Trip to Minden, Nevada

Posted Mon Dec 18, 2006 in Travel

The interview trip to Minden, Nevada started not so well. Daughter and her family were here until just a couple of days before Thanksgiving. I wanted to see as much of them as possible, given how infrequently they can com. I also wanted to use the holiday for travel time, so we hurried up to get ready to depart on Wednesday. However, Wife, Young Son, and I all managed to catch serious colds, so we had to make a trip to the doctor’s office. With good drugs, we slugged along to get packed. Wife, of course, had the most to do and probably felt the worst, so we did not leave at 0600 Wednesday morning, as planned. We finally departed about 1500, much later than desired, but at least we were on the road.

I really appreciate my doctor for prescribing some antibiotics. I would probably have developed bronchitis without them.

We drove northwest on U.S. 84 toward Fort Sumner in the late afternoon sun. The days have shortened with the approach of the winter solstice. We passed dairies that are becoming more common on the south high plains, as well as cotton gins busily ginning cotton, their dust streaming across the road and cotton lint scattered everywhere. Module trucks lumbered along the highway, their high center-of-gravity making them a little wobbly as they trundled down the highway. I made a few images as we drove to document the journey.

We stopped for a short break at Santa Rosa, New Mexico to refuel and find a little food. By this time it was dark and there wasn’t a thing to see. We refueled at the Town & Country where we stopped once before, a number of years ago, on our way to play a charity gig at Mora, New Mexico. On that trip, we wandered up to the Subway counter to get a sandwich. Our best friend walked up beside us and picked up a small flat battery. “What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a hearing aid battery.” I replied.

“Uck!” she muttered, dropping the spent cell and running off to the bathroom to wash her hands. She has a thing about stuff like that.

Wife and I smiled when we remembered the incident. It’s still funny to us, years later. The T&C is dirtier now than I recall. So, we used the lavatory and loaded back into the car to find some food. Just down the road was a Denny’s, so we stopped in there and ordered breakfast.

I love having breakfast for supper. The coffee was good too, and I needed the boost to keep me going a few more miles.

We remounted and headed west on IH-40. After a couple of hours it was time to quit — I just could go no further. So I found a Holiday Inn Express, we unloaded our travel bag¹, and checked in for the evening.

Because we were sick, we didn’t rise so early Thanksgiving morning to get a good start. It was OK, because I’d planned in some extra time so we could look around once we got to Minden. If we didn’t keep to my original schedule it was a loss, but not a disaster. So, I didn’t have to worry. The interview wasn’t until Monday anyway. So, we got a bite of breakfast and headed west toward Gallup, New Mexico, on IH-40.

The trip along IH-40 to Gallup wasn’t all that interesting, although Young Son stayed engaged most of the way. I wanted to keep to the main highways as much as possible because I didn’t know if services would be available on the secondary roads. As a family, we spent time talking about the things we’re thankful for. Given it was Thanksgiving, that seemed appropriate to me. There were quite a few things, and it was encouraging to talk about them. I think Wife and Young Son enjoyed the exchange too.

I knew the sights would get better, though, as we traveled further west. We stopped in Gallup for a bite of lunch and to refuel, then turned north briefly on SH 602 before turning west again on SH 264. SH 264 turns into Arizona SH 264 as it winds through Navajo reservation land. We climbed a few hills and saw more trees than we had before. The landscape turned a lot more interesting and we talked about some of the old volcanos we saw along the way.

We turned north on U.S. 89 and then stayed on Alt U.S. 89 across Glen Canyon. (The leading image is from our approach to Glen Canyon.) The light was falling from the west and lit up the landscape beautifully. I made images through the windshield as we drove along, savoring the beauty I saw out the windows of the vehicle. As we crossed the Colorado River at Glen Canyon, the light finally failed and we drove on in the darkening day.

With the falling of the sun, Wife and Young Son also fell (asleep) and I was left to my thoughts. The Bimmer hummed along the highway, eating up the miles. What a great little car. I knew that even if the job interview turned out a bust, the trip was worth the effort. Young Son saw things he never knew existed. Wife and I relived a journey from 30 years ago when we drove to California to see my dying grandfather. The feelings I experienced as I drove through my beloved west were worth whatever price I had to pay on return to campus. I felt alive and free, things I had not felt in many months. I felt there was a future beyond the day-in and day-out of work life — beyond students, research projects, and classes. For a few minutes, I believed things might actually get better.

Hope is a scary thing when all one feels is hopelessness. I was afraid to let myself believe there might be a better life out there in Nevada. We’ve lived in Lubbock for fourteen years. Of the fourteen years, seven of them were pretty good and seven of them were pretty bad. The struggles that ensued after we learned of Older Son’s drug problem were hard. Although I believed we would come through them, there were times when it was impossible to see beyond the next barrier. That experience nearly cost me Wife and it nearly cost me my life.

Then followed my own struggles with clinical depression, much of which are documented on this web site. I’m not ashamed of my depression; I consider it one of my most significant battles and one of my most significant victories. Most people have no understanding of depression — they think it’s “the blues.” That’s OK with me, I’d prefer they not understand the illness. There was fallout for Young Son as well.

The last two years of my work life have been challenging too. I’ll probably write about that in a separate article sometime. Suffice it to say I believed I was trapped in my associate professor’s slot, not altogether a bad place, but it isn’t good when one believes there is nowhere to grow and nowhere to go.

These thoughts occupied my mind as I drove on through the gathering darkness. I also knew we were approaching the time to stop for the night. I hoped we’d find food and lodging ahead. I expected to find those things in St. George, Utah, if I could make it that far.

I did. We stayed at a local motel for the night (one without internet access, to Young Son’s chagrin). On Thanksgiving evening it’s difficult to find a place to eat. Young Son decided to stay in the room and watch TV. Wife and I saw a Denny’s just a couple of exits from the motel. Denny’s it was.

The Denny’s was crowded with people. Fortunately, it was just a little while before we were seated. Wife ordered something healthy and I ordered roast turkey and dressing. Yes, I ate Thanksgiving supper at a Denny’s restaurant in St. George, Utah. I drank lots of coffee. I was reminded of the scene from A Christmas Story in which, after the turkey disaster, the family went out for Chinese and had roast duck. I smiled to myself.

A group of sportbike riders gathered outside the window where Wife and I sat. I watched them, skinny young men in jeans and running shoes, donning their riding jackets and helmets. They chatted and bantered like young men do. Their bikes barked into life when cranked, and they paddle-walked them from the sidewalk where they were parked and zipped off into the cooling night. Wife and I chatted with the server, who had recently given up his motorcycle. The look he gave the departing riders was interesting. I suppose that on a Thanksgiving evening I would rather have been somewhere else myself.

After supper, we returned to the motel and turned in for the night. We were tired and had a bunch of miles to make on Friday.

Friday morning we all still felt poorly and, again, didn’t get an early start. But, it was good enough and the sky was pretty and blue and the road felt good again. We drove north a few miles from St. George before turning west on SH 56 on the way to U.S. 93 to SH 375 in Nevada. The geology was illuminated by the rising sun and was startling beautiful to us, who’ve lived in the flatlands many years now. I announced the state-line crossing as we passed into Nevada. It’s been many, many years since I was last in Nevada.

We stopped briefly in Panaca, Nevada for a break and some fuel. It was here I first noticed the slot machines, which are present everywhere in Nevada. The coffee was fresh and the air was clear and cold. I made a few images while waiting for Wife and Young Son. Then we headed off again.

Wife fell asleep while we crossed the basin-and-range country. Young Son stayed alert, watching the scenery as it passed. (It’s difficult to avoid a Lagrangian² perspective when traveling by car!) Each time we crossed one of the small mountain ranges, the next valley opened way up for us to see all the way to the next range, the road dwindling in the distance. Young Son and I talked about the travails of earlier travelers who would have found the terrain challenging, especially without sufficient water. We also noticed the open range signs posted along the highway. At one point we drove up on a small herd of cattle. One calf was standing in the middle of the road, and headed for the shoulder as we approached. Young Son and I laughed about staring at the south end of a north-bound calf. Wife stayed asleep, snoring softly.

We eventually wound our way to U.S. 6 and into Tonopah (pronounced “toe-no-PAH”). We wanted some food, but Young Son turned up his nose at most of our suggestions. (He picks odd times to be a teenager.) We finally settled on McDonald’s, but just as we pulled in, we noticed five tour buses disgorging their occupants, so we drove away. We tried a Noble Roman’s Pizza, but there was no pizza to be found. (We had to let Young Son be a teenager for awhile. Sometimes teenagers can be led; other times they have to just be allowed to figure things out for themselves.) Over the protests, we finally stopped at a place called Chico’s (I think) and found they had decent enough pizza and good sandwiches. Food was found and consumed.

We headed west again after the delays of Tonopah. As we drove into Hawthorne, I noticed the magazines spread over the Army Ammunition Depot. I made a few images as we passed and pointed them out to Wife and Young Son. It was pretty stunning to realize how much ammunition must be stored there. The lake was pretty too.

By this time I was just about ready to be there. I’d had enough of the car and road. I suppose every road trip has a moment like that, but we still had a few more miles to go. We listened to music and motored along. Young Son went to sleep.

I made one wrong turn because I mis-programmed my GPS. I second-guessed myself and then stopped, reprogrammed the route, and followed the instructions. I guess one wrong turn for about 1,300 miles is not bad.

We drove through the Wilson Valley (I think) and entered Douglas County on the south side. I knew we were close when we turned north on U.S. 395. The GPS had the location of the Best Western in Minden incorrect, but got us close enough for a visual, so we landed just fine. Instruments are great, but visuals are better! We checked in, got the room key, and unloaded our stuff. It was too dark to see much, but we knew it would be better in the morning. We were all just glad to be there, be out of the car, and have a chance to rest. We weren’t starting to feel better, yet, so rest was called for.

¹ We’ve learned to pack a “travel bag.” It’s meant for the travel component of a trip and means I don’t have to unload and lug all of our luggage from the vehicle. It also means we have less to keep track of at the hotel. That’s efficient for us.

² The Lagrangian perspective describes a coordinate system that moves along with the body in motion, rather than taking a viewpoint from a fixed coordinate system (the Eulerian perspective). It is often true that complex systems are more amenable to solutions with Lagrangian coordinate systems than Eulerian coordinate systems.