Colorado to Nevada

Dianne’s dad (age 100½) was experiencing some medical issues, which ultimately resulted in him spending a few nights in the local hospital. 

To help her mom (age 94½) handle issues (and translate what the doc was telling her), we thought it would be a good thing for Dianne to head out to their estate in Western Nevada.  Dianne booked a ticket, packed her bag and a few hours later was onboard an Amtrak heading west. 

She arrived in Reno a mere eight+ hours behind schedule, which for Amtrak is pretty much on time.

Her dad survived and was soon at home again and functioning well.  Dianne could have taken the train back to Grand Junction, but I had a better idea.  I would drive out, load up the wife and we’d take the Subie back home by way of Death Valley. 

My route from Colorado took me out Interstate 70 to Salina, Utah, and then across Nevada on U.S. 50, the loneliest road in America.  Stops included lunch at Mom’s Café in Salina…

…with an overnight stay at the Grand Central Motel in Ely, Nevada.

There, I enjoyed my usual on-the-road evening dinner. 

Continuing westward the next morning, I continued across the Great Basin Desert, which some us actually find to be strangely attractive terrain.

I made the obligatory stop at the shoe tree near Middlegate, Nevada.  This is the replacement shoe tree.

Vandals chopped down the more impressive original (see below) in 2010.

I finally reached Chez Giles in Gardnerville, Nevada, where I stayed for two pleasant nights.

Death Valley

After two nights with the in-laws, I loaded suitcases and wife into the car, filled the tank with fuel at California prices…

…and we set off for Death Valley. Our route would take us down U.S. 395 along the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada. This is a drive I enjoyed many, many times while living in Reno.

We stopped for breakfast in the little town of Bridgeport…

…and as we always do, made an onion-cheese bread stop at Schat’s Bakery in Bishop.

Unfortunately, they no longer offer onion-cheese bread, so we settled for a loaf of sourdough, and a couple onion-free cheese loaves.

Before long, we arrived at the entrance to Death Valley National Park.

To mitigate danger, we made a rehydration stop at the Stovepipe Wells outpost…

…before continuing on to Furnace Creek where we checked into our cottage in the Ranch at Death Valley for a two-night stay.

We first bunked in one of these last year on a trip in October and loved it. This time, we got the summer discounted price.

That evening, we walked over to the Last Kind Words Saloon at the Ranch for dinner…

…after which we enjoyed a golden sunset…

…and a pleasant evening sipping wine on our cottage’s front porch.

On our layover day, we decided to drive to Badwater Basin, the lowest point on the continent. Our first stop was the Devil’s Golf Course. Maybe this is why I’m not a golfer.

The low point was a short drive farther down the road…

…where we were once again warned that it gets hot around here in the summertime.

We explored a few other roads, enjoying the stark beauty of Death Valley’s barren hillsides.

Fortunately, the day was relatively cool by Death Valley summer standards.

That evening, I had made early dinner reservations for the restaurant at the Inn. The food there is upscale as are the prices.

“What could be a better way to spend our kids’ inheritance,” I suggested to my darling wife.

“We don’t have any kids,” Dianne reminded me. I didn’t feel the least bit guilty ordering a $50 bottle of Washington state Merlot to go with our duck breast and steak dinners.

After all, that wine was cheaper than the half-tank of California gas at our last fillup.

Heading Home

Our route home took us down to Las Vegas where we caught Interstate 15 and headed north to Interstate 70. It should have been a nice, 80 mph jaunt with a stopover at the Super 8 in Richfield.

But it wasn’t.

Flash flooding around Beaver, Utah, closed the interstate and we became stuck in a long traffic jam. We were finally able to exit, turn around and head over the hills to U.S. 89, which we followed north to I-70 and our Super 8 lodging.

The next day, we continued east, dropping into Green River for gas…

…grub…

…and, of course, melons.

Our home in Fruita lay an uneventful 90 miles away.