Rural tour delivers comfort and surprises

This weekend I did something I should have done long ago: I visited (briefly) some of those parts of Nevada outside of Reno that so often are dismissed with scorn by city dwellers. I did a big loop from Reno, down to Carson on U.S. 395, turned west onto U.S. 50 and passed the turn offs for the Kit Kat Club in Mound House and the signs that pointed me toward Virginia City. I continued on through Dayton and miles of sagebrush into Fallon, where my friend Linsay Oakden grew up on a farm on the east end of town.

The Oakdens' cozy home is decorated by Linsay' mother's paintings and photographs. Their farm is shady and green with alfalfa. The country sounds of mooing cows and the country smells of fresh air -- tinged with skunk whenever the dog walked by -- made me long for my five years living in Genoa and my grandparents' Ohio farm.

Linsay showed me around the spread and then another friend, Paulo, showed up and we took off to a family birthday party where we had plate upon plate warmly forced upon us. We made our excuses early so we could head over to Oaks Park where country band the Derailers were inspiring much boot scootin'in the cool night air. Families and dogs and drunken couples filled the park and danced as the band played originals and covers of Johnny Cash and Buck Owens tunes. They even sampled a little bit of The Doors. The highlight of the night, though, was watching those who couldn' resist the siren call of the music, despite their various abilities.

After the Derailers called it a night, the families headed home and the rest of us walked across the park to the Oaks Park Arts Center for drinks and desserts. The center is much more than I could have imagined. It is a work of art itself and filled with many beautiful objects. Head over to the arts blog to check out pictures of that.

The next day, Linsay and I drove a few miles east of town to the Grimes Point archaeological site to see the rock art. There are a couple of short trails there with plaques that point out the squiggles and shapes carved on the rocks about 6,000 years ago. It's so interesting to look at sagebrush and rock as far as the eye can see and imagine it a peninsula poking out into a vast network of lakes, populated by a people who made their clothes and homes out of tulle.
After accepting invitations for return visits, I said goodbye to the Oakdens and drove back down the loneliest highway and turned onto U.S. 80 at Fernley.

Here, the landscape took a decided turn, too. Instead of miles of nothingness and flat land with hills way in the distance, I was driving through the steep hills with the Truckee curving alongside, with an occasional huge factory. I'd always wondered what was west of Sparks and now I know. I'm glad to say I've covered a few more miles of Nevada and experienced a tiny bit more of this dusty adopted home.