only getting out between downpours, which gives an inaccurate impression as to

how things really were, as they really were really wet.  Fortunately it was sunny first thing on many mornings, so we could at least get the dogs out,

even if most days remained interior

…with brief forays for occasional supplies without the ’45, which remained under wraps,

as the storms passed through and through, sending lots of flotsam down.

 

…laundry, groceries, packing, loading.  A last bike and wondering if the now gloating multitudes spent the last eight years feeling the same visceral revulsion as I do now whenever their Chosen One materializes blathering bullshit on National Media.  Probably; after all, given the demographic, nothing could have been more offensive than a calm, rational, articulate…Negro…telling them what’s good for them. Even, or especially, if it would have been.

So I left; over the hill, moved by Jerry Brown’s State of the State/Disaster of the Union speech

while overtaking several convoys of military tractor-trailer rigs moving containers east.  Very curious; is the Great Leader seeking to preemptively demilitarize California before it’s too late?

Stopped in Reno to see the very grand house Lee Saloutos has been building in the foothills

and back onto 80; convoys deadheading west, a ’70 Challenger going east, gas in Fernley where as the Military were pulling out I turned north…

Wadsworth, Nixon…

a belated lunch between Winnemucca Lake and the San Emidio, then

Gerlach, the muddy Smoke Creek Road and 3:30 to the gate in plenty of daylight for unloading.

Our ponds were strangely full but no water from our wells, oh well,

but the sun’s still pink, and all is bright.  Or still. Or something.

 

M