albeit somewhat cooler through that weekend after Alturas and a bit beyond
but then
not…
as come Thursday when I made a last trip North
it was again
Beginning Warming.
Eagleville as ever, 299 west
to Alturas where they, some they, were rallying around vintage vehicles, some restored some
seemingly original. I made the usual rounds; hardware, auto supplies, market, back over
Cedar Pass to Rabbit Traxx and a pleasant visit with Michael Sykes before,
southeast of Duck Flat, another Road Not [heretofore] Taken, initially into chalky white country
that might have been how Dave and I first entered Duck Valley in October 1973* a month
before Bryan was born…maybe. Further in the roads reddened, wandered through nameless low hills past a distant single antelope in increasing heat, perhaps passed Chicken or Coyote
Springs [only vaguely cognizant of where one might have been for lunch though
there there was cell service] but nonetheless eventually arrived back on 447 exactly
as anticipated and south where it was 89 at the pass and 98 at 2:20 at home.
Friday continued warm,
Great Basin Wild Rye higher than a desert eye, desert glare there and
an afternoon unduly hot, the first of several…
After a crab cloud sunset Saturday brought more heat, a day made memorable thanks to
a visitation from Parker and Peter Stremmel of Reno City, both seemingly sincerely
blown away by not only all the work as expected but, as neither of them had been so far out of town in this direction, ever, the landscape and ambiance even more so.
We finished up with a warmish tour of Storm Queen,
the perfect conclusion. A good time was had by all…
Sunday son Bryan came down through Oregon from Washington
on every obscure Forest Service Road he could find just so Monday I could borrow Dave’s
trailer and torment us by taking three loads to the burn pile before dropping it
back with a pause at the Parker Ranch bathing tank, a welcome relief on a day
too warm to eat out, warm
enough to render the evening walk necessarily local…not necessarily a bad thing, just not much
exercise.
Tuesday, cooler and promising moreso, I again enlisted B’s help to return Dave’s “portable”
A/C to the upstairs bedroom at Parker wherein he decided he could maybe live in the country
after all even if a scene like ours was a little too furry** for him. Although the quesadillas
still seemed ok he nonetheless left,
heading down the desert, around the lake, on to Minden and eventually that foggy City
by the Bay, never to be seen again although we were left with his so-called dryland allergies, which soon blossomed into nagging colds for both.
*Duck Valley not pictured; vintage photo was taken a day later overlooking Thousand Creek from Duferrena Rim, October 1973.
**A furriness we assume not entirely due to drifting clouds of dog hairs though they’re definitely contributory.