Woke up just before 5:00 AM. My first thought was "I needs me some casino", but then the idea of finally leaving Nevada a winner took over.
After the usual morning stuff, we loaded up the car and started the next adventure. For some unknown reason, the stars aligned, and our first three stops before reaching the Interstate were all on the same street, within just a few blocks of each other. How this happens, I don’t know—but I’m certainly not complaining!
Before going any further, I want to compliment last night’s hotel as being an over-the-top electronic support facility. There were three charging stations similar to this one in the room.
Our first stop was the Cracker Box, an old-time diner with plenty of charm and a great breakfast. The Cracker Box has actually been our go-to breakfast spot in Carson City for years, and I’m sure it will remain so for as long as our travels take us that way. We highly recommend it.
And I have to mention their breakfast potatoes. They are, hands down, the best I’ve ever had. I don’t know what they do to those potatoes, but whatever it is, they’ve got it figured out. Some things are worth making a detour for—and apparently, this morning, we didn’t even have to!
With breakfast taken care of and our appetites happily satisfied, it was time to get back on the road. Our second stop was Fred Meyer for gas—think Kroger if you’re not from Oregon. The best part was that it was almost directly across the street from the Cracker Box, so we didn’t have to go far at all. The stars were definitely still working in our favor.
I filled up and got 30¢ a gallon off, which was a nice little bonus. Apparently, I’ll get 40¢ off next time. At this rate, those fuel rewards are starting to feel almost as good as a slot machine—except this one actually pays me back.
Once the car was fueled, it was time to fuel the two of us, which meant a mocha from Starbucks. Fortunately, that was just a few blocks away, so our streak of conveniently located stops continued.
With breakfast, gas, and coffee behind us, we had everything we needed for the road ahead. All that was left was to find the interstate and head north. Three stops, all within a few blocks, and not one wasted mile. I’d say the stars were definitely on our side that morning.
The first part of the day’s drive from Carson City to Reno is a real pleasure. It’s a great divided interstate, complete with truck lanes and speed limits up to 70 MPH. It’s an easy, comfortable stretch of highway and a nice way to start the day’s drive
Once we reached Reno, we ran into the usual morning go-to-work traffic. It always makes me wonder how many people left home just a little later than they intended. In any case, the pace slowed down considerably, as it tends to do when everyone seems to have the same destination at the same time.
The drive to Susanville was pretty uneventful, with one minor exception: somehow, we completely missed a rest area we’ve been stopping at for years. Forgetful? Getting old? I’ll let you decide. Apparently, even familiar places can sneak right past us.
But the drive from Susanville to Mt. Shasta turned out to be one of the best stretches of the trip so far. The mountains rose around us, the Ponderosa pines stretched along the road, and above it all was a deep blue sky without a cloud in sight. Best of all, there was hardly any traffic. In nearly two hours, I passed only two cars. With scenery like that and an open road ahead, it was hard to imagine a better way to spend a couple of hours behind the wheel.
A short stretch of construction near the end slowed things down a bit, but even that couldn’t take much away from what was otherwise a beautiful and thoroughly enjoyable drive.
Once we were back in civilization and had merged onto Interstate 5, the world changed color. The green of the mountains and forests was behind us, replaced by a vast palette of browns. California is called the Golden State, but golden seemed too generous a word for what lay before us. I know tan when I see it, and this was tan.
Crossing the Siskiyou Mountains into Oregon, the landscape began to change. Tan gave way to green, tall pines lined the road, and, best of all, there was water. Rivers and creeks flowed through the landscape as Mother Earth intended. After the parched country we had left behind, the sight of flowing water was welcome.
From there, the drive became easy and familiar. We traveled roads we had known before, watching the Oregon landscape unfold as we settled into the rhythm of a journey nearing its end. By early afternoon, we reached Grants Pass, but with time to spare before check-in, we decided to visit a do-it-yourself car wash and remove more than 1,000 miles of bugs from Hamish—that’s the Honda’s name. With the car looking respectable again, we turned to the more important question of where to have dinner.
After much back and forth, the Happy Clam won out, and what a good choice it was. Barb opted for fish and chips, which she declared excellent, while I chose a basket of fried oysters and beer-battered prawns. They were also excellent, as was the dark beer whose name I never did catch.
Tomorrow we are off for a two-night stay in Lake Oswego, Oregon. There we will visit with two sons and probably do a little housekeeping.
































