Tag Archives: Nevada

Nevada’s a Trapezoid But We Aren’t Square

by

34

It’s been an exciting few days. Aside from missing out on scoring an awesome piece of art – yes, I’m still fixated on the dogs playing poker tapestry! – plenty of groovy stuff has happened. The biggest piece of news is that my wonderful girlfriend is moving in with me.

That’s right. Tara and I are shacking up!!!

I’m such a romantic, huh? But truly, this is fantastic. We met in person just over a year ago, and as I was driving away from our lunch date that drizzly March afternoon, I never would have dreamed that she and I would be in an amazing relationship six months later, and starting a life together not long after that. She and I have talked about this, and it seriously boggles both of our minds. I spent a portion of this past weekend skimming through old Facebook status updates from 2009 (Timeline makes this very easy to do), and couldn’t help but smile every time there was a comment from Tara. Which was often. I love that our friendship dates back so long – it makes for a wonderful story. And also solidifies my belief that we were meant to be.

Also, there was a very interesting comment I made about “suddenly becoming a Peyton Manning fan.” As a Broncos fan, it’s strange how this has come to fruition. The past is a funny thing.

Nevada is shaped like a trapezoid. Anybody know the circumference of Vegas?!

Tara’s original plan was to find a job and then move out here, but the reality of the situation is, long-distance job hunting is even more challenging than short-distance job hunting. The fact that she wasn’t living here was a disadvantage; even though she rocked the interview for a job she was perfectly suited for a few weeks ago, the hiring manager told her straight up that not being here was a strike against her. Suddenly, it looked like she might not be able to make it out here for a long time, which would never do because we’re both so damn impatient. And then, she came up with a brilliant plan that will enable her to move out here right away and search for a job. She’s much less pickier than I am, and I’m confident it won’t take her long to find something right up her alley. Yesterday she gave three weeks’ notice to her employer, and she’ll be moving in on April 14th!

Tara, however, isn’t used to living in a large metropolitan area. There are big differences between her state and mine. For starters, Nevada is a trapezoid and Washington’s more of a rectangle. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. In the interest of easing my girlfriend’s transition to life in “the city” (which is how her friends and family refer to this place – or anyplace with more than four stoplights, actually), I came up with a list that not only points out the differences between Nevada and Washington, but also provides a few handy tips to blending in with the locals and embracing the Pacific Northwest lifestyle.

Nevada v. Washington, or How To Survive in “The City”

  1. There are no video poker machines in the corner laundromat. Or the convenience store, the carwash, McDonald’s, etc. I’ve spent a lot of time in Nevada the past six months and still can’t get used to the novelty of seeing gambling machines wherever there’s a spare electrical outlet.
  2. People don’t have “jockey boxes” here, they’ve got “glove compartments.” I didn’t know what Tara was talking about the first time she mentioned a jockey box. I assumed it was a holding pen for people who race horses for a living, not the opening on the passenger side of a car’s dashboard where people store, oh you know, gloves and things. I don’t care how short he is, there’s no way you could fit a jockey in there!
  3. A “crick” is something you get in your neck, not a fast-flowing body of water. You will see plenty of CREEKS when we are hiking, dear. If we do happen to come across a crick, I’ll massage it out for you.
  4. People lock their doors when they leave the house here. I wish it could be like Ely. I was amazed that Tara would leave the house without locking the front door. This happened time and time again, whether we were leaving for ten minutes or fourteen hours. I always worried about my “stuff” disappearing, yet it never did. Almost makes up for the weird “jockey box” and “crick” talk.
  5. We freak out over snow. I know you think our two-inch snowstorms are “cute,” but you know who doesn’t? The mayor. He absolutely panics. So do most other people. If there’s so much as a threat of a few flakes in the forecast, people flock to the grocery store to stock up on essentials like salmon and hazelnuts. Oh, and we can’t drive in it, either.
  6. Rain, on the other hand? THAT we’re used to! So used to that, we don’t bother with fancy contraptions like umbrellas. Don’t buy one if you want to blend in with the locals. Or buy one, but use it as a hiking stick. Or to poke all the annoying Californians invading our slice of paradise.
  7. We take recycling very seriously. Sorry for freaking out over the fact that your dad didn’t have any recycling bins in his house. I felt like I’d committed a crime, throwing aluminum cans in the trash like that. We have bins for paper, plastic, glass, and aluminum. We even have bins for recycling our old bins.
  8. Washington is as blue as blue can be. Politically speaking, that is – I certainly don’t mean the sky. Sure, there are pockets of conservatism out there – but that’s all east of the Cascades, where the population is roughly 65. We’re the state that just legalized gay marriage and will be voting on legalizing marijuana for recreational use in the fall. We haven’t had a Republican governor since 1985!
  9. The Mob doesn’t give a damn about Washington. We do have a disproportionately large number of serial killers, however. People like Ted Bundy, Ken Bianchi and Gary Ridgway. Even the DC Sniper used to live here. Instead of burying bodies in the desert, our killers choose the forest. Which, when you think about it, is simply another form of recycling! (See # 7).
  10. There’s actually stuff to do here all the time – and you don’t have to drive 4 hours to do it. We both love music, and you’ve been busy penciling in your calendar with all the live shows you want to see. We’re going to be going to a lot of great concerts! Not to mention restaurants, art galleries, farmer’s markets, wineries, festivals, trips to the coast, etc. I promise we’ll never be bored!

 And I didn’t even mention Voodoo Doughnut…

Tag Teaming, Ely Style

by

10

Dear Readers,

You’ve chuckled over her comments. You were dazzled by her guest post when I was in the hospital. So, as a special treat, I thought I would team up with the girl who stole my heart for a post while we are together this weekend. That’s right: it’s the one…the only…TARA!!

Or maybe I’m the only one excited by this?

Whatever.

My spur-of-the-moment trip to Ely has, naturally, been nothing short of wonderful. It still amazes me how perfect we are together, and how everything just feels so right. It’s nice to experience a real relationship for a change. Maybe someday I’ll talk about the other crazies delve into my dating past.

Someday when I’ve knocked back a few and my inhibitions are looser.

Speaking of knocking back a few, we did just that last night. But instead of my usual play-by-play, I think I’ll turn the blog over to Tara for a bit. Take it away, lovergirl!

Wow, babe.  Good thing I’m not feeling any pressure…

So, yeah, the visit has been wonderful so far.  And I get where Mark is coming from when he talks about how things were with the crazies. Been there, done that myself and its so great being with someone that gets excited and appreciates all those little moments that make up the best weekend since the last time we were together.

After he posted yesterday, I hurried home from work so we could spend the afternoon [CENSORED] and relaxing. Two of my favorite pastimes.  :)  We then hurried down to Racks because it had been a whole 24 hours since we had consumed alcohol. A couple of friends joined us and since Mark had posted on FB that we were likely to get shmammered, rounds of chocolate cake shots were a must. Not surprising, we bar-hopped until a little before midnight and even stopped at the Hotel Nevada to blow some bucks at the Blackjack tables. Also not surprising, Bloody Marys were in order (and greatly enjoyed) early this morning.

OK, it’s me again. In all fairness, my Facebook post originally put the odds of getting intoxicated at 70%, but as the evening wore on it was clear that we were headed in that direction. (Relax, mom and dad – we were celebrating. More on that in a second. Plus, this is Ely. What else is one supposed to do in a small town on a Friday night?). You know, I often say that I’ve lived my life in reverse. Married my high school sweetheart at a young age, settled down, bought a house and had kids. It wasn’t until my divorce that I started actually going out and having fun. Luckily, Tara is all about having fun. So are her friends. Let’s just say at one point we were playing shuffleboard and they may have been lifting their shirts in order to distract me. Which, I might add, worked like a charm.

Typical Friday night scene in Ely, Nevada. These were chocolate cake shots. Yummy!

Tara’s got the coolest friends ever.

Today has been much mellower. We got up at an ungodly hour – 5:30, after going to bed a mere four hours earlier – because…umm, I have no idea WHY we were up so early! Care to field that one, babe?

Because beers and chocolate cake shots = HEADACHE & THIRSTY!!!  I got up intending to drink a gallon or two of water, pop some Excedrin, and crawl back into bed for some cuddle time. Remember when I asked if we were going back to sleep or if I should make coffee YOU were the one that said ‘coffee’?

Regardless of the reason, our eyes lit up when Mark suggested a Bloody Mary instead of coffee. Nothin’ like a little hair of the dog to make things all better. And honestly, it turned out to be a great morning. Not only do we share a love for great food and drink, we also get a bit spastic over good music. With our respective music libraries, we took turns listening to old classics and new favorites. While he was jamming to Survivor, Men at Work, and Flock of Seagulls in high school, little ten-year-old me was rockin’ out to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, and Bob Seger. Many thanks to my mother for raising me right!

OK, first off, “Eye Of The Tiger” is the perfect rock anthem. Long live Survivor! Maybe my musical tastes in the eighties did leave something to be desired. But once the nineties rolled around, I got into all the cool bands!

Anyway, yes, this morning was pretty great. What I like best about this relationship – as Tara mentioned above – is how much we appreciate and enjoy the simple things in life. We both sort of spazz out over things that other people would take for granted. Like grilled cheese sandwiches, for instance. It brings us closer together. After our music and Bloody Marys, we headed into town for a stop at the All Aboard Inn, a bed and breakfast run by one of Tara’s friends. While this particular friend didn’t lift up her shirt, she did serve us a delicious breakfast – French toast for Tara, a carne asada breakfast burrito for me. Then we came home, watched a movie, and took a nap. Afterwards, we walked back into town with a loaf of bread to feed the ducks, grabbed a sandwich at the local drugstore, and ate that in the park. It was the perfect day to be out and about – sunny and 60 degrees – although a breeze did kick in while we were sitting at a picnic table, chilling us just a bit. We’re back at the house now for more movies and, well, we’d just like to enjoy each other’s company on my last night here. I’m heading back home tomorrow morning at 7 AM, and already feeling bummed over that.

But…

The reason we were celebrating last night? Tara has been applying for jobs in the Portland area, and there was one in particular she really wanted. They contacted her the other day, and she’s got a phone interview scheduled for Monday morning. They’ve already asked about her availability for an in-person interview. I was hesitant to mention any of this on the blog lest I jinx it, but Tara assured me it was okay. Neither of us is getting our hopes up, but if things do pan out, then she could be moving in with me very soon. At the least, I may get to see her for a couple of days again next week. Fingers, toes and all other appendages that can be crossed are officially crossed!

That’s all I’ve got. Any parting words, dear?

Yes, actually I do have some. I just want to take this opportunity to thank all your readers for their kind words and supportive comments over these last few months. You all have been wonderful and I love reading your comments. I look forward to the day when I’m moved, settled, and have a job that doesn’t send me all over this great state so that I can read more of your posts and start writing again myself. Just like blogging brought Mark and I together all those years ago, I suspect there will be more new friendships forged in the future. You guys are awesome.

May This Passion Never Fade

by

20

So, I’m in Ely again. Surprised? I blame it all on my girlfriend. She’s too damn irresistible.

When we parted ways after her last visit, we weren’t sure when we’d see each other again. For once, we didn’t have any future visits planned – only because Tara is focused on moving out here there ASAP. Her job search has begun. Things could conceivably move fast, if everything falls into place. So there’d been talk of meeting up in Boise for a weekend, but that was it. And then, suddenly, opportunity presented itself. Her dad (who she is living with until she moves) was headed out of town for several days, and the kids are with their mother this week. The lure of four nights together in Ely proved impossible to resist, so we made plans for me to drive down on Wednesday. Even then, we were nearly thwarted by a snowstorm, a case of the stomach flu, and an appointment with the state of Washington regarding my unemployment. But everything always seems to work out perfectly for us, and all of those became non-issues; at 4:41 AM I pulled out of my condo complex and began the long trek to Ely. Just a little over twelve hours later I pulled up in front of Tara’s office and we embraced. It had been an excruciating eleven days apart.

Yes, I’m serious. And may this passion never fade.

The trip down was uneventful. Cold and windy, but not a cloud in the sky the entire 837 miles. There’s snow on the ground here, but not a ton. Still, more than I encountered in December. Go figure. The desert is quite beautiful in late winter, as a matter of fact, with the snow-covered mountains that stretch north to south nearly the entire length of northern Nevada, and acres of silver sagebrush dotting the plains. It got down to 12 degrees my first morning here, but warmed up to the mid-40s. Today it was 16, but on the way up to 60, with clear skies. I couldn’t ask for better weather.

Wednesday evening, Tara made me egg rolls and sesame noodles. It was a great meal after a long drive. Felt weird to be in her dad’s house – my last two trips here, I stayed at Tara’s, but her place is rented out now – although, weird in a good way. He’s got a real nice home. Thursday, Tara had to head into Wells on business, so I accompanied her. Wells is two hours away, and even though I’d spent the entire previous day in the car, this drive was pretty spectacular. Maybe it was the grazing antelope we spotted shortly after heading out. Or the detour down a dirt road. Let’s just say, great drive! After several hours in Wells, we drove to Elko, another hour away. There, we toured Lamoille Canyon, stopped for Bloody Marys and hush puppies at JJ’s in Spring Creek, visited with Tara’s aunt and uncle, and met up with her cousin and his family for dinner at a “sushi” place called Flying Fish. I use the term loosely because it’s not traditional sushi, but is still quite good. They have something like 30 different “long rolls” you can choose from; I opted for the Godzilla, consisting of shrimp, crab, scallops, avocado and eel sauce in a tempura batter. Sooo good. Add in the appetizers – inari, stuffed avocado, and lumpia – and we were pretty damn full. Afterwards, we made a quick stop at K-Mart (because Ely does not have any big box retail outlets and Tara has to take advantage whenever she’s in “the city” to stock up on necessities), and then made the 2.5-hour drive back home, chasing a brilliant full moon the entire way.

All in all, it’s been a very nice visit so far, and is only halfway done. The next couple of days shouldn’t be so hectic. Tara’s working until noon today, and then we’re going to relax the afternoon away before heading to Rack’s to meet up with some friends for drinks. Because in Ely on a Friday night, that’s what you do. Tomorrow we’ve got nothing planned other than breakfast in town and a walk to the duck pond. It sounds like a perfectly idyllic day to me. Sunday morning, I’ll head back home. Sadly, we lose an hour thanks to @#$&% Daylight Savings Time, which I already hate as it is. But, hey – what are you going to do? At least we’re enjoying a nice little bonus visit in the meantime!

Mountains south of Jackpot, Nevada.

My baby makin' me dinner!

Tara's dad's driveway. Not his sole method of transportation.

Lamoille Canyon, east of Elko.

*Smooch*

Stream running through Lamoille Canyon.

Godzilla Roll from Flying Fish Elko.

If It Slices or Dices, It Entices

by

21

Last week, I bought a mandoline. And by mandoline, I mean this:

NOT this:

Captain Corelli I am not.

I do, however, have a fondness for kitchen gadgets. Let’s just say if it slices or it dices, it entices. This is why I think Tara’s mom is so cool. She has both a miniature blowtorch and a set of battery-powered salt and pepper grinders that I oohed and ahhed over during my visit in October (an identical pair of the latter subsequently found their way beneath Tara’s tree on Christmas day, proving that Tracy actually paid attention to the attention I paid to (confused yet?) her gadgets. Hmm, maybe I’ll find a blowtorch stuffed in my stocking this year?! Dare to dream, Petruska).

Anyway.

The point is, anything that is cool and handy and helps out around the kitchen makes my heart beat faster. This applies to both my girlfriend and inanimate objects. I found myself in Fred Meyer last week with a little extra cash and a mandoline that happened to be on sale. Ooh, I thought. I can’t believe I’ve survived all these years without one of those! And into my baby cart it went.

Bread? Check. Milk? Check. Mandoline? Check.

Sadly, the next few dinners I made did not call for any sliced ingredients. I was beginning to think my poor, lonely mandoline might be forever regulated to the Second Drawer Down, destined to gather dust, when I found a new casserole recipe that I wanted to try that called for, among other ingredients, sliced shallots. Be still my heart! It was time to bust out the mandoline!!

I grabbed a shallot and commenced to slicin’. Everything was fine and good – I had perfectly uniform sliced shallots piling up in a neat little stack on the cutting board – until I nearly severed my thumb.

In case you’re not familiar with a mandoline, it’s got a very sharp blade that slices through a myriad of vegetables – onions, carrots, potatoes, turnips – with ease. And also, I might add, human flesh.

I didn’t even realize I’d cut myself at first. There was a sharp pain and my reflexes kicked in immediately. I examined my thumb and it wasn’t bleeding, so I figured it had been a close call and nothing more. But then it did turn red and, upon closer examination, I discovered a chunk of flesh missing.

Ouch.

You know, being a fan of the cooking show Chopped, I have never been able to understand why it is that on nearly every episode somebody ends up cutting him- or herself. Is one of the mystery ingredients blood? But after my own close brush with a heinous cooking injury, let’s just say I’m a little more sympathetic to their plight. I get it now. Cooking is dangerous. It is not for the faint of heart.

Maybe I’m exaggerating a little. “Chunk of flesh” might be a bit extreme. But there was a knick in my thumb, and it smarted a little.

Fortunately, the casserole turned out delicious.

Here Today, Gone To…day!

All my wishes for snow, I’m happy to report, came true. Around 8:30 Tuesday night it began snowing, and was piling up nicely by the time I went to bed. By daybreak we had 3″ on the ground, and school was cancelled.

Unfortunately, by daybreak it was already 40 degrees and raining. Alas, within a few hours all traces of snow had disappeared. It’s often like that around here; it rarely lasts more than a day or two. The high temperature yesterday reached 52. Our meager three-inch snowpack never stood a chance.

But it was beautiful while it lasted, and winter isn’t over yet!

Rx For a Successful LDR

Tara and I are approximately 12 hours away from seeing each other again. Woohoo!

The thing that has made this long-distance relationship bearable is the frequency of visits we have made back and forth. We’ve never been apart too terribly long, despite fears to the contrary when we first started dating. Of course, I don’t think either of us expected our feelings toward each other to be so intense in the beginning, either. We are both very anxious for Tara to move here, and looking forward to starting that chapter of our lives together. In the meantime, we’ll keep enjoying these little get togethers.

The last time she was here, I ended up in the hospital while she was stuck in my house by herself for three nights. We definitely hope to make up for that this time around. We’ll have a day to ourselves, a day spent adventuring with the kids, a birthday dinner for my dad, and then on Sunday we fly out together to Vegas. We’re not staying there this time – our destination instead is lovely Pahrump, Nevada – but it’ll be fun regardless. We wanted to take advantage of some work she had to do down south by spending a couple of extra days together. Translation: free hotel room.

Hey, a bargain is a bargain.

I fly back Tuesday night, so it won’t be a long trip to Nevada this time, but even a couple of days will be worth it.

Then, we’ll reset the countdown clock to our next visit, in February.

Related articles

Out Of This World

by

33

My coffee tastes weird this morning.

Not because there’s anything wrong with the brew or the filter or the water. It’s just that, it didn’t come from Tara’s coffeemaker. Little things like that are hard to get used to when you’ve just returned from an amazing trip with the person you love. Don’t even get me started on sleeping alone on the wrong side of the bed last night…

But we’ll see each other again in 15 days. That ain’t bad. And she’s moving out of her house this weekend, the first crucial step toward coming out here. Her plan is to move to Vancouver in March, depending on her job search. She’ll be moving in with me. Just further proof that 2012 is going to rock. We certainly welcomed it in on a high note.

The whole trip was incredible.

Hey Good Lookin’, What’cha Got Cookin’?

Tuesday evening – 8 whole days ago already – I finally got to cook a meal for Tara. I suppose you could technically say I did on Thanksgiving, but that was more a full-blown feast for a bunch of people. This was an intimate candlelit dinner complete with wine (we polished off two bottles together) and music. I made chicken cacciatore, and she praised my culinary abilities. It was a pretty romantic night, that’s for sure.

Good food was definitely a theme for the trip. Tara spoiled me with some pretty tasty meals; Wednesday, she made a chicken and broccoli “braid” incorporating a lattice-like pattern of crescent dough. The whole thing was to die for. Then there were the redneck egg rolls and sesame noodles, the pot roast, the meatballs for the potluck…man alive. I’m so glad I’m dating somebody who knows how to cook. That hasn’t always been the case, and as much as I like to get busy with pots and pans, I don’t want to do that every night, ya know?

Tara ended up taking Thursday and Friday off from work. Fantastic, right? Well, yeah…except for the fact that she worked me like a bitch that first day. We spent a good twelve hours – minus breaks – painting her bedroom in preparation for the renters who will be moving into her house in a few days. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but she wanted taupe walls and a white trim; great color scheme, but a lot of work blending the two. The truth is, even though we were both wiped out by the end of the day, I still enjoyed myself. We had my iPod hooked up to her stereo and listened to good music, and despite our typical two-hour phone conversations every night, still managed to come up with some great conversation topics. Besides, I’d rather spend a day cooped up in a room together painting than 840 miles apart. We drove into Ely for lunch at the All Aboard Inn, a bed-and-breakfast place by the railroad depot that is owned by her friend Tricia. Had delicious stuffed burgers and got to chat with the proprietor for a bit. We finally finished for the day around 10 PM, and relaxed on the couch with some mindless television to keep us occupied. And then we crashed.

Mr. & Mrs. Social 

Friday was better. After relaxing with coffee and old game shows in the morning – Gene Rayburn, R.I.P.! – we finished up the painting, then headed into town. Tara’s cousin’s wife, Andria, was coming down for a visit with her daughter Addison, and we met up at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. After a wonderful margarita and a uniquely delicious cabbage salsa we returned to Tara’s house, where we sat around her kitchen table talking, drinking and playing cards. Jessie and Arturo (sister and sister’s boyfriend) joined us, followed by Tyler (her coworker) and his girlfriend, Emily. Tara made those redneck egg rolls and sesame noodles I mentioned earlier. They were daaamn good, and we all scarfed them down. The drinking continued, and we played Apples To Apples for awhile before graduating to King’s Cup, a – surprise! – drinking game. We wound down by watching Drop Dead Fred on Tara’s VCR. No, I didn’t misspell “DVD player” in case you were wondering. Dria and Addison stayed the night, and Arturo crashed on the couch until 4 AM. The entire evening was a blast. I’m used to spending quiet evenings alone half the time; playing Mr. and Mrs. Social for a change was lots of fun. I’d say our first dinner party as a couple was a big success.

Saturday morning we had coffee and doughnuts and sat around the living room talking with Dria until she had to leave for the drive back to Elko around noon. That evening we entertained again, having Tara’s friends Jessica and Bill over for dinner. The pot roast, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots and homemade rolls were delicious.

They left around 8 PM, and then it was time to go out and PARTY!

10, 9, 8, 7…

I already wrote about how dull and depressing my last New Year’s Eve was. Saturday night was the complete opposite! Our first stop was Racks Bar & Grill, where we met up with Tara’s dad, aunt and uncle, and a couple of others. We had a drink and chatted for awhile, then drove to the Bristlecone Convention Center for the 105th annual Fireman’s Ball. I was a little leery at first when we sat down and the DJ started playing Boot Scootin’ Boogie. I asked Tara when we might hear a Nirvana song, and she laughed. But with plenty of drinks to keep us fueled – I started with gin and tonics and switched to cranberry juice and malibu rum halfway through – plus good conversation, visiting with Tara’s friend Mary, and hanging out with her family, we had a really good time. The music didn’t improve all that much, unless you’re really into Def Leppard and Sir Mix-a-Lot and Big & Rich, but they did throw in some Lady Gaga to keep things current. Tara even got me out on the dance floor for a bit. It’s amazing what you’ll do when you’re too drunk to care. Much sooner than expected, it was one minute until midnight. The DJ counted down the last seconds, balloons dropped from the ceiling, and I had an amazing stroke-of-midnight kiss to welcome in 2012. Ahh…now, that is the proper way to usher in a new year! Especially one so full of promise.

This year is going to rock.

We stayed for another hour, and then walked across the street to the Hotel Nevada, where Mary joined us for a very early breakfast. Chicken fried steak and eggs are the perfect way to stave off a hangover, it turns out. We dropped Mary off and then headed home, falling into bed around 3:30 AM.

Best New Year’s Eve ever.

Sunday morning we were both feeling the effects of the previous night, though I wasn’t too terribly bothered. My stomach felt a little queasy, but at least I didn’t suffer from a headache. Every New Year’s Day Tara’s family gets together for a potluck, and this year the festivities were held at her Uncle Ward’s ranch about an hour south of Ely. We arrived around 2:30, and I was blown away by the size of this place. It’s 330 acres, and I’ve gotta tell you, that’s a lot of land. Ward has cows, chickens, and peacocks, and several ponds filled with trout and sturgeon. Set against the backdrop of the Nevada mountains, the place is stunning. The house itself is a real man cave, complete with the racks of many animals Ward has hunted over the years. Moose, coyote, elk, bobcat, all mounted to the wall. Dria insisted their eyes were following her around the room. I sort of got the same impression myself.

Tara brought meatballs cooked with beer, brown sugar and onion soup mix, as well as deviled eggs. That was just the tip of the iceberg; there were all sorts of appetizers, in addition to ham, turkey, and a 20-lb. yellowfin tuna that had been buried and cooked for hours. The food was amazing, and I enjoyed meeting so many of her family members.

We were back home by 8 PM, and enjoyed a mellow evening at her place. My last night in her house, as a matter of fact. Ever. Which is sort of bittersweet but at the same time, exciting.

Out Of This World

Monday morning we awoke early. I was excited for our trip south. We were headed for Vegas, baby! I was there once before, but it hardly counts; I was 17 and confined to Circus Circus. Not very exciting, and none of the hip new casinos or resorts were around then. We grabbed breakfast to go and hit the road a little after 8:00. Soon we found ourselves on the Extraterrestrial Highway, a swath of Nevada State Route 375 that passes by Area 51 and has been the site of many UFO reports over the years. We stopped in Rachel for cocktails at the Little Ale’Inn, a bar and grill that caters to the UFO crowd with whimsically cheesy decor and, of course, a gift shop. The place looked familiar to me as soon as we walked in, and I quickly realized they had filmed a scene from the movie Paul there. After chatting with the female bartender-slash-owner, who was quite the character, and buying a few souvenirs we were back on the road, eventually hitting Vegas about 2:30. We stopped for lunch at Raising Cane’s, the chicken finger joint I loved so much in Nebraska, before checking into our suite at the Mandalay Bay Resort. Tara had found an excellent deal online, and we ended up paying about $25 each after taking advantage of a coupon she had. Viva Las Vegas!

The hotel was gorgeous, and our room very nice. Especially the jetted jacuzzi tub. I was eager to walk The Strip, so we headed out, visiting New York, New York first, before ending up at the Bellagio, where I made a $50 donation to the City Of Las Vegas. Damn slots! Tara, at least, came out slightly ahead. Oh well, it was fun to actually gamble in Las Vegas. Darkness had fallen when we left, and we stopped to enjoy the Bellagio Fountains before making the trip back to the room. I was overwhelmed by the glitz and glamour of Vegas, and the massive throngs of people walking the streets, even on a Monday night. Despite that, I loved it! We drove out to Henderson to meet up with Tara’s sister Maggie and her friends Betsy and Josh for a late dinner and cocktails before finally returning to our suite. What a busy and fun day, the only downer being that it was our 9th and final night together.

Tuesday we slept in until 7:15, but we had places to go and things to do before that dreaded trip to the airport. After grabbing coffee and scones at Starbucks we bought tickets for the Mandalay Bay Shark Reef, and the Titanic and Bodies exhibits at the Luxor. We toured the aquarium and then, on the way back to the room as we were stepping onto the elevator, a black man with a sideways baseball cap and a large clock around his neck got on. Tara was practically jumping up and down with excitement when she realized it was none other than Flavor Flav, the 80s rap star and member of Public Enemy. I don’t think anybody else on the elevator even knew who he was! We checked out of the room and hit the Luxor for the other two exhibits. Loved them both; Titanic was filled with artifacts from the doomed ship, and Bodies contained the preserved remains of actual cadavers, and was very informative. We stopped at Smashburger for lunch, and then…sigh…made our way to the airport.

Those goodbyes just plain suck.

We Belong Together

I came to a realization during this trip: Tara and I belong together.

That may not seem like an eye-opening statement, but when it comes to relationships there’s a difference between merely being together and belonging. I truly feel like we were meant to be, and our nine days together cemented that. Spending nine days in each other’s company was the perfect litmus test for what it will be like living together, and not only did we not get sick of each other, but we had an amazing time and didn’t want the visit to end. I felt comfortable around her friends and family, and accepted by everybody. We have a wonderful relationship that has blossomed and grown quickly, and I have no doubt it’s the inevitable culmination of our long and enduring friendship. I am eternally grateful that we took a chance on this, because I simply cannot imagine life without her. This feels right in a way that nothing else has, and on the flip side, being apart again like we are now just feels wrong.

So, bring it on, 2012! I’ve never been so excited for a particular year.

Tara lives on this street in Ruth, NV. For a few more days, anyway.

Getting into the spirit(s) at the Bristlecone Convention Center.

Uncle Ward's ranch.

Cruisin' down the Extraterrestrial Highway.

Rachel, NV harbors all sorts of residents...

Must've been illegally parked.

What, no valet service?!

There WERE some odd-looking characters in here...

Inside the Little Ale'Inn Bar. We added a dollar bill to the ceiling.

The infamous Area 51. Notice that weird-looking beam of light coming from the sky?!

Our suite was on the 16th floor.

Vegas, Baby!

The Manhattan Skyline...in Vegas

The Bellagio Fountains coming to life.

Lady Liberty in the desert

Tara rapping with Flavor Flav.

Airports, Christmas and Breakfast in Bed

by

25

Today’s thankfuls: smart phones and WordPress 2.0 for the Android. It may take forever to write a post from my phone, but I’m a man on a mission today!

Sunday afternoon I arrived at PDX a little bit after 1:00. Going through security felt surreal; actually boarding the airplane was even stranger. I’m used to picking people up or dropping them off at airports – not flying. I managed to grab a window seat near the wing and settled in for takeoff. I was a little
nervous as the engines powered up and we raced down the runway, and then we were airborne. “This isn’t so bad,” I thought as we ascended to our cruising altitude, and I settled back to enjoy the flight.

That’s when it got bumpy.

Turbulence was so bad it felt like we were on a roller coaster for awhile. Worse still, the captain wouldn’t let the flight attendants out of their seats for the beverage service. I wanted my bloody mary!!!

About halfway there things calmed down, and I was able to breathe again. I got my drink – free of charge, even – plus a bag of peanuts and pretzels. Thank you, Southwest. The last hour was completely smooth, and I actually started to enjoy the whole experience. It was dusk as we descended into Vegas, and the lights were just coming on. I saw the Luxor and a few other neon-bathed hotels. And then we were on the ground.

I met Tara in the baggage claim area, and we embraced with our usual fervor. I wished her a Merry Christmas and we kissed for awhile. Stopped for a quick bite to eat and then left Vegas for the long 4-hour drive to Ely. That was uneventful; there were no strange lights in the sky, but we did pull over at one point to look at the stars. There was no moon and the sky was clear; all I can say is, wow.

It was damn cold, too. 13 when we reached her house around 10:30. It felt great to walk through the door again; when I left on September 11th I didn’t even know if we were going to pursue a relationship. Now we’re practically inseparable and I love it! We settled in next to her Christmas tree and exchanged gifts…what a blast that was! It’s so nice having somebody special to share the holiday with. I love everything she got me, but just being there was the greatest gift of all.

Tara didn’t have to work on Monday, so we spent the morning lounging in bed and watching movies. She made us scrambled eggs and green chili gravy (yum!!) with tortillas, which we also ate in bed. Talk about a decadent morning. I didn’t want to leave, but eventually we got up. Took a walk, relaxed at her place some more, and then drove out to visit her grandparents for awhile. They are very nice people, friendly and warm and welcoming. I like them a lot. I also got to meet her sister Maggie. A little after 5 we drove back into town and met up with some people at Racks for Monday Night Football. Maggie was there, along with Tara’s youngest sister Jessie, Jessie’s boyfriend Arturo, and another friend named Taylor. Oh, and then Tara’s dad showed up. We all had a good time and enjoyed delicious greasy bar food. I apologize to my body for that, but whatever. We left about 7:30, made a quick stop at the grocery store, then back to Tara’s place, where we crashed early.

She has to work most of this week, so we kissed goodbye and she left around 7. I’m enjoying coffee and watching a movie and just generally kicking back and relaxing. She’s going to pick up lunch for us, and this evening I’m cooking her dinner: my oughtta-be-famous chicken cacciatore. Role reversals be damned, it all feels pretty domestic and I’m kinda digging it.

This visit is off to a fantastic start, and I’m loving every minute of it. There may not be any snow in the forecast, damn it, but otherwise it’s perfect.

Catch ya later!

I Will Not Think of Buddy Holly

by

29

Love makes you do crazy things.

Case in point: last night I booked airline reservations. I’ll be flying into Vegas on Christmas day to spend eight days with Tara. Big deal, you say? Trust me…it’s HUGE. When my sister-in-law, Esther, saw the post announcing this on Tara’s Facebook wall, she wrote:

“WAIT!! Did you say he’s FLYING into Vegas?????? FLYING??? You got him to FLY??! Now see…..that’s Love, he hates flying!! I’m so excited :))”

I rest my case.

I haven’t flown on a metal death trap…err, airplane…in more than ten years. We’re talking pre-9/11 here, folks. Back in the days when you didn’t have to remove your shoes and could carry liquids on board and people could meet you right at the gate. I might have actually had a box cutter or two in my carry-on, now that I think about it. And nobody batted an eye at the Guns & Ammo magazine I was reading during the flight. Times sure have changed, huh? How I long for those carefree, halcyon days of my youth…

Trying not to think about how much these things weigh... (Courtesy of ethix.org)

It’s not that I’m afraid of flying, per se. I have no problem with flying! It’s the falling-out-of-the-sky part that troubles me. As long as the plane is airborne, it’s actually pretty fun. Keeping it airborne, though – that’s the tricky thing, right? I wrote about it here a while ago. The mechanics of flight are just far too complex for a mere mortal such as myself to understand, or feel comfortable with. How much does an airplane weigh, anyway??

Err…right. These are the questions I’m not supposed to ponder. Especially once I reach the airport. Tara says all I need to do is have a couple of Bloody Marys before takeoff and I’ll be fine. I like this idea! I may have to order a couple more mid-flight, too. Just to be completely sure that my senses are dulled enough that I won’t panic over the thought that even clouds weren’t meant to float at 30,000′. As long as I grab an aisle seat for easy bathroom access, it’s a plan that’s just crazy enough to work.

I wasn’t always nervous about flying. I did a lot of it growing up; my first airplane flight took place when I wasn’t even a year old. I’ve flown through turbulence, thunderstorms, at night, alone…and I’ve always emerged on the tarmac of whichever destination just fine. As a kid, I loved flying! I always looked forward to the adventure. And then I became aware of my own mortality and it suddenly wasn’t quite as much fun anymore.

I have found that once you admit to being uncomfortable with flying, you have friends coming out of the woodwork to assure you how safe it is, comparatively speaking. They trot out statistics like crazy. One friend on Facebook said I was more likely to be killed by a donkey than in a plane crash, and when I questioned the validity of that statistic, another person sent me a link verifying it. I guess this information is meant to soothe me, but it’s not like I hang out around petting zoos very often either. You can bet your ass (pun intended) that the next time I do, though, I’ll have a few Bloody Marys in me. As well-intentioned as these folks are, all they’re doing is giving me a complex about even getting out of bed in the morning. Who knew that simply going about your daily routine could lead to DEATH?! I love my down comforter. Why should I leave its warm, cozy safety??

Who knew this cute little fella was such a dangerous beast?! (Courtesy of junglewalk.com)

(Right. Because my girlfriend doesn’t live here yet, and it’s not nearly as enjoyable an experience being alone in a bed. Fine! I’ll get on the damn airplane already!!).

The argument that really chaps my hide (or would if I were a cowboy) is the ol’ “it’s more dangerous driving in a car than flying in an airplane.” True though this statistic may be, it’s flawed. For one thing, there are a lot more automobiles on the road at any given moment than airplanes in the sky, so of course from a numbers standpoint this is so. And here’s the deal: if you’re involved in a car crash, a lot of times you can walk away without so much as a scrape. If a plane goes down, though, chances are there won’t be enough Band-Aids in the world to put you back together again in one piece.

I’m just sayin’…

It’s all a moot point, anyway. I am getting onto that airplane in December and I will fly to Nevada to be with Tara, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact that she is telling me to “man up already.” The idea of staying with her for an extended period over the holidays is much too enticing to pass up. I’ll get to meet her dad’s side of the family, her friends, her sisters…and just spend a whole lot of quality time together. It’ll be cold. It could very well snow. And it’ll be romantic as hell. Wild horses couldn’t hold me back.

Wild donkeys, on the other hand…

An Ely Good Time

by

28

Earlier this summer, I embarked upon a road trip across the country. It was a fantastic journey, filled with sights and sounds and new experiences, and it changed my life. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to top it, let alone a mere two months later.

But I did. My trip to Ely was better.

Then again, I had somebody very special waiting for me on the other side. That makes all the difference in the world.

If I Had A Bucket List…

I’d be able to cross off no fewer than three items on this trip. But more on that later.

I already wrote about my drive down to Ely and the first night there. Did I mention the incredible sense of excitement that built up with each passing hour as the gap between us shrank? We were both giddy with anticipation. It tripled for me once I crossed the Nevada state line. There is no better feeling than knowing you are just a few hours away from seeing somebody special to you. I wish I could bottle that build-up juice and sell it on the open market. The world would be full of anticipation junkies.

So. Thursday, after lounging around Tara’s house in the morning, I drove to her office in town and met her for lunch. I got to meet her coworkers, who were friendly and welcoming, and hung out in her office while she finished up some business. She looked pretty cute sitting behind that desk being all official. When she was done, we stopped at Economy Drug in downtown Ely for lunch at an old-fashioned soda counter that looked like it was straight out of the 50s. Probably because it was straight out of the 50s. Tara and her mom had hyped up a drink called an Ironport, a soda that is similar to root beer but a little sweeter and spicier. It was pretty damn good! We then drove around Ely for awhile, Tara pointing out the various sights. I have to say, I was pretty impressed with the town. Downtown is quaint and old-fashioned looking, with a little bit of neon glitz mixed in for contrast. This is Nevada, after all. The surrounding mountains provide a rugged backdrop. Tara had to go back to work for a few hours, so I took a drive a few miles east to a spot called Cave Lake, where I wandered around for a bit before returning to her house. I tried to take a power nap – I had gotten very little sleep the previous two nights – but I was too wound up with excitement. Around 3 PM Tara came home, and asked if I was ready for some four-wheeling. I’d always wanted to ride an ATV, so I eagerly climbed on board behind her and off we went, traversing a series of dirt trails in the hills around Ruth. What a rush! The wind in our hair, bumping and bouncing over rocky terrain. We switched places and I got to drive for a bit. Bucket list item # 1 – complete! We checked out the local copper mine, then sped up Garnet Hill to search for garnets and take in the breathtaking, 360-degree view. “I wish I could freeze this moment in time,” I told Tara, and what do you know…I guess I did.

We rode back home, and after a mishap involving a lost phone – Tara had dropped it somewhere on our adventure, and amazingly retraced our route and was able to find it – she cooked chimichangas and baked pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Her friend Ray joined us for dinner, and he is quite the character. Real nice guy. He left, Tara and I got cozy on the couch, and my first full day in Ely came to a close.

Ladies & Gentlemen, Our Cruising Altitude is 10,000′

Friday morning we headed east to Great Basin National Park, a little over an hour away from Ely. Our fist stop was Osceola, a ghost town and former mining camp. We walked around an impressive little cemetery on a bluff, and drove over a rocky dirt road through what was left of the town before meeting up with the highway again. After a stop for lunch at a little bar and grill in Baker, we headed into Great Basin. Unlike many of the national parks I’ve been to, there is no admission charge to get in. We stopped at the visitor’s center and then took a 90-minute guided tour of Lehman Cave, a spectacular underground cavern of stalactites and stalagmites. The cave was a cool 50 degrees, and Tara and I were the only ones without jackets, but we managed to keep each other warm during the tour. I loved holding her hand – not just there, but wherever we walked. That’s the type of simple but affectionate gesture that is missing from my life.

Following the cave tour, we drove up and up…and up…until we were suddenly at 10,000′ elevation. The view up there was remarkable! We then took a hike on the Alpine Lakes Loop Trail, a 2.7-mile jaunt past rolling fields and stands of Quaking Aspen and fir trees, with majestic Wheeler Peak looming in the distance. We stopped at both Stella and Teresa Lakes, and saw a couple of deer along the way. I will admit, the first part of the hike was strenuous; it wasn’t that steep, but at 10,000 feet you have to struggle to fill your lungs with oxygen. We took frequent stops and drank plenty of water along the way. I’m used to hiking alone; having somebody to enjoy the scenery with was pretty nice.

Afterwards we drove home, and Tara made us another fantastic dinner. Homemade beer bread, salad, ribeye steaks, and these fantastic sauteed mushrooms that I am so going to have to make myself. We ate dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed, exhausted.

Jealous, Dirty Harry?

Saturday was more of a leisurely day, but still full of fun. We drank coffee and sat on Tara’s deck, enjoying the morning sunshine and quiet, before heading into town to check out the farmer’s market and Renaissance Village. It’s nothing like the acres of tents and produce stands I’m used to at home, but the few tents and buckets of fresh fruits and vegetables just screamed small-town charm. I ended up buying a jar of pickles. We were hungry by that point, so we headed to Rack’s Bar & Grill (once owned by her dad) for burgers, and shared a basket of fried pickles that were really damn good. After lunch we went back to her house, where we took the quad out again, and that is when I crossed item # 2 off my bucket list.

I shot a gun.

Not just any gun – a Ruger 9-mm semi-automatic pistol with a twelve-gauge clip. Oh. Hell. Yeah.

I’ve never been a gun person, but had always been curious and wanted to take a shot. Literally. So Tara took us out to a spot a few miles from her house, set up a few cans to shoot at, gave me a quick lesson on how to use the gun, and then handed it over to me. I surprised myself by not only managing to hit my targets a few times, but by actually taking out three cans in a row, one after another, at one point. Sweet! It was a real adrenaline rush and I felt all sorts of studly. I see the appeal now.

When we were finished shooting we drove through town and out to a rock formation on the outskirts of Ely called The Gap. Along the way it started to rain, and I experienced what Tara had told me about countless times before: when it rains in the high desert, the sweet smell of the sagebrush perfumes the air all around you. It’s an incredible aroma. We had planned to take the Ghost Train tour – a ride aboard a steam locomotive – but the Ely Depot had just changed to a fall schedule and the train we wanted wasn’t running. Well, it was, but two hours later and $44 more, so we decided to skip that and spend a quiet evening back at Tara’s house. We lay entwined on the couch, watching a couple of movies, and the evening was romantic as hell. After leftovers and Bloody Marys it was getting late and, because I was getting up early the next morning, we went to bed. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. We both read for awhile, and then switched off the lights. I lay there in the dark a long time, my arm draped around her, not wanting to let go and fall asleep because I knew when I woke up, it would be time to leave.

But I did. And it was.

I Feel The Need. The Need For Speed. 

I did not want to leave Tara; every fiber of my being screamed at me to stay. But I couldn’t. Reality intruded and demanded I get into my car and drive away, but not before a sweetly tender embrace and a promise to see each other again soon. I pulled away from her house, waved goodbye, and made the lonely drive through downtown. It was 39 degrees, the wind was blowing, and it started to rain. I pulled over across the street from the Hotel Nevada, brightly lit against the predawn darkness, feeling the rain on my skin and wishing so badly I could turn around and go back to her.

So many emotions…

(And did this really just happen yesterday? Did I hold her in my arms and kiss her a mere 29 hours ago? Already it feels like an eternity).

I gassed up my car, pulled onto the highway, and watched Ely disappear behind me. Tried to take my mind off the sad fact that such a fantastic trip was over in the blink of an eye by listening to Built To Spill as loudly as I could. Once the sun rose, on one particularly solitary stretch of road, I pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. Driving 100 mph was the third item on my bucket list. I hit 102, and have the picture to prove it.

The long ride home sucked. I knew it was going to be hard, but I truly wasn’t prepared for exactly how difficult it would be. Every passing minute took me approximately 1.25 miles farther from Tara, and when I crossed the Idaho border I felt a pang in my chest. We were no longer in the same state. God, I feel pathetic writing all this! Can’t help it, though. She’s gotten to me in a big way. I’m crazy about her.

And I get that our situation is far from ideal. She’s 840 miles away. On the plus side – she’s 840 miles away. A little more than a 12-hour drive, close enough to make the occasional visit, even on the spur of the moment. This is my glass-is-half-full side saying it could be a lot worse. She might live in Fargo. Or Birmingham. No offense to either of those places, but I like Ely a lot better. Plus, her goal is to move out here. I know that it won’t happen for awhile, maybe even a year or longer.

But you know what I think? Finding a real connection with somebody is difficult. Tara and I click in a way that feels incredible. We have a long past and a ready-made foundation from which we could build upon. A mutual respect and admiration for one another. And a hell of a lot in common, including a few things that surprised me. I think the sky’s the limit, and anything is possible should we choose to take that step.

I, for one, am no longer afraid.

And in 37 days, she is flying up here for another visit. We’ll be staying with her mom (hi, Tracy!) in Seattle for a few days and attending a three-day music festival. We’ve already purchased our wrist bands and have our calendars penciled in. I’m excited as hell to see her again.

Nevada landscape in the evening sun. I was maybe 50 miles from Ely here.

At long last! And yes, I now know what a Bristlecone Pine looks like.

Downtown Ely is pretty charming!

"The loneliest road in America" passes through Ely. I can believe it!

The Ruth Pit copper mine in the hills above Tara's house.

Tara and I, aboard her four-wheeler atop Garnet Hill.

Cemetery in the ghost town of Osceola.

Osceola ghost town.

Lehman Cave, Great Basin National Park.

Loved the shield formations in Lehman Cave.

Stella Lake, Wheeler Peak in background - Great Basin N.P.

Tara's ATV. So much fun!

Hell. Yeah. Major testosterone moment in my life.

The Gap, outside Ely. No, it's not a clothing store.

Rain on the Nevada plain brings out the sweet smell of sagebrush.

This wasn't me. I only hit 102. Such an amateur, huh?

East Ely Railroad Depot.

Historic Hotel Nevada in downtown Ely. A side of glitz with old-fashioned charm.

Surreal Moments in White Pine County

by

16

Yesterday I experienced one of the most surreal moments of my life.

A few minutes past 7:00, just as the sun was sinking behind the Nevada mountains, I pulled up to the curb outside Tara’s house. She was there to greet me, and we hugged each other tight and kissed hello. You have to understand, for years now I’ve read about her house and seen pictures of it, but never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined I’d actually be staying here. Seriously, there was no conceivable scenario in the world that I could think of that would land me here.

Except for one, it turns out. :)

Even now, writing this entry in her house and enjoying a cup of coffee while she is at work is just…bizarrely cool. We’re meeting up for lunch (I’m going to meet her coworkers – a little nervous about that!) and she’s hoping to get off early. I’m really excited to check out downtown Ely – from what I saw when I passed through last night, I was impressed. Seems like a cool little town. I don’t have any photos to share yet, because there’s no wireless connection for me to use my laptop - I’m borrowing Tara’s for the time being. Out here in the sticks, the internet runs s…l…o…w.

My day began at 5 AM when my alarm went off. An hour later I hit the road. It was a strange feeling to be traversing the very same stretch of highway I drove two months ago, only going in the opposite direction. I remember what a novelty Idaho was in June and July. Now? Not so much. Once I hit Twin Falls I turned south, and Nevada wasn’t too much farther. As remote and desolate as I found Montana and Wyoming to be, Nevada was even more so! Just a straight and lonely two-lane highway surrounded by sagebrush and rocky outcroppings. I wondered how many bodies were buried out there. I also wondered how close Area 51 was. And, my speedometer hit 93 mph at one point. OK, I was passing a semi, but still. You can get away with that out here. When I entered White Pine County, I grew excited. I was getting closer by the minute! The scenery, while not as green and lush as back home, was still a sight to behold. Finally, after 13 hours on the road, I was there.

Tara gave me a tour of her house and fixed us up some Bloody Marys using a bottle of pepper vodka I had brought with me from Washington. I had never had a decent Bloody Mary until I met her…she knows how to do ‘em up right, lemme tell ya. Good stuff. We sat on her front porch with our drinks and talked, but the evening was growing cold, so we didn’t stay out there long. Ely is at 6400′ elevation and you can really feel that chilly mountain air! It was 41 this morning. Meanwhile, back home we’re having a heatwave. The timing of this trip couldn’t have been better. Another thing about Ely (or technically Ruth, where Tara lives)? It is so damn quiet I can’t get over it. It’s a good thing, just…different. After we finished our drinks she drove us out to the middle of nowhere so we could look at the stars. The moon was a little bright, but they were still plentiful and fantastic. It was pretty romantic, despite the chill.

We came back home, and then we…

Well. Some details should remain private. Let’s just say it feels really good to be here with her. If the rest of my time here is as good as the first few hours, then I know I’m going to return home a different person.

This’ll be my only post from Nevada. We’re going to be too busy having fun the next few days for me to think about the blog, so I’ll catch you up with all the details next week!

The 15th State

by

31

I am getting my Griswold on…again!

This is, to put it mildly, a surprising turn of events. A few weeks ago, I never would have dreamed I’d be hitting the road again this year. Especially for such a compellingly unexpected reason.

It’s all about a girl, you see.

A girl whom I have known for nearly nine years. We first “met” in January, 2003 – a lifetime ago for both of us. Ahh, the wonderful world of blogging! Over the years we became friends. We got to know each other intimately – sharing our deepest secrets, our darkest desires. You can’t know somebody for so long without developing attachments to that person…it’s just not possible! I care about her deeply, and she feels the same way about me. You know what’s really cool? I’ve known her mom for just as long! In fact, her mother (Tracy) was one of the first people to subscribe to my blog, and has been a longtime supporter of mine. She was the first one to finish reading my book, No Time For Kings - and gave it a very positive review on Amazon. I count both Tara and her mom as close friends, and that’s gotta be pretty rare.

I first met Tara in person this past March. She has family in the area, and was in town for a visit. We went out to lunch, spent the afternoon deep in conversation, and then parted ways. I wondered if I’d ever see her again. I certainly didn’t expect to…when we said goodbye, I thought, well, that was fun! and what a great friend she is and too bad we can’t hang out together more. That alone would make a perfectly satisfying ending to many stories. Turns out it wasn’t our end, though.

Because there’s more to the story. That great friendship of ours? It’s evolving into something more. How much more remains to be seen. I’m trying not to think too much about anything (“trying” being the operative word here) because it’s scary…but scary in a good way, if that makes sense. All I know is, right now I feel pretty damn good. It’s been awhile, and I’d like to hold onto this feeling. It’s rather intoxicating.

I have to admit, I never saw this coming. And I still don’t know what is coming. Everything feels new and fresh, despite the fact that we’ve been in touch with one another for close to a decade.

So I’m rolling the dice and taking a trip to Ely, Nevada. Ely, of all places! I never thought I’d find myself in such an isolated, rural portion of the country. During my road trip this summer, I covered fourteen states. Nevada will be the 15th I’ve visited this year. I think that’s pretty amazing. And what a reason to go!

I’ve been warned that I might not have cell phone service in Ely. I pretty much had coverage everywhere I went in June and July, except for the remotest portions of the least-traveled highways in the most isolated portions of the great plains. Computer access is certainly not a given, so don’t expect a play-by-play like you had earlier this summer. I’ll try my best, but it’s quite possible I may be completely removed from civilization for the next five days, a fact that is hard for this very plugged-in 21st-century person to imagine. And when I do come back, will I be wearing a cowboy hat and boots and a newfound outlook on life?

I have no idea. All I know is, I’ve never done anything like this before. Tomorrow morning I am leaving very early – before the sun even rises – to drive 700+ miles to rural Nevada in order to spend a few days with a girl whom I am very fond of, but one who has never been more than a friend to me…until now. This feels like something out of a movie – a really cool romantic comedy. It’s all a great big gamble. One misstep, and our entire friendship could be in jeopardy, even though we swear to each other that no matter what, that won’t happen. I sure hope not. Tara’s very special to me, and the risk of losing that tight-knit bond is almost too much to bear.

But, the idea of not seeing this through…of missing out on something that could possibly be wonderful and amazing…is even harder to bear. Life is short, and happiness is difficult to come by. Trust me, I know.

So, let’s do this thing. I am all in…and excited to see what happens next. And you know what? This just feels right. I am amazed and comforted by that…and excited as hell.

Nevada, here I come!