Another week wandering but not lost

Day 28 of my epic road trip finds me parked in a Lowe’s parking lot in Reno, Nevada. I’m taking the “back road” back to Tucson, which means I am driving south on 395. Not one of my better decisions. I thought, oh, it will be so pretty and less traveled. Highway 395 is certainly both of those things. The terrain from Spokane, through Oregon, through a little slice of California, and now through a slice of Nevada has been breathtaking. In parts, I drove along a curvy two-lane road up the side of a cliff, looking down at a vast expanse of lake water (when I dared take my eyes off the road). Other sections of the drive cut across high-desert cattle country. Whenever I see cows grazing, I make my solemn vow: I will never eat you.

As far as less traveled, 395 is certainly that. There were many parts of the drive where I was the only car on the road as far as I could see, which was far, given the wide-open vistas of the high desert. Today is Sunday, so you’d expect most people with sense would be snoozing in bed, and I got an early start, but seriously, only car on the road. If I had missed one of those curves, my minivan would be entertaining fish at the bottom of one of those lakes. End of the epic road trip. You fail at life.

I enjoyed my solitude and tried not to think about what would happen if I blew a tire or had a heart attack. Nobody lives forever.

The main problem with my choice of travel route is the fact that the road goes through high desert. I should have realized this, but just looking at flat Google map did not show me that I would be driving over mountain passes higher than 5,000 feet in elevation. My head doesn’t seem to like higher elevation, or that is one of my current working theories, and my disequilibrium has been in full force on much of this trip through eastern Washington and Oregon. However, the other thing I don’t like is to be cold. And desert nights up here are cold.

Last night I arrived at my day’s destination, Burns, Oregon, which doesn’t have much to recommend it in terms of offering random parking on a side street on a Saturday night. I didn’t like the looks of the town much, so I kept going until I found a nice rest area, thanks to my new friends on iOverlander.

It started raining and kept raining most of the night. The temperature dropped to just above freezing. It was hard to stay warm, even with my little heating pad plugged into my dinky power station.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, but I have been fighting a cold for a few days. Is it a cold, or is it Covid? That is the question for this decade. I took a Covid test on Wednesday, which came back negative, but you never know. Covid is a sneaky virus.

The other thing that happens is that my memory foam mattress solidifies when it’s cold, so it feels like I’m sleeping on concrete. Who knew that was a phenomenon? Well, my housemate warned me, so some people know. I thought, how hard could it be? And I won’t be going anywhere where the temperature drops below 45°F anyway. Ha to both. It can be hard, and it gets effing cold in the desert at night.

So, what happens next? I’ve seen all the friends and family I could see (and who wanted to see me). I’ve tried to be a kind, respectful house guest, even when the hosts’ political views don’t jive with my own. I’ve eaten enough cheese and sugar to give my laboring heart a real workout. Many miles yet to go, so I hope my heart holds out a while longer.

I found my bottle of acetaminophen, but I can’t find my earbuds. You’d think after three weeks on the road, I would have figured out a routine. Nope. All I can say for sure is I brought way too much stuff with me, but I still can’t find the few important things I need. Oh well, at least I’m pain free while I talk to friends using my speakerphone.

Hope to see you next Sunday.