Only just, though. Nevada is about, erm, 30 yards away and we have to head back that way tomorrow!
We've had a day of massive contrasts, where we have covered the remainder of The Loneliest Highway and we have now returned to civilisation. And traffic. We haven't had a traffic jam, or even a queue, since Cincinatti.
So, our day began in Eureka, Nevada. After a rest day yesterday, we set off early across the biggest expanse of wilderness of our entire trip.
We crossed mountain range after mountain range. Initially the landscape between Eureka and the next town, Austin, was desert scrub. Very arid soil conditions limiting the variation in plants and trees.
We made several stops along the way, to check out the Pony Express trail, at Cold Springs, as well as more petroglyphs- despite the disastrous consequences last time!
The pony express station was an interesting stop. The pony express is such a legendary image, with the young rider galloping at full speed across the desert, coat flapping behind him. In truth, the service only ran for a very short period of time, due to the introduction of the transcontinental telegraph service and the completion of the railway.
The pony express could deliver documents over 2000 miles within 10 days. It could not compete with the telegraph line, which could do it in 10 seconds. Within 4 days of the telegraph service opening, the pony express went bust.
Despite its short lived existence, it is an iconic image of the old west and it was atmospheric to stand on the spot where the station master would wait for the young rider to appear, always fearful of Indian attack. At this particular station, the keeper had been killed by an Indian raid.
Now there is only the ruins of the pony express station, alongside the ruins of the telegraph station which brought about its demise.
We pressed on to Austin, which is a small town nowadays. It had once been the second biggest town in Nevada at the height of the gold rush, but the mine had soon run dry and closed.
There is now little other than a couple of motels and diners, as well as some quirky galleries.
After we left Austin, there was the longest stretch of emptiness, towards the larger town of Fallon. Around 110 miles, punctuated only by a site of more indian petroglyphs and the famous shoe tree.
The petroglyphs were fascinating, including rock indentations which are thought to date back 7000 years.
The shoe tree was a different kettle of fish entirely. Thought to have begun when the first pair was thrown up onto the tree by a couple during a wedding night argument, followed later by their children's shoes, more people added their own footwear.
The original tree was cut down by vandals in 2011, but a nearby 'sister' tree has taken on the role. To be honest, we felt a bit uneasy there. A feeling only surpassed on this trip by our visit to Big John's Bar in Missouri!
We moved on. The landscape turned to desert, charged by the distant smoke from forest fires, before we arrived in Fallon.
From then on, the loneliest highway became regularly puncuated by small towns, all the way to Dayton- claim to fame is that Arthur Miller and Marylin Monroe used to frequent one of the bars whilst filming The Misfits there.
After Dayton, things became more built up and we soon arrived in Carson a City, from where a short hop over the mountains brought us to the stunning shores of Lake Tahoe.
It was amazing after days of plains and deserts to be suddenly sitting on the beach of South Lake Tahoe, with the deep blue water lapping at our feet, and flocks of Canada geese gathering in the skies above.
And a very insistent duck standing in front of us, trying to stare us out.
Disconcertingly, we are staying a couple of hundred yards from the lake shore, in a pine forest, populated by bears.
We made our way to the town through the dark forest like a complete pair of wimps, both leaping in the air when a dog barked from a nearby garden.
But, I'm pleased to say we survived the bear territory. For now. Tomorrow, will be far, far worse...
And I'm more pleased to say that we survived the loneliest highway! Tomorrow, we bid farewell to Highway 50 and head down the 395 to Yosemite.
And more bears.
The waitress at the pizza restaurant tonight said that we shouldn't worry about the Bears, as they are really quite nice. Armed with that thought, plus the fact that I reckon I can beat big Col over the first 100 meters, I have become relaxed.
So our journey is almost over. 2 more days before we cross the finish line at the Golden Gate Bridge.
We're beginning to reflect on our journey and what we have experienced. We have seen America from all sorts of perspectives. From standing by the Washington Monument in DC as President Obama flew a few feet over our heads, to the many, many small and insular communities through which we have passed. We've been able to scratch beneath the surface in towns which, at first glance, appeared to be completely quiet.
We've had a tour of the seat of government at Capitol Hill, we've learnt about small communities harbouring racism which seemed alien to us, we've learnt about areas where there is a fear over water levels, where farmers are having to drill deeper and deeper on their land for water. We've stood on the continental divide at the summit of the Monarch Pass in Colorado, where one side's water flows to the Atlantic and the other to the Pacific. We've constantly met people who want to embark on a journey in the same spirit as our own, whether it be within America or in Europe. We've learnt more about how people and communities resolve issues surrounding the history of the USA, communities which are still affected by the Civil War, communities which are affected by the Indian Wars. (We even came across General Custer's jacket, below).
We have deliberately avoided the bright lights and big cities. We have constantly been asked, when we have said we are travelling across America, why have you ended up here, in this basement bar?
But we have also been thanked for taking the time to visit their communities.
We've been surprised, entertained, cajoled, encouraged, educated, dismayed, amazed and amused.
Maya Angelou the African American poet and civil rights activist, said, "Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples laugh, eat, worry and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends."
See you in Yosemite. :0)
No comments:
Post a Comment