We were wide awake at 5:00, with absolutely nothing to do except stare at the clock and wonder how we were going to fill the next hour. Since the complimentary breakfast didn’t open until 6:00, we decided to put the time to good use. We packed up our suitcases, loaded everything into the car, and still managed to be third in line when the breakfast bar finally opened.
For a change, the breakfast spread was actually impressive, which we figured might have something to do with this being a brand-new facility. Feeling adventurous, we both chose what was generously masquerading as scrambled eggs and split an orange juice between us. Not exactly a gourmet breakfast, but at that hour, it certainly did the job!
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when we headed out for our next overnight stop in Carson City, Nevada. The first couple of hours looked pretty much like yesterday—miles and miles of what appeared to be empty space.
Of course, it really isn’t empty. There’s plenty of stuff out there; it’s just that most of it isn’t particularly interesting. What did catch our attention, though, was the surprising number of old, weather-beaten homes scattered across the landscape. And, almost without exception, they seemed to have at least one satellite dish perched somewhere nearby, as if even the most rundown homestead had to have access to the outside world.
It was a landscape with plenty to see, just not necessarily anything you’d put on a postcard.
After several hours, the scenery suddenly did a quick 180 and, almost as if someone had flipped a switch, mountains appeared on the horizon. Before long, trees began popping up, too. What a relief! Apparently, neither mountains nor trees had disappeared from the face of the earth after all.
As we continued climbing, the elevation steadily increased. The road seemed to be taking us higher and higher until we finally topped out at just over 8,100 feet. After all those miles of open, scrubby landscape, the mountains and trees were a very welcome change of scenery.
At some point, I stopped admiring the scenery and decided to take a look at the miles left until empty. The number staring back at me was 64. That got our attention
After some discussion, we settled on a Shell station at the June Lake Loop. The price was a breathtaking $7.099 a gallon. I bought four gallons, which, in the Honda Hybrid, should give us roughly 194 miles—more than enough to get us into Nevada and safely to a proper fill-up.
June Lake holds a few memories for me. These days, it’s a built-up recreation area, complete with designated campsites and even a grocery store. But back in the late 1950s—very late, mind you—a high school friend and I used to head up there to fish. In those days, there were little more than dirt roads and the wonderfully simple camping rule of: find a spot you like and camp there.
It’s hard to reconcile that memory with the June Lake we see today. What was once a quiet, rough-around-the-edges fishing and camping spot has grown into a full-fledged recreation destination. Progress, I suppose—but I have to admit, there was something pretty special about those dirt roads and picking your own campsite.
The rest of the drive into Carson City was uneventful, except, of course, for the traffic. Starting in Gardnerville, traffic suddenly turned into full-blown rush hour—except nobody had apparently told the clock. It was just a little after high noon, but judging by the number of cars on the road, you’d think everyone had just gotten off work and was racing home for dinner.
Earlier, we had entered the address of the local Honda dealer, so when we arrived, I spent a few minutes explaining to several service reps what had happened the day before. They were baffled by the loss of electric steering and puzzled by the pumpkin-colored instrument cluster.
After considerable discussion, the jury retired briefly and returned with its verdict: they had never seen anything like it, had no idea what had happened, and therefore could not recommend anything other than continuing to drive it.
They did wish us luck, which was appreciated. It was also about as reassuring as being told by your doctor, “Well, this is interesting.” Neither of us was feeling particularly confident about the rest of the trip, but we will continue on.
Since we were a little early to check in, I decided it was time to make my usual $20 donation to a casino. After reviewing a number of slot machines, we walked past one that seemed to speak to me in a low, rather sexy voice: “Try me.”
So I did.
The machine had a Chinese flavor, featuring a Chinese woman throwing dumplings. I had no idea what was going on, but apparently neither did I need to. I slipped in a $20, then made three plays at 80 cents each—and suddenly the bells rang, the lights flashed, and the machine began telling me to “press button” over and over and over.
For the next ten minutes, I obediently pressed the button while the machine continued doing whatever it was doing. I had no idea what the woman, the dumplings, or the buttons had to do with winning money, but I was willing to remain uninformed. Eventually, I ran out of free button pushes and discovered that my $2.40 investment had turned into $132.92.
At this point, I felt it was best not to tempt fate or give the casino a chance to reconsider its mistake.
Did I cash out immediately?
Oh yes, I did.
We decided to try to stay on the healthy side for dinner, so it was off to Olive Garden for soup, salad, and breadsticks. The dinner was very good and just what we needed.
Our waitress was excellent, with a sharp and funny sense of humor. She was also very helpful when I managed to spill some of my soup, apparently in an attempt to make dinner more memorable. She quickly arrived with a handful of napkins, some ice for my thumb, and a fresh bowl of soup. I had managed to turn a simple bowl of soup into a minor medical and housekeeping incident, and she handled it all without missing a beat. She definitely earned a generous tip.
Tomorrow we’re off to Grants Pass, back in our old home state of Oregon. Part of the drive will take us along the backroads, so we’re looking forward to a little adventure. After the events of the last couple of days, “backroads adventure” may be an interesting choice of words, but it should be fun.
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