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.