Livin’ the Dream … The Diaries of a Madman

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The sign at the mine.

And the wash next to the real road.


:flamingo:

20131222_C_Anniversary Mine Road.webp


20131222_D_Anniversary Mine Road_wash.webp


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Monday, 23 December

Woke up to the sunrise and the gentle sound of the tiny lake waves hittin’ the shoreline next to my home. Just another beautiful, sunny day in Paradise. Ain’t no way I’m movin’ this rig today. This is way too sweet a spot to leave.

Finished up a book last evenin’ ‘bout a serial killer killin’ off young’uns. Really good, involved plot and a good read. Even tho a work of fiction, ain’t no denyin’ that some folks are just plain evil. Don’t understand it myself. Ain’t got an evil bone in my body.

Tony the Tiger fed me some flakes again and I got geared up to hit the bike. Looks to be an excellent location for some explorin’. Toured the shoreline ‘round here first. This is obviously party central durin’ the summer. Not sure exactly how far I am from Vegas … but it ain’t far. Reckon a fella could come out here any Friday or Saturday night and have a large time. Then biked back up the road to the fork for the two coves. I do believe the suspension on the bike swallowed up the washboards better than the trucks’. Uphill and had to take quite a few breathers. Downhill once I made the fork and headed to Crawdad Cove. Road was really soft. Sand and pea gravel. The downhill was only reason I was able to ride it down to water. Not as nice of an area as Boxcar Cove where I was livin’. Some ratty lookin’ RV’s that looked to be violatin’ the 15-day limit for stays. Homesteadin’ I reckon.

Knew there weren’t no way I was gonna be able to bike back up that road. Figured out the art of uphill, mountain bikin’ in soft sand and pea gravel … you walk. So if’n I gotta walk anyways, mize well head out cross-country. Can’t get lost. Just keep the lake to my right and I’ll eventually hit my house. What a great call. Was actu’ly able to ride more than I imagined. Got some good pics and seen some new stuff. Got back to my area and rode up the two-track over the bluff that I had driven yesterday. Didn’t think there was no way in hell I could ride it. Put the bike in the lowest of all ‘er gears and just started crankin’. Hard. It was amazin’. Got all the way to the top and weren’t sure what was gonna blow up first … my legs or my lungs. It was gratifyin’. Very gratifyin’.

Had been out over 4 hours and worked up a good sweat. Hot shower sure would be nice. Indeed. Put on the ol’ Teva sandals and stood there buck-ass nekkid next to the truck and tried out the exterior shower. Mighty fine. Good pressure and a pleasure. Warm sunshine felt good on parts of my body that ain’t seen sunshine in decades. And nobody out here to even offend none. Believe it was Edward Abbey that said “If ya can’t piss off your own front porch than ya live too close to town.”

It was a good day.


:flamingo:
 
Tuesday, 24 December

Sittin’ here in low spirits. Not ‘cause it’s Christmas Eve and I’m alone yet again in a hotel room. Nope … that don’t bother me none at all. I’m sad ‘cause my first trip in the new rig has come to a close.

Woke up to the sunrise and some squakin’ birds in the cove next to me. Musta been a bird-type marital dispute. Cleaned up the camper and packed ‘er up for storage. Soon as I started easin’ off that point of land, a coupla coyotes come out for a look-see. Seen a whole mess of their tracks and been listenin’ to ‘em ev’ry night. Real nice treat to see a couple. Just wanted to walk over and pet ‘em.

I gotta admit I was a bit concerned ‘bout getting’ outta that spot. The ledges didn’t worry me much. I’m feelin’ pretty confident this big pig’ll crawl. But the sand hill worried me. Just too big and heavy to be a dune runner. Seen two other rigs in my area the last coupla days, a late-model Grand Cherokee and a 2-door JK. Both gave ‘er hell goin’ up that sandhill. I’d actu’ly scoped out an alternate route yesterday on my bike. But gotta try. Great thang ‘bout goin’ uphill in sand is that as long as you don’t bury yourself up like an idiot, ya can back down to try again.

Had both axles in high. Threw the doubler lever into low. Locked up both ends to distribute the torque to all 4 tires. And crawled up that damned sandhill like it was paved. I couldn’t believe it. The Zen of four-wheelin’ … go as slow as ya can but as fast as ya need to. Left a perfect set of Toyo tracks up that hill like I was goin’ downhill. Never spun a tire. Nice. Boads well for future plans. And that was still at 55 psi in the tires. As expected, crawled on up the ledges and headed down the bluff. Back up the washboard road. Stopped off at the dumpsters provided at the beginnin’ of the road and got shed of my trash bag. And my lil’ Christmas tree. It served me well and I enjoyed it. 10 bucks well spent.

Pisses me off how much garbage was around the area when the gover’ment puts dumpsters right at the beginnin’ of the road. Some folks should just be shot. Wouldn’t be no loss.

Backtracked a coupla miles to the RV dump station at Callville Bay. Really nice feature of the s***ter cassette is that ya can stick the hose in thru the out door and put clean water back in ‘er. Slosh ‘er around some and dump ‘er again. After a coupla times, got clean water comin’ out. Good to go.

Hell … like 20 miles from there put me on I-215 in Vegas. Amazin’.

Need to drain my water heater. Couldn’t get the nut loose with my water-pump pliers so need me a big-ass socket. Stopped at a Home Depot and bought a 1” socket. The biggest they had. Walked out into the parkin’ lot and it weren’t big enuf. Walked right back in and got my money back. Got directions to an auto parts store. Turned out to be an O’Reilly’s. Bought a 1 1/16” that fit. Went on up the street a bit and filled up with diesel. Mes’kin was getting’ gas next to me in a super-pimpin’ Fast and Furious type car. Not my cup of tea … but it was bad-ass lookin’ to be sure. He started checkin’ out the Mobile Home and he knew what he was lookin’ at. Pretty cool. On a fluke, I asked if’n he knew where I could fill my propane tank. He whipped out his smart phone thang and started typin’. Then callin’. Then gave me directions to go the 4 miles to a U-Haul place. Nice kid. I shook his hand and wished ‘im a Merry Christmas. Life is good.

Once the tank was full, I stopped off at a laundromat to wash up all my clothes. While the machines were doin’ their thang, I isolated and drained the exterior shower and the water heater out in the parkin’ lot. Then off to my hotel. I booked a room here well in advance usin’ my free points ‘cause I weren’t sure what I was gonna be gettin’ into. Wish now I’d of just stayed another night in the desert. Live and learn.

DoubleTree hotel is close to the airport but not much around here to eat. Applebee’s in the parkin’ lot. I ain’t eatin’ at no Applebee’s. So commenced to walkin’ up the road. Few miles landed me at Winchell’s Bar and Grill. Open 24/7. Good find. Mighty fine lookin’ bartender. She asked me what brought me in on a Christmas Eve and I said I came to see her. Game on. Had a respectable chicken-fried steak and a phenomenal peach cobbler. And lots of beer and friendly conversation. I strongly suggested she swing by the hotel after work for a night cap. She never showed. Musta been a lesbian.

On the walk home, I swung into a 7-11 store. Bought me a 3-pack of beer.

“I’ve smoked dope, chewed rope, danced, French romanced, fawked, farted, fought, shot the moon and drove big trucks. I’ve been to Janesville Maine, Spain, Spokane and Fort Wayne, seen three world fairs, been around the world twice, looked danger in the face and seen goats fawk in the marketplace, but I ain’t never seen …”

… a 3-pack of beer.

Come mornin’ time, I’m gonna ease the Mobile Home into a spot in the long-term parkin’ lot at the Vegas airport and fly back to work.

She’s full of diesel, propane, and water.

Sittin’ dead-on-ready for ‘er next adventure.


:flamingo:
 
CHAPTER 2

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

This mornin’ finds me sittin’ in the camper in an empty lot behind the Santa Fe Saloon and waitin’ for the sun to come up. To warm the truck up so the damned thang’ll start. The plan had been to spend another week explorin’ the Lake Mead National Recreation Area some more but it’s been a dif’rent kinda week off this time. All because of a text message.

Last week I got a text from my oldest daughter sayin’ she wanted me to come visit. Time to shift to plan B. Map shows it’s about 570 miles from the Vegas airport. Roadtrip.

At 0445 hours last Wednesday, I was scrapin’ the ice off the windshield on the comp’ny truck in a hotel parkin’ lot in Staten Island, New York. 9 degrees with wind chill in the minus teens. Drove to our yard facility to get one of our dredges underway to Florida. We had finished up the project in NY and had gotten the rig secured for tow over the last coupla days. So we hooked up the tow gear to the tug boat and got it gone. Had to beat the frozen 3” lines with sledge hammers to get them freed up off the dock. ‘Bout froze myself. Helluva way to make a livin’. 0900 hours and on the road and headin’ to Baltimore where my next gig will be and to catch a plane. Sent a text to the bartender in Baltimore and told ‘er to ice down some Coors for lunch. 6-pack and a most excellent bacon cheeseburger and then off to the airport. 5 o’clock flight to Detroit. ‘Bout an hour layover and then off to Vegas. Landed ‘round midnight eastern time. Truck looked damned lonely sittin’ in the long-term lot all by ‘erself. Weren’t nobody else even close. Lot was packed out when I parked ‘er there on Christmas Day. Hun’erd and fifty bucks for the two week stay in the parkin’ lot. But all safe and secure ... and a reimbursable bid’ness expense. Fired ‘er off and hit I-15 south towards the Kali border. Wanted to clear the city so wouldn’t be stuck in traffic in the mornin’. Pulled into a casino right on the state line in Primm, NV and parked in between some big ol’ motorhomes. Crawled in my bed. 21 hours after I was scrapin’ ice.

Woke up well before sunrise and wandered into Whiskey Pete’s Casino to find some breakfast. They had an IHOP in there. Ain’t a real big fan of an IHOP but it was certainly convenient. Ate me a mediocre, overpriced breakfast. The casino was playin’ country music from the 80’s though over the sound system. Good stuff. I like it. Was fixin’ to walk out the door when Willie started up on “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain”. If you can walk out on Willie singin’ “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain” … you ain’t an American. Go to Canada or somethin’. So I sat down in front of a nickel poker machine instead. Jacks or Better. Good music, good coffee, and waited for the sun to come up. Put a twenty dollar bill in that machine when I sat down and an hour later I cashed out for $20.30. Big winner. Might have me a solid future on the world poker tournament.

Some desolate country in those parts. Right inside the Kali border is the Mojave National Preserve. This is on the list of future visitin’ places. But no time now. On a mission. Promised the young’un I’d take ‘er out for some mes’kin food for supper. And gotta lot of miles to cover. Cut through Baker, Barstow, Boron, up over Tehachapi Pass to Bakersfield and then headed up the gut of the San Joaquin Valley. The “Salad Bowl of America” If’n you eat it and it grows in the ground … it’s grown here. Miles and miles of it. Makes for one helluva borin’ drive too. Made it up to Stockton and turned East into the foothills. Rolled in right at supper time and kept my promise of goin’ for a chimichanga. Nice flat spot in the driveway and set up the Mobile Home. Sure nice to go visitin’ and still sleep in your own bed.

Saturday we made a trip up the road to Sacramento for the annual Outdoor Exposition. My daughter’s boyfriend called it the California Redneck Convention. So we had to go. Had a large time. Huge deal. Huntin’, fishin, campin’, boatin’ … lil’ of ev’rythang. All day deal. One thang of note is that they had three other brands of pop-up campers there … Palomino, Northstar, and FWC. Amazin’ how poorly they compared to my Hallmark. Made me feel good. And found me a hat. Been lookin’ for a good campin’ hat for awhile now. Bought an Akubar. They’re sorta the Stetson of Australia. The style of this particular one is like a cross ‘tween a cowboy hat and an Indiana Jones hat. High end product and since it’s from Australia, it’s gotta be cool.

Sunday we spent the whole day buildin’ an enclosure for a chicken coop. Sure hope them chickens lay a lot of eggs.

So Monday mornin’ I said my good-byes and headed down some very scenic, twisty, two-lanes north through the foothills to get to highway 88 to ride over the Sierras. Through the towerin’ pines of Eldorado National Forest. It’s a damned shame Kali’s such a screwed up state ‘cause they shore got some purdy country. Road was icy at the top but I just eased on up and over and down into the deserts of Northern Nevada. Owned me a coupla dif’rent houses in the Carson Valley and lived there for quite a while. Real nice place. Expensive though.

Always enjoyed the drive from Carson City down to Vegas. Never crowded. Wide-open desert and some cool lil’ towns tryin’ their best just to hang on. Hawthorne’s unique. It ain’t gotta struggle for its future. The US Army takes care of it. Monstrous munitions depot. Tops of the underground bunkers as far as you can see. Reckon as good a place for it as any.

Tonopah’s a cool town. ‘Bout halfway from Reno to Vegas. Still some minin’ in the area and tourists passin’ thru keep it goin’. And home of The Club House Saloon right downtown on the main drag. Been there a long time. Friendly barmaid with a beautiful smile. And she liked my new hat. I told ‘er it was from Australia and she said “That’s cool.” See there … what I tell ya? Had a few beers and she recommended I also stop off at the new bar on the hill right up the road. Place called the Bug Bar. Sat right on the edge of a bluff. New with a lot of old stuff in it. Great lil’ bar. And an old man dressed up like he was in Gunsmoke. Barmaid wouldn’t give ‘im no beer ‘cause she said he was at his credit limit of a hun’erd bucks. I bought that man a beer and asked ‘im to tell me a story. And I sat there eatin’ popcorn and listened up. 82 years old and born and raised in Tonopah. Drove to Vegas in 1949 when he turned 18 and joined the marines. Gave ‘em 40 years and returned to Tonopah in 1989. He was a tremendous story teller and he had plenty to tell. I can only hope that someday I’m even half as good as that man spinnin’ a tale. What a wonderful afternoon. After 4 or 5 rounds he eased on out the door on his way home. I paid my tab and threw down a hun’erd dollar bill to cover his as well.

And hit the road down to Goldfield. Many entire books written ‘bout Goldfield. Y’all should read one. In 1907, town had over 20,000 folks here and was the largest city in Nevada. In 1906 they staged a prize fight here for the world title. Went 42 rounds and to this day is the longest recorded boxing match. And Virgil Earp served as sheriff here until his death of pneumonia in the local hospital. And it’s still the home of the Santa Fe Club Saloon. Established 1905. Been here a VERY long time. One of the absolute coolest bars I’ve ever been in ... and I’ve been in a few bars. $2.75 for an in ice cold Coors, free bowl of mixed nuts, and The Dukes of Hazzard on the old tee-vee behind the bar. Folks came and went. I stayed. Stumbled out late and managed to pull the truck ‘round back and pop up the camper. Don’t really remember doin’ that tho. When I woke up this mornin’ I noticed how often the furnace was kickin’ on. That can’t be good. Temp gauge in the truck said 24 degrees and she weren’t about to kick over. Oh well, been nice to do some typin’. Suns good and up now. Time to see if’n she’ll come to life yet.

:flamingo:
 
Wednesday, 15 January

It was still only 29 degrees yesterday mornin’ when I tried again to fire off the truck. No way. And no electrical outlet to be had. Beautiful mornin’ tho so threw on a coupla layers and decided to walk around Goldfield for a bit. Deserts are cool ‘cause there ain’t no rust. Lay somethin’ metal down and it’s still sittin’ there a century later. Got some great pics of some vintage cars. Couple of ‘em looked like you could get in and drive. Some folks livin’ here. Don’t look to be too prosperous tho. Reckon lot of ‘em are prob’ly retired. Few tourist trap gift shops on the main drag. Real nice court house buildin’ and the town’s still the county seat. Found a gas station that had been turned into the Dinky Diner. All I ate yesterday was popcorn and nuts so breakfast sure sounded good. And it was good. Eggs, sausage, taters, and biscuits and gravy. Mighty Fine.

Got back to the truck mid-mornin’ and she still didn’t wanna start ‘er day. Done some readin’ and tried again ‘round 1130. No go. Friggin’ 52 degrees out now and she won’t fire off. Beginnin’ to think maybe I got issues beyond ‘er just bein’ cold. Hiked back into town to one of the gift shops and inquired if there might be a mechanic-type fellow in this fine town. Folks were real nice and tracked down the fella that does the maintenance work on the state trucks. His wife said he was outta town for the week. And ain’t no other options. Stranded in a hun’erd year old town with more ghosts than people. Getting’ a tow truck to come down 35 miles from Tonopah and haul this rig back up there weren’t gonna be cheap by no means. Got back to the truck at 1230 and she fired right off. Gonna have to look into that whole glow plug/relay deal one of these days.

And down the road I go. Quite relieved.

I never got to see my grandpa much when I was growin’ up. Physic’ly he was a very large man. Union man. Ran an asphalt roller ‘cross most the roads in southern Nevada and Kali. One summer I got to spend a coupla weeks with ‘im. Reckon I was in ‘bout 5th or 6th grade. We went thru Beatty, NV and he snuck me into a lil’ casino and let me play a slot machine until we got caught and run out. It was epic. My memory ain’t much but I still remember that clearly. Right on the corner at the 4-way stop in the center of town. Place called the Exchange Club. And it’s still there ... 'cept now it's a hardware store. Also remember the sage advice he gave me when I went off to college. I remember it ‘cause I still follow it today. He said someday I’d be a bossman. He believed in me. He told me “If you’re gonna order a man to shovel s*** … then the least you can do is go fetch the shovel for ‘im”. May he rest in peace.

Pulled the truck into an RV park right in the middle of Beatty and parked ‘er ‘neath a massive cottonwood tree. 24 bucks and a total pit stop. Get shed of the garbage, empty the s***ter, top off the water and propane, and plug in the block heater just in case. And walk down the road ‘bout a block to THREE bars lined up side-by-each. Figured I’d walk to the farthest one and drink my way back home. Walked in there and it was empty. Not even a bartender. Strange. Oh well … go next door to the Sourdough Saloon. Never made it to the third one.

Barmaid’s name is Sue …”How do you do!!” (For the Johnny Cash fans). Great bar and enjoyed the conversation and the pizza. It was late when I left there. Real late. And once again I stumbled my way home.

Woke up a few hours later and made the two-hour drive here to the Vegas airport where I’m sittin’ waitin’ for my flight back to Baltimore.

It was an interestin’ week. No wheelin’. No campin’ per say. But some quality visitin’, sight-seein’, and drinkin’.

Covered ‘bout 1300 miles and slept in my own bed all week. One night in a casino parkin’ lot, 4 nights in my ex-wife’s driveway, one night out behind a bar, and one night in an old RV park in the center of town. The Mobile Home sure appears to be versatile. And I think that’s pretty cool.

:flamingo:
 
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