1604 structures would be lost, including 1077 homes. Nearly 300 thousand acres of pristine forest would be lost to the fire....and this devastation would come at a cost of over 1.6 Billion dollars.

It's one thing to hear of this in the news....and watch coverage of it.....it's a very different thing to stand here and look at the devastation first hand.....over a year after it happened. And I can't...even for a second.....begin to imagine what it must have been like to be here...and watch it happen.

I'd spend an entire afternoon at the Whiskey Town Visitor Center relearning some of the history of the area....an area at the heart of California's Gold Rush era. I always loved how the area came to be known as Whisky Town. Local folk lore tells the story of Billie Peterson, a miner in the area......one afternoon there would be an unfortunate incident in which the pack on his mules back would break loose....sending a barrel of whiskey down a hillside....breaking on the rocks below. Watching it's contents spilling into a creek he would proclaim it...."Whiskey Creek". The small settlement that sprang up next to the creek would become known as Whiskeytown.....and it's pretty clear....the name stuck.

It was also nice to read of the significant effort, and resources being put into the rejuvenation of the area. I could already see signs of new vegetation beginning to spread across the charred remains of the original growth. The hope that future generations will have the opportunity to experience the beauty of the area as we have....is alive and well.

From Whiskeytown we drove into Shasta Lake Ca. and spent the night at a scenic overlook just below Shasta Damn. Weather has dried up dramatically from the coast providing awesome 65 degree days….but the night time temps are dropping pretty quickly as we travel higher into the Sierra-Nevada’s and further east.

The next day would bring us from Shasta Lake, across and down to Susanville California. From Susanville...we continued on down toward....and thru Reno. We would make a quick stop in Reno for gas....but made a quick escape....too much population around there for our tastes. Having not paid attention....I was surprised to learn that Nevada's biggest little city in the world....wasn't little at all anymore.....over 200 thousand people call that place home....so it was back out to the wide open spaces for us!

As we climbed into the mountains around the Washoe Valley camping opportunities were everywhere. We picked an exit…found a spot…and called it a night. Surprises came immediately as the winds picked up. It was kind of exhilarating, watching TV listening to the winds howl around outside us and whistle through the exterior fixtures on the RV. They got so loud during the night that the sounds, along with the gentle punches the RV was taking woke me up me up from time to time. We also did not expect the dramatic temperature drop through the night…woke up shivering at around 2am…by 4am the extra blanket wasn’t doing the trick so had to turn the heat on for the second time since beginning this adventure last May. By morning the temps had dropped below freezing. Thankfully the high desert sun warms things up quickly once she pops up over the mountains. The lesson here….we have fiddled around exploring up this way long enough…it’s time to stop tempting fate…and get my two little road warriors.....and myself further south. As we hopped back on Interstate 580....I noticed a gate on the freeway onramp.....it was open, of course.....but what caught my eye was the sign on the gate that read....Road Closed....High Winds. I don't think I had ever seen an onramp with a permanently installed gate on it.....which would indicate the freeway gets closed pretty often. Yep....a quick read would tell me that we had apparently just spent the night in an area that is known for high wind activity....the geography of the area is such that it essentially creates a wind tunnel through the valley....and during extreme events....roads are closed for public safety. ha....another reason I guess....to get ourselves south.

But as usual, I don’t stick with a game plan very well…our plan to head south was derailed by a simple road sign…”Lake Tahoe Next Exit”.

Haven’t been in the Tahoe area for years so “Next Exit” we did.

The scenery in the area is even more stunning than I remembered…maybe it is because this time I wasn’t in a casino the whole time I was there. And another random memory.....the last time I was here was in September of 1995. I remember it specifically ...... because of the brief encounter Mike and I (a buddy from work) would have with two of the lawyers working on the OJ Simpson trial. Mike and I were working on an acquisition in the bay area for Thorn America's.. We'd taken a 4 day weekend over the Labor day holiday for a road trip to Lake Tahoe. I'd just bought a brand new Jeep and was itchin to get it out on the highway. During an afternoon in a Casino....we walked passed a card room that had been roped off.....and a security guard posted on either side of the door. To most....that might mean....mind your business and move along....not us.....We approached one of the security guards and asked about the high stakes game taking place under guard. The security guard smiled.....nodded towards the table in the room and explained.....nothing real high stakes here.....just a couple of folks that need a little privacy. As he explained I glanced in and recognized Marcia Clarke and Chris Dardon.....apparently the State of California's prosecuting team had taken a bit of a road trip....and break themselves that labor day weekend.....and yea....they looked about the same as they did on TV.....and 24 years ago.....and still today....I do not get what all the hub bub was about that womans hair.

This visit....it appears word is out when it comes to Tahoe.....the crowds were nearly intolerable. I cannot even imagine visiting the area during the summer season…or worse yet just a few weeks down the road when ski season kicks in. We entered from the Nevada side and took The Lake Tahoe Scenic Drive. Heads up to anyone thinking about taking this breathtaking drive....it might not be for everyone if your in 55 feet worth of vehicle! The long and narrow winding road, as they say, left little room for error as we wound our way up and then back down. No chance of stopping for photos as every pull out, as well as the look out point at the top was packed with cars. At times cars would stack up pretty good behind us so I was grateful for the 10mph signs…given that was top speed at times for us on a 9% grade with hairpin turns! Managed to snap a couple photo’s but for the most part I was focused on maintaining the white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Coming back down the California side of the lake we passed through Tahoe City and Squaw Valley before coming out in Truckee.....and here would be an example of the beauty of random travel.....we could have dove a bit deeper into California before heading east.....but when I considered a stop for gas....only to read nearly 5 bucks a gallon...for gas..... it was right back into Nevada just outside Reno for us.....and a much more palatable 3 bucks a gallon for gas....nearly two bucks less than just 33 miles behind us in Truckee. Maybe next time California. Anyone else out there ever crossed the California/Nevada border 3 times in 24 hours? We had done one great big circle ending up very near where we were last night, but this time we would do a quick over night in Verdi Nevada…just a few miles outside of Reno. Plenty of spots to pull off for the night along the Truckee River. Pretty much the same on the temperature front…but winds were much calmer than the night before. Sooooo…..tomorrow we head south…..I think. But first....these names? Truckee.....Verdi?

You know I had to read about these......Truckee....there's always an interesting story.....and as I read it.....the area would originally come to be known as Gray's station....named after a roadhouse on the trans sierras wagon road in the late 1800's.

But it would be A chance encounter, several years before, between a Paiute Chief by the name Tru-ki-zo, and early European explorers that would lead to the naming and mapping of a River, and then a town. Story has it...The friendly chief would greet his tribes new visitors with the Paiute word Tro-Kay.....meaning everything's all right. The Travelers mistook this as his name....and thus....after a bit of European pronunciation was applied....the name Truckee was born.

And Verdi....an even better story.....Historically, the town was originally known as O’Neils Crossing, after the man who built a bridge there in 1860. The name “Verdi” was selected by Charles Crocker, founder of the Central Pacific Railroad, in 1868. He chose the name after pulling a slip of paper from a hat that had the name of the Italian opera composer Giuseppe Verdi on it......the towns name....literally....pulled out of a hat.

Attempting to get back to my game plan of staying off the beaten track we scurried past Reno, then Sparks looking for our escape from Interstate 80. That escape would come near Fernley Nevada in the form of Highway 95 south. Immediately I felt it…Highway 95 was the right choice.

It’s hard to explain the sense of wonderment, almost exhilaration I feel when faced with wide open spaces, and the unknown. Miles and miles of open road with only the occasional passing car. Among the few signs of civilization beyond the asphalt beneath our tires, are the power lines following alongside…blinking by….like the dotted lines blinking by on that asphalt. The occasional fence states, in no uncertain terms, that others were once here and called this place their own….but somehow desolation has reclaimed it. Then we round a bend, or crest a mountain and the blur of the open road comes into focus for just an instant…in the form of a small town. For most…it is just that, an instant…and then back to the blur of the open road. For me it’s about stopping, looking….wondering. Seeing, touching, and feeling. Then researching and reading. When I’m really lucky…asking but more importantly listening. Listening to someone living there…living it. My greatest curiosity comes from driving through towns where businesses are closed and homes are boarded up tight. What happened? In each of these locals, there was a point in time when another human being thought it worthy of putting hammer to nail, investing time, sweat, and money to build what they would call home. This was the spot in the universe that deserved their efforts. Then just as dramatically as it sprung from their efforts, it now stands alone giving way to the elements and it deserves our efforts no longer. The killing off of small town America in all the ugly truth of it. Whether that is good, bad, or just the cost of progress will be left to each of us to decide for ourselves, and for history to judge.

And that's how we found Schurz Nevada...and a girl named Sue.

A town of some 500 folks on the Paiute Nation Indian Reservation.

It was just a closed up gas station. Not unlike hundreds of other failed gas stations in small towns everywhere. What struck me was how new this failed gas station felt. Such a strange contradiction…something brand new was used up, old, and thrown away so quickly? The style of the building, how it was painted, the layout of the lot…all pointed to an establishment in its adolescence. Even the concrete walkways were still as white, crackless, and as devoid of aging as the day they were poured. Off to the left of them…alone in an open field…surrounded by sagebrush, lizards, and who knows what other critters…were two, not so very old wooden structures, sitting on newly poured foundations, left to the elements to decay right along with their neighbor the gas station. Just beyond them a smaller gas station…but this one still pumping gas and selling soda’s….somehow managing to stay alive… generating life from the handful of us that actually stop in as we drive by each day.

I pulled into the recently deceased gas station and looked around at the details. From the dismantled fuel pumps, the wires of technological wizardry hanging out to crack and decay in the desert sun, to the speaker wires hanging from what used to be call buttons and the bland colors of the desert fauna growing up through areas that were previously planted so carefully with manicured barberry and Joseph pine…now dying off while the deciduous yellow flowered sagebrush reclaim their desert. The irrigation system so thoughtfully installed, now permanently dismantled. The shattered windows and all the other signs of human abuse that so often occurs when a building is left standing unprotected, unoccupied, and without the watchful eye the hustle and bustle of business would provide. As I followed the arrow on the fading sign pointing to “RV Parking”, and pulled onto a perfectly level asphalt parking area with weeds now growing through the seams…I parked, got out and walked around…looking…studying…wondering. Circling the building I came back around to where we had parked I decided…this is where we will stay today.

A few minutes later we were leveled up, windows open letting the cool afternoon air sweep from the desert floor up through our space. The boys had been out and done some exploring with me. I grabbed a bottle of water and set out across the field to have a closer look at those other two structures…and beyond them to that still alive gas station to see what I could learn about what so recently was…but is no more.

Entering the gas station I was greeted by a young woman....wearing a nametag that read....Sue

Sue: Hi…how are you today?

Me: Great thanks…how are you?

Sue: Doing well thanks

Me: Pretty quiet out here…where am I exactly?

Sue: Your in Schurz

Me: Ah…things pretty slow out this way? Was curious about those two buildings out in the field next to you…they look like they were all set up, ready for something…then…?

Sue: Yea…the Army base up the road sold those to the Paiute for a dollar each. All we had to do was have them moved here. Was gonna turn one into a jewelry store…never really decided what the second would be.

Me: Oh…I’m on a reservation?

Sue: Yep, Paiute Nation....Sue said proudly.....I suddenly realized Sue was likely Paiute herself.

Me: Very cool! So what happened to the jewelry store?

Sue: Ahh..dunno really…she pondered.....it just never happened I guess

Me: That’s to bad. Sounds like it would be cool. What about that gas station/truck stop next to it?

Sue: Ah that…that was bad management.

Me: Bad Management?

Sue: Yea…they built it with a flat roof and when the rains came the walls filled up with water…ruined it

Me: Really? thats sad. They just decided not to fix it? It looks so new?

Sue: Yea…bad management

As another customer came to the counter I could tell our conversation was ending, so I scooped up my snacks and a fresh bottle of water bidding Sue farwell.....and asking.....ok if we hang out over there for a night or two......no problem....Sue waved...... and I headed back out across the field....and past that almost jewelry store.

Walking back across the open field, past the two abandoned brown buildings, and watching the occasional tiny lizard dart from underneath one clump of desert weed to another I wondered…

There is certainly more to this story…maybe more than Sue knows anyways. Irrespective of the details I am struck by the disposable nature of it all. First the Army builds and uses (one would assume for a little while anyways) a couple of buildings then sells them for a dollar each as a form of disposal. Appears they had at least tried to re-purpose them…but that new purpose has not yet been found and by the looks of things most likely wont…another few years alone on the desert and they will succumb to the same fate a hundred other buildings I’ve seen in the last few months. Something built…then thrown away. Disposable.

Next, hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent, and materials used, to build this this fledgling fuel station…and whatever the real series of events were…the fact is that within just a matter of month, it went from being built…to standing alone in the desert of Nevada, on top of the 80,000 gallon fuel tanks buried below…becoming a part of the useless footprint of man in the middle of a Nevada desert. Disposable.

A curious lot for sure....... we humans are.

A sherrif would pull in and circle the lot as Dougie and I were out for our last walk that evening. Stopped and asked us if everything was ok....Pretty awesome actually.....just gonna grab some shut eye here and head out in the morning if that was ok. No problem he said......just watch your little guy there......he smiled looking down at Dougie.....there's lots of broken glass and stuff around here. Will do....thanks! I nodded......

I shut off the gernator and tv as dark fell and temperatures dropped.....The three of us curled up on the bed and called it a night....

Drifted off to sleep thinking about tomorrows drive south.....

And wondering what we'll learn there.......