20030614
 

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June 14, 2003
Saturday
Flag Day

Start:   KOA, SLC UT
End:     Model T Casino/Resort, Winnemucca NV
Miles:   362
Hi Temp: 94.3
Lo Temp: 61.7

Wow.

It wasn't a bad day, but it was a long day on I-80.

The fact that the scenery didn't change much as we went helped lengthen it.  We could see a hill in the distance and take half an hour to get to it.

It was a nice, cool, morning leaving Salt Lake City. The street we were on (North Temple) merged into I-80 West after the longest on-ramp I've ever seen (it's shared with the exit into the airport).

Then we saw the salt flats.  Several Morton's Salt plants are located along the south shore of the lake, and had trucks and train cars taking on the salt. Mounds of it sat next to the plants. Some of the small flats were flooded, taking in salt water.  We didn't see any being harvested, so we don't know what that looks like.

After that, the scenery could be described as desolate.  No buildings, no roads other than the interstate, just a lot of nothing. Not even sage brush. Car tracks could be seen heading off onto the salt/sand and returning; at the edge of the road they'd show that the car settled an inch or so, but after that it was hard to see them.

After about 100 miles, we had passed the Bonneville Salt Flats and came to Wendover, one-time home of Wendover AFB where the atomic bomb B-29 squadron trained in WWII. There's not much in Wendover, on the Utah side of the line.  There's a big casino and other support functions on the Nevada side of the line.  I've seldom seen such a demonstration of the effect of state laws on industries.

We also entered the Pacific time zone.

Shortly afterward, we climbed up over a summit and another one in quick succession then dropped into Wells.  We refueled there and headed out again.

After Wells, the area was a little greener.  There were a few small towns out in the distance, and ranches, and trees in the low spots. A river began, running along with the interstate, named the Humboldt.  This river continues for some distance but eventually dries up in a basin with no outlet on the west side of the state.

We passed Battle Mountain, the town Gene Weingarten in the Washington Post said was "the armpit of America". I happened to read the Post, and that article. The big white letters "BM" on a nearby brown desert hill sort of sets the tone for the place.  They now advertise themselves as the armpit on billboards on I-80.  We didn't want to start to prove or disprove that sort of claim, so we went on.

The California wagon trains of the 1850's went through Battle Mountain, following the river. When the river dried up, they had to take off for the mountains and get there before they ran out of water.  The ruts of their wagons are said to still be seen here.

We went over another summit (both these ranges had snow on the highest peaks (11,000+)) and then pulled into Winnemucca. I haven't found out the source for the name.  We refueled at the far end of town and headed back into town on Business I-80.  We had two candidate RV parks in mind but we couldn't find either one of them. We settled for the "Model T Casino/Resort/RV Park", a large paved parking-lot sort of thing. 

There's a carnival playing in a big lot a hundred yards from our site, so it could be an interesting night. We'll be watching the 11:00pm news anyway, so maybe it won't affect us.

We went into the casino, Dolores to do her usual test to see how long it takes to lose $10 worth of quarters and I to get the e-mail. I came to Dolores and she was still playing. I had a beer at the bar and she was still playing. I went across the street to a supermarked, bought bran flakes and wine, put them into the trailer and returned to the casino.  She was still playing.  Shortly after that, she had a bad run and got out.

We went back across the street to the supermarket and looked around. Finally, we bought a rotisserie chicken and returned to the trailer. We cut it up, made a salad, opened a bottle of Santa Fe table white wine and served ourselves at the picnic table on the little lawn between trailers.  We read the local paper while sipping a little more wine and compared it with the Washington Post, noting vast differences. The local paper is one hell of a lot more positive about the part of the world it serves.

Then we walked through the carnival and noted that there haven't been many changes in that line of work over the years.  The local paper mentioned that one carny worked had stabbed another last night in an argument over a campfire down by the river. The victim wasn't hurt badly and the perpetrator is in the local slammer.

Then we went back into the trailer and settled down, hoping to outwait the local boys with cars with big bass speakers who are wandering in and out of the carnival area past our little house looking for something.

We're off in the morning for Burns, Oregon.