3500 Miles: Day Seven

Day Seven: Thoroughly tired of the truck. Eager to get out of Winnemucca. We stopped for breakfast at a McDonald's where there was an impossibly young couple with 6 kids, no twins. Then back on the highway.

Lots of desert. Mountains around us, but not climbing too many. After a few hours, we hit Reno. I didn't really know we were in Reno, just that we were in a city, then it was gone and we were in mountains. Big ones. Lots of climbing then falling. It seemed like a good time for lunch.

We stopped at one of the last exits in Nevada, at a big casino/resort were we left the cat in the truck and ate at a decent Mexican restaurant buried somewhere within the casino.

Casinos are definitely deliberately disorienting. I knew about the lack of windows and clocks -- to keep you from realizing how long you're there or what time of day it is. I didn't realize how they manipulate the layout so it's hard to find the exits but easy to find the slot machines. With all the bright lights, crowded machines and tables, and women in odd and minimal outfits offering cocktails, it's a wonder more people don't have seizures.

Me, I played more video poker. I did well, too. At one point, I was up big thanks to a four of a kind. Then I started betting higher and losing quickly. I ended up walking away even. M-N stuck to slots. I don't get those. To random for me.

Then, back to the truck, into the mountains, and, finally, at last, after 7 long days, we made it to California. Only, the eastern half of northern California is full of mountains. And it's also where Donner Pass is. Now, this is just me, but don't you think that if there was a spot in the mountains where a family, trying to make it through, hoping to beat the coming winter, got stranded, slowly began dying off, and resorted to cannibalism, don't you think you wouldn't build I-80 through that spot, so that every exhausted couple (with cat) who'd travelled over 3000 miles, through deserts and St. Louis and prairies and Ohio, aren't then faced with this symbol of ultimate road trip tragedy?

But no, they even named a lake after them. Here's a picture of us near a lake: That's not Donner Lake. Donner Lake was on the eastbound side, down a ravine, full of windsurfers and boaters who must live in the area because god knows I wouldn't willingly go up and down those mountains to get there. We're smiling in the picture to mask the fear of the sign we just saw that said dangerous downgrade, next 40 miles.

Downhill for 40 miles? At least we weren't going to overheat.

Oh, and by downhill, they mean downmountain. Let's be clear. More on that later.