The Road to 65, Mile 183: Northwestward, Resumed, Day 4- Reno to Mount Shasta

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 31, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Travel

May 30, 2015, Mount Shasta- I am at the base of northern California’s most sacred peak,

in a town where Black Bear Diner came into existence, some twenty years ago. The little eatery is still here, and in several other locations, across eight states. So, I had dinner there this evening.

More about that, in a bit. The day started with my little “grand-niece’s” blanket tent being carefully honoured by everyone, including she. After my usual breakfast of cereal and coffee, I bid my Reno family farewell and headed west. The first stop was the Sierra Nevada town of Truckee, both for a bite of lunch, (leftover from last night’s dinner at Pho, in south Reno). and to check out the neat little spot.

Sierra Inn is one of Truckee’s signature hotels.

Truckee Hotel is the other.

The main street was just starting to stir, on this bright Saturday morning.

On the north back street, there is a cute Arts Center: Kindred Art and Folk Institute

Having been to the performing arts center in Carson City, a few days ago, I am more inclined to notice these places, further along the road.

On the south side of town, across the tracks, runs the Truckee River.

It is about as low here, as it was in Reno, on Thursday.

The grass and meadow flowers are doing okay, though.

I drove on, across the Sierra Nevada, skirting Donner Pass- the site of infamy, in the mid-1860’s, and over to I-5, stopping briefly at Panera Bread, in Sacramento, for a power smoothie. The Sacramento River, seen from the highway, appeared to be running a tad higher than the Truckee.

I made it to Mount Shasta, the city of a few thousand artists, ranchers and dreamers, around 5:30. Finlandia Motel, on the west end of town, was my choice of rest stop for the night. It has a small spa, which gave me a much-appreciated soak, after checking out the town by car and on foot.

The office and lodgings have a fairy tale ambiance about them.

I got to play with my zoom lens a bit, over the past few days. The peaks to the west of Shasta (southern Cascades) loom larger.

The town has a fine natural foods market, Berrydale.

A barefoot young man, seemingly in a state of befuddlement, asked where he could get espresso. Berrydale has a small deli counter, but it was 7:30, and even natural foods grocers have to go home at night.

Seven Suns, though, is the main spot in town for fine coffee and tea.

Has Beans is the preferred coffee source in this part of California.

Back to my dinner: I sat at the counter, and was served by an attentive, mature lady. Nearby, a local man was working a crossword puzzle. I was able to give him one of the words, and a man in the booth behind us, gave another. Our conversation ranged from the arcane (He: “Different species of people can interbreed very easily”. I: “That’s because we are all the same species”) to the edifying (He: “I save all my paperwork. When the government came after me, I won.” I: “That’s good to know.”) I learn something new from everyone I meet, it seems.

The Road to 65, Mile 181: Carson City and Karaoke

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 30, 2015 in Social, Travel

May 28, 2015, Carson City– I am not graced with a melodic singing voice, and dancing came to me only after a lot of practice. Today would be capped by my artistic Washoe County extended family members, dancing (3-year-old ballerina) and singing (professional disc jockey).

We headed out for Carson City a bit before noon, the eventual goal being to watch a pre-school graduation, with several dances and Nursery Rhyme skits. First up, though, was a visit to one of downtown Carson’s neat eateries- Comma Coffee. It is just down the road from the St. Charles Hotel, on Carson Street. The Ferkin & Fox Company now owns the St. Charles Hotel.

Comma Coffee is home to a rather spooky group.

The walls reflect 150 years’ worth of memorabilia.

The “performers” prefer to hang loose.

Carson City’s beginnings, rooted in the days of the Pony Express, are commemorated in front of another cafe.

We spent a half hour or so walking around the State Capitol District, the heart of Nevada’s capital city.

This is one of three buildings used by the Attorney-General of Nevada.

West of the AG’s complex is the Donald W. Reynolds Press Center, of the Nevada Press Association.

Uptown from the complex is the Nevada Commission on Tourism, in one of Carson City’s oldest buildings.

We then sauntered over to the grounds of the Capitol itself.

This statue honours Nevada’s miners, a collective mainstay of the state’s economy.

The state has seen its law officers more at risk, as the population has grown so rapidly, in the past thirty years.

There are several other statues on the Capitol grounds. There are also more than two dozen types of flowers.

We took a short break in late afternoon at LA Bakery, another fine little cafe, in the West Side Historic District. It is owned by some Persian-Americans.

My affinity for bonsai was satisfied by this little gem, in the dining room of LA.

My mom had a Ming-style bonsai, in our parlour, for over forty years.

The Stewart-Nye House was home to a Nevada governor, James W. Nye, in the last years of the Nevada Territory. Mr. Nye, and his predecessor in the house, William M. Stewart, became Nevada’s first U.S. Senators. The house now is the site of a law office.

The Pre-School ceremony was held in a former Catholic church, now a Performance Hall, ironically called the Brewery Arts Center.

The children did an admirable job, with the various songs, dances and skits set before them by the veteran Pre-School Director. Our youngest generation is up to reaching the bar. My Reno extended family’s youngest member did her part in the dance, and made us all proud.

We headed back up to Reno afterward, and enjoyed an hour’s worth of karaoke, with thin-crust loaded pizza on special, at Uncle Vinny’s Pizza. My host, Steve, was the DJ at the event, and it featured five melody masters, each doing their covers proud. Of course, in keeping with my policy, no personal photos are posted here.

It was a fabulous day, and my Nissan is close to being roadworthy once again.

The Road to 65, Mile 180: Two Gardens, Two Riverwalks- Part 2

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 29, 2015 in Social, Travel

May 27, 2015, Reno- The atmosphere in downtown Reno, and along the Riverwalk, is changing. The gentry have arrived, thanks to banks and high mortgages, leading to higher rents, leading to artisans moving out. Gentrification here, as in so many other places, means condos, retro plastic furniture and limits on public parking. At least near the Riverwalk, that limit is two hours, free.

A friend referred to Reno as being on the edge between mountains and desert. Indeed, this is the case. I have felt myself being on several edges, simultaneously, this week. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, mind you, but one which rewards alacrity. Let’s see: Cold has been followed by heat; rain, by bright sunshine; near-collapse of personal transport, by active efforts at repair of same.

This brings me back to the Riverwalk. Several cities have emulated Le Promenade de la Seine, with San Antonio and Sacramento being the most prominent, here in North America. Reno’s Riverwalk takes in the banks of the Truckee. There are cataracts, narrow sluices and old stone bridges on which to focus. The water is turgid, brown, and, at present, shallow. Kayaks have run aground here, this year. As I said, earlier, so have a few iconic artisan shops. Dreamer’s, where we eventually enjoyed iced beverages, has moved further downtown, into Reno Center. Another, once comfortable, gathering spot has replaced a detailed mural with one that is more generic, and its big comfy chairs have given way to small, pea-green plastic seats, that remind me of the East Coast in the early Seventies.

Nonetheless, a Riverwalk is a Riverwalk, and there are places worthy of seeing here.

This is an eastward view of the Truckee. The old bridge is due to be torn down and replaced, soon.

Cataracts lead to swimmers jumping in the deeper spots, during Reno’s July Arts Festival.

This bridge, in mid-Riverwalk, seems to be the most popular crossing.

The oldest church in Reno, First United Mehtodist, dating from the 1860’s, lies north of the river.

We moved towards downtown, after a quick walking survey of shops revealed trends which disappointed my host, a long-time resident.

Outwardly, Reno has changed little, since I was first here, in 1980.

We found the new Dreamer’s Coffee House, and enjoyed iced lattes.

I know, I need to engage my zoom lens- and I have, since- just not here.

Whilst gazing upon the Truckee, my thoughts went back to La Seine, and to the Riverwalk of San Antonio. The last has endured some bumps, over the past five days, with its river rising and falling- and possibly rising again this coming weekend. My heart is with San Antonio and its sister communities, across the land of the Lone Star.

In the end, though, there is this truism:

I have my good points, as a man, but coffee- Yes, it brings us all up to speed.

The Road to 65, Mile 180: Two Gardens, Two Riverwalks- Part 1

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 28, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

May 27, 2015, Reno- The sodden ground of Texas has been much on my mind, in this strange, beautiful and terrible end of May. The Red Cross has issued a call for volunteers, both general and specific. Once again, here I am, far afield from the disaster area, wrestling with a measure of guilt and facing my own challenge. Such is the cost of marching to one’s own drumbeat. There will come a time, again, when I will find myself in a disaster area, and will be all-in with the recovery work. For now, that work falls to others.

So, on I go- being here, in The Biggest Little City in the World, for some people who I have known, seemingly forever, and they for me. It will take another day or so for my vehicle to be refitted; then I will take my leave. I hope that, in some way, I will have refitted my friends to address their individual pain-fields, and to be more equipped to cast that pain aside.

Most cities have at least one public garden, where flora of all kinds are celebrated and allowed to flourish. One of Reno’s is the Wilbur D. May Arboretum and Botanical Garden, named in honour of a local philanthropist and rancher, who was a scion of the May Department Store’s founder. It is part of the larger Rancho San Rafael Regional Park. Our visit there, yesterday, took place under partly cloudy skies, in comfortable conditions. Here are a few scenes.

The Duck Pond had two intrepid mallards in it. The often ubiquitous Canadian geese were nowhere to be seen. It being a strange year, that is somehow not surprising.

After stopping by the Visitor’s Center, and confirming as to the reason for the dearth of waterfowl, we continued to the Arboretum and Botanical Garden, proper. St. Patrick’s Grove greets the visitor, and extends along the sidewalk.

The stone shamrock reflects, with its cracks, the experience of Ireland.

The Labyrinth Garden is small, and mainly features ground cover, around the intriguing maze-like circle.

Passing into the Arboretum, we came first to the Kleiner Grove, featuring oaks of the East Coast.

A small area is set aside, in honour of Wilbur May’s mother.

The bridge, and adjacent waterfalls, express Mrs. May’s tastes.

This waterfall was available for photographing. The other was the focus of another patron’s deep meditation.

This abandoned water slide lies just east of the park.

The Songbird Garden was rather quiet, but then, it was mid-afternoon.

These fountain stones evoked Carnac, for me.

Light and shadow have a reassuring effect.

While finishing up our visit, I thought of Blucher Park, Corpus Christi’s downtown nature walk, which feature’s that area’s native plants. It was lovely, this time of year, in 2012. I wonder about its condition now, after the tribulations of last weekend. Corpus saw its record for wettest month broken, this past weekend. It apparently did not suffer as much as places further north and east, but the pain is there, and the community lost one of its own, in floodwaters near the town of Uvalde, west of San Antonio.

We continued on, this afternoon, to Reno’s Riverwalk and downtown. More about these, in Part 2.

The Road to 65, Mile 177: Northwestward, Day 3

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 25, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

May 24, 2015, Carson City- When I have been rendered less mobile by circumstance, and it is a weekend, my tendency has been to go with whatever flow that presents itself. Memorial Day weekend is not time for automotive shops, or many other business establishments, to carry on business as usual. Besides, the weather, almost nationwide, is pretty horrific right now.

We had a beautiful morning in the Reno area. The plan for today was to visit with other friends in Carson City, Nevada’s capital, some twenty-eight miles south of Reno. It was not a heavy schedule, but a picnic lunch and some playtime for a three-year-old, at a park on Carson’s north side. Here are two scenes of the park, with children and families left to their own devices.

Our little friend had a great time, going up and down a couple of slides, and around other parts of the playground. She was very much interested in the mushrooms which were growing near our picnic table, though not to the extent that lunch was ignored, especially with the doughnut dessert waiting after bites of cold cuts and cheese.

As an afternoon storm began rolling in, we went back to Carson friends’ house, kibbitzed a little about a cheesy, semi-adult cable TV show featuring robots trading barbs with a guy in a Starship Troopers get-up, and headed back towards Reno, using Hwy. 395.

The route took us past Beagle Rock.

We checked out Big and Little Washoe Lakes. The former was little more than a puddle and in fact, Little Washoe is, at present, the larger of the two.

“Big” Washoe Lake

Little Washoe Lake

The Road to 65, Mile 176: Northwestward, Day 2

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 25, 2015 in Social, Travel

May 23, 2015, Reno- I ended up here, exactly where I wanted to be this evening. It was the way I ended up here that is one for the books.

The morning dawned, grey, cold and gloomy in Tonopah. I had a light breakfast, then headed up the street a bit, to downtown, to take in the Jim Butler Days Parade. This is Tonopah’s Founder’s Day event, so all the area converged on Hwy. 95, and thereabouts.

Tonopah, NV on a grey Saturday morning (May 23, 2015).

There is an urgency, with respect to the protection of children here, as in many communities. These pinwheels serve as a reminder that this is everyone’s responsibility.

At 10 A.M. sharp, the parade started.

As is always the case, local service organizations provided clown cars and other motor vehicles.

A hobby horse took center stage, atop a local car dealer’s entry.

Young ladies performed a belly dance,with dignity and grace.

I passed by the venerable Mizpah Hotel, centerpiece of downtown.

My attention was then drawn to Tonopah Mining Park. Similar to Arizona’s Jerome State Park, the expansive spot celebrates Nevada’s rich history in extracting gems and minerals. No serious study of mining can ignore the Silver State.

The entrance to Tonopah Mining Park.

Ore wagons and drilling bores are on display, with visitors asked to keep a respectful distance.

This is an example of where miners lived, here in Tonopah.

Here is what is called a Grizzly, where the ore and mineral were separated.

In the Park’s museum, I paid attention to the many examples of gems and minerals offered by the soil and rock of Nevada.

Note, in particular, the azurite (bright blue stone).

Malachite is also important here, as it is in Arizona.

Finally, I caught the view of downtown Tonopah, from the hillside.

I walked back to my Nissan, and had little trouble heading northward, until I got to the small city of Hawthorne, just shy of Walker Lake. There, the same issue which landed the old warhorse in a shop in Prescott, recurred. I waited ninety minutes here, enjoying a tasty calzone, from Pizza Factory, and writing in my journal. I received a message in my head, saying “We’re going to get you to Reno.” Trusting this, I started the car up again, and voila! On we went, along the shore of scenic Walker Lake, past the towns of Yerington, Silver Spring and Fernley, and a tripped railroad gate, which was not an issue for me, as I kept the car in park, then was able to go around, with help from a sheriff’s deputy, who was engaged in traffic control at the errant gate. (There was no train.)

I got to Sparks, and called my friend from Sierra Sid’s Casino parking lot. Then, it happened again, no power when shifting into gear. Considering the four stop lights and two left turns that lay between Sid’s and my friend’s house, I got a tow. No one else was inconvenienced and the mechanic saw what my problem was. I have a safe place to stay, the car is parked securely here, and on Tuesday, I will get the vehicle to a transmission shop. We will get to the bottom of the issue, this coming week, and then the journey will go on. In the meantime, I will get to see more of Reno and the surrounding area.

The Road to 65, Mile 175: Northwestward, Day 1

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 23, 2015 in Travel

May 22, 2015, Tonopah, NV- After tending to matters of due diligence, including a chat with a local auto transmission expert, I bid my lovely adopted town farewell, for a month or so, and headed north- with some initial trepidation. One stop sign or traffic light after another, these butterflies faded, as my Nissan kept on performing like a trouper. I made it to Kingman, gave the car a fueling and myself a break, then headed further, to White Hills.

Rosie’s Den Cafe lies about thirty-seven miles north of Kingman, just shy of “Last Stop in Arizona”, where an unfortunate gun accident changed the lives of two families, last spring. Rosie isn’t around anymore, but the raucous atmosphere remains in full throttle. The bantering continued, between the waitresses, cooks, manager, at least one disgruntled vendor and the local regulars, while I continued with my chili cheeseburger. (This road trip will have its share of guilty pleasures, and plenty of healthy fare to balance them.) There was a bit more tension in the air at Rosie’s than the last time I was there, so “Pray for Peace”.

Las Vegas traffic wasn’t too bad, and virtually dissipated, north of Summerlin and the Kyle Canyon turnoff. My next stop was Indian Springs, a half-hour out of town, for more gas. The ride remained as smooth as silk. I had kept seeing the name Amargosa Springs, in my mind’s eye, over the past several days. Of course, that little community is home to The Alien Store, so I stopped and stretched a bit. Then it was onward, through Beatty, Smitty’s Junction and Goldfield.

Tonopah, with its magnificent hotel-casino,Tonopah Station, was my stopping place for the night. I had fish and chips for supper, and settled in at Economy Inn. Rain, which has been my companion, off and on, all day, stopped briefly- long enough for me to get to the Station’s cafe and back, on foot. I will end this account with a few choice photos.

First, here are a couple of views of the area around The Alien Store.

Tonopah has a similar terrain, being the eastern foothills of the Panamint Range, and the eastern portion of the Mohave Desert.

Tonopah Station holds its own as a classic hotel.

James, the Bear, greets gamblers and diners alike, in the hotel foyer.

So, this old mining community has given me safe haven for the night. Tomorrow will bring a brief look at the surroundings, then a 3 1/2- hour drive further on, to Reno, and some time with old friends.

The Road to 65, Mile 164: Base Camps

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 12, 2015 in Personal goals, Travel

May 11, 2015, Prescott- I often get to thinking, especially this time of year, about the base camps I’ve known, in my all-too-peripatetic life. Saugus really didn’t count, as most of my wandering in the early days was around town, or over to Lynn, a long walk, or short bus ride, away. Fort Myer, VA- I took a bus, then walked from Georgetown or Capitol Hill, all over Washington, and into Prince George’s or Montgomery Counties. Bangor, ME was the first real such launchpad, and I hitched rides all over Maine, as well as into New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Quebec.

Then came Arizona, and not a weekend went by that I didn’t leave the Villa-Oasis School and head for any part of the state that could comfortably be visited in forty-eight hours. Bear in mind that I was without a car, from 1978-1982. So hitchhiking and bus rides were my ways of getting around. It was something of a different time, though hitchhiking was a risk then, also. I made my first visits to Canada and several Western states, back in 1972, on a two-week dash from Montreal to Edmonton and Calgary, then back, through Montana, Salt Lake City and Denver, to Baltimore and Boston. The West unfolded in greater detail, during my two summers with Toltec, then Flagstaff, as my bases. I made wide-eyed visits to Lake Tahoe and Portland, as well as southwest Colorado and southern California.

Penny and I were a bit more settled, especially while raising our son and later, in the years of her moving towards the Spirit Realm. Still, we were off and running every summer, and some winters, either around the Navajo Nation and Hopiland, or to places like Israel, Guyana, Taiwan and South Korea (Aram’s birthplace, where we lived and worked for 5 1/2 grand years.)

Prescott has been the place where I have lived the longest, on my own. It is an excellent base from which to head out and experience the combination of visits, service, and exploratory learning to which I have become accustomed. Once in a while, like today, I wonder whether I might be wearing out my welcome here, but I know some people’s snippy dispositions and standoffish manners have more to do with them, than with anything I may have done or said. I will hang on here, for at least two more years, coming and going, and coming back, to and from places like Reno, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver, Victoria and Juneau, this year; and other, more distant spots, in November, 2016.

Base camps are no less valuable to the wanderer than they are to the settled soul. All the preparation and heavy lifting of life go on at one’s chosen abode. Without home, there is no true journey. Without the journey, there is no true home.

The Road to 65, Mile 154: May Day Meanderings

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 2, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Travel

May 1, 2015, Prescott- Th fifth month of the year always finds me taking stock of my assets, making concrete plans to consolidate my possessions, and downsizing, prior to a summer of journeying and carefully living in balance. This summer will take me to Nevada,Mt. Shasta, the Pacific Northwest, British Columbia, southeast Alaska and back down through the Palouse, Idaho and Utah; then to southern California, after a brief July 4 respite here.

For someone who values survival skills, I am a bit wet behind the ears. Tent pitching and foraging for food are my immediate concerns, as is mastering the art of inflating an air mattress. See, I have put up my tent,had it stand for five or six hours, then woke up and found it hugging my face. This needs to stop. I like sleeping under the stars, and still will, whenever prudent. Being that I will share space with Alaskan brown bears, for a few days in June, I think a solidly pitched edifice will better suit my circumstances.

Later this summer, Grand Canyon hikes and jaunts along the Mogollon Rim in AZ and New Mexico, will afford me the company of a master woodsman. These days will prep me for a 2017 thru-hike of the Arizona Trail, as will this Fall’s earnest completion of the Black Canyon Trail, over four stages, from Bumble Bee to Lake Pleasant Road. The Prescott Circle will finally be unbroken, and the Maricopa Trail beckons, in Winter.

All this crossed my mind, after a day of hearing the woes of a teen boy who has a serious crush on a lovely young lady, ten years his senior. It will go nowhere. The woman has a good man in her life, and besides, that’s where crushes are supposed to go. I used to be there, though my crushes, early on, found more contemporary focuses. He will, as well, no doubt.

After making a brief visit to a school whose constituents and staff observed its last “birthday” as an institution, I came home to find that the man I had befriended, and tried to help, over the past seven months, was actually a wanted felon. He was being taken into custody, as I pulled up to my driveway. I pulled in, through the neighbour’s drive, and was informed that he had vandalized my upstairs neighbour’s property, thus the collar. I have no idea what he is accused of doing, previously, but this does explain the hackles I have started to get on the back of my neck, as the day for taking him up towards Las Vegas approached. Now, that is no longer in the works. I have some of his possessions in my back storage, and his vital papers in the house. These will all stay put, and untouched, until the legal process plays itself out.

So, I begin this fascinating month, hopeful, energetic, and chastened about human nature. Tomorrow, I brush up on foraging and go to help a dear friend, one who can be trusted.

The Road to 65, Mile 121: Getting In Tune

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on March 30, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Social, Travel

March 29, 2015, Jerome- After a difficult morning, largely due to my dealing with a few internal conflicts, I headed to this mountainside former mining town-turned-tourist mecca. Jerome, as a whole, and my chosen lunch spot, Haunted Hamburger ( a bar and grill), are not the sorts of places one goes for emotional support. Those who live here are a tough breed, so the affirmation I got from the wait staff was- “Yep, tough it out” . I chose that route, anyway, so I found the meal enjoyable and left right after eating, as the place was way full of tourists- another reason the locals tend to be short, in the listening department.

Driving back up Mingus Mountain, I decided to explore the north peak of the mountain a bit. A four-mile round trip hike along Woodchute Trail was what really restored my equilibrium.

A restoration project, Powerline Meadow, is found at the beginning of the trail,just east of the road that makes up the first half-mile of the route. Livestock and vehicular traffic are banned.

About a half-mile further, I met a couple and their two children, with an eight-week-old puppy, who had walked with them to the nearby ridge, from which there are exquisite views of Sycamore Canyon, to the northeast.

I wonder how much the little dog saw. Nature seems to like togetherness, at any rate.

I know what I always enjoy seeing, besides the greenery.

I also find, when my chemical imbalance gets in my way, as it did once yesterday and a bit this morning, is taking a few drops of a soothing essential oil, and rub it on my neck or forehead. The return to equilibrium is almost immediate. It is a blend of frankincense, patchouli, Roman chamomile, sandalwood and lime oils. I find that, the more severe the zoning-out or disconnect, the faster the blend works to bring me back to where I need to be. I don’t mind sharing this here, as anyone else who is autistic, or someone who has OCD, panic attacks, or even mild schizophrenia, can benefit from applying this oil blend. As with our other products, there are no side effects and it does not counteract medication.

Now that day is done, I feel like, between “Haunted Hamburger’s” get-with-the-program tough love, my walk in the woods and the doses of this blend, I am ready for a busy and successful week.

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A Sagittarian Seeker

Sharing a life of inner and outer journeys

Category Archives: Travel

The Road to 65, Mile 183: Northwestward, Resumed, Day 4- Reno to Mount Shasta

The Road to 65, Mile 175: Northwestward, Day 1

The Road to 65, Mile 164: Base Camps

The Road to 65, Mile 154: May Day Meanderings

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