Two Days In and Around Tahoe

SATURDAY: Marshall, Carey, cousin Carl, and I decided to have a look around western Nevada a bit. On the way out, a parade caused us to detour up and away from the lake on Route 431, which proved to be beautiful. We took in a gorgeous view of the lake and, higher up, pulled over to play in the patches of snow by the side of the road. I'm pretty sure that these were the first snowballs I have ever thrown in July. The road peaked at 8900 feet and then descended into the desert.

Route 431 flattened out on the outskirts of Reno, and we inched our way through sprawl and an endless string of traffic lights before finding the famous "Biggest Little City in the World" sign. We lunched at an In-N-Out Burger. I've had In-N-Out five or six times now, and I can't figure out what the big deal is. So many people say so many wonderful things about In-N-Out, and I just don't get it. The burgers taste fine, the fries are fine, the service is fine, but that can be said about any number of fast food joints, right? I suppose their shakes are better than those offered at most places, but nobody seems to rave about the shakes. I must be missing something. It wouldn't be the first time.

We drove up a mildly unsettling mountain road on the way to Virginia City. Fans of Bonanza are well aware that Virginia City is real life the town where Pa, Little Joe, and Hoss conducted business when they strayed from the Ponderosa. My review of it is mixed. It is is a very well-preserved mining town with original buildings lined by wood plank sidewalks. If you keep your eyes aimed above people's heads, it's a pretty fantastic place that absolutely takes you back in time. If you look lower, it's an ugly tourist trap of souvenir shops, "saloons," and overweight Americans in tight tee shirts. Still, we were happy that we went, and we got to try our first deep fried Baby Ruth bar. Carey and Carl loved it, Marshall and I will never eat another. (I don't have access to a photo of that thing right now, but feel free to check back later, and I'll see if I can add it. It looks positively fecal.)

From there we wound back down the mountain, past what we assumed were wild ponies, and into Carson City. Nevada's capital building was appropriately understated and attractive. According to the informational plaque outside, the founder of Carson City left a big empty spot in the middle of his town in hopes of it being named the territorial/state capital in the future. The gamble paid off.

SUNDAY: With time to kill before Cousin Penny's (I mean Penelope's—so sorry for the slip) wedding, Marshall and I took a stroll into Tahoe City. The morning was uneventful until we pulled into a cafe for bagels and coffee. Marshall grabbed an outdoor table that we ended up sharing with sisters Dana and Donna, their mother Ramona, and Michael, Donna's quiet nine-ish year old son. We talked about this and that—why we were in Tahoe, my trip, baseball stadia, the quality of the coffee cake at the cafe—for maybe an hour. Cousin Leah and her beau, Brad, happened by after a while. We learned that Ramona and her daughters had been coming to Tahoe for July Fourth for over twenty years. They said that not much had changed in that time, but Ramona remembered Nevada before then, when the mob was a very visible presence. There was plenty of laughter that, hopefully, didn't bother those at other tables; I've been known to make restaurant patrons unhappy with my mirth. In the end Dana asked for the address to this blog (Hello, Dana?) and then gave Marshall her Lake Tahoe tee shirt.

Auntie Em was the organizing and action queen in helping to set up Penny's wedding, and Marshall and I helped unload flowers, beer, wine, and booze. We were asked by the boss of the caterers to get plastic beer cups as there were none. We bought all that were available at the nearby grocery store—almost 500 total, at the bartender's recommendation—only to find that Penny was dismayed to see her guests with red and blue Solo cups because she specifically ordered glassware for beer. Whoops! I guess Carey didn't need to stand in our wedding parking space for fifteen minutes shooing hopeful drivers away with a curt, "No parking here! I'm holding this spot for the groom!" The ceremony was on the shore of the lake, with mountain peaks rising in the distance. The reception gave me a chance to catch up with aunts, uncles, and cousins. A fireworks display over water shimmering with the lights of hundreds of boats finished off the night. Pretty good stuff, all in all.