The Impossible Tahoe Turn and Burn, Day 4 - Part 2
The Impossible
Tahoe Turn & Burn is an 8 part series,
so be sure to start with Day 1
Once we made it back on the paved road, once again Hwy 50, The Loneliest Road in the US,
the trip began to feel a little normal again. Tripod set up in the passenger seat shooting the long highways ahead, good grooves playing, nothing but sunshine and blue skies with those clouds you only see in the desert.
Then up ahead, about halfway between us and the mountains miles ahead, there was a car on the shoulder, hazards flashing. We decided to stop and see if they needed help.
The shoulder on this highway isn't much, not enough for a full car width before it drops sharply. This being the case, they were parked halfway out in the road but being visible from so far away, easy to avoid. Inside were four people who looked like they'd been stuck with a flat on the loneliest road in the US for hours. They had. There was a spare tire, but no lug nut key, specific to the vehicle. They had phone service and had called a friend who was now on the way, but were happy to talk to anyone.
Josh offered them a beer from our stash and two of them happily said yes. Cool place to drink a beer, even if you are in a jam. One of the guys noticed the Viva Terlingua sticker on the bumper of the Trail Boss and says
"Hey, I'm from Brewster County!"
Turns out that on the loneliest road, we not only run into someone and end up having a beer together, but he was also born and raised in in the same tiny town in Texas where our trip originated, good ol' Terlingua. And his cousin is a mutual friend of mine and Josh's. None of us could believe any of it, but there we were.
Taking the opportunity in the middle of nowhere with a great backdrop, I decided to shoot a quick shotgun video to the grins of our new friends and the result was one of the best in the series, if I do say so myself.
Then our Terlingua friend, Eric, hopped in with us for a ride to Fallon, NV where he would try to find a matching lug nut key, and as we drove we all joked and marveled at the coincidence of us meeting as we did.
From there, we were back on track, westbound still.
At some point, I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, the old familiar flaming knife, and almost instantaneously my neck became stiff, and it only got worse as the day went on. It was brought on for sure by the perfect combo of my usually really good memory foam pillow I travel with freezing up stiff in the cold and my sleeping pad deflating in the middle of our night up on the mountain. That rough night would now be with me possibly for the duration of the Burn homeward.
We pressed on, me now feeling every bump in the road, and we made it into Northern California, driving through to Donner Lake then over Donner Pass, and a few other stops Josh wanted to show me, then onto one of our key destinations:
Papa Ron's house where we'd take possession of Josh's late grandmother's heirloom cookie jar, the now infamous impetus for this trip.
After a round of our Texas beers, Papa Ron and his current wife Sherry offered us Bud Lights. I'm rarely if ever one to drink Bud Light, but I am never one to turn down the hospitality of others, so I graciously accepted and subsequently enjoyed the company, as one should. They then offered to us beds and showers for the night, which we also graciously accepted.
Before that though, Josh wanted to take me to Iowa Hill, a small off-grid community up in the mountains along a single lane paved road. A beautiful drive with some pointed stops along the way, then we pulled up to the Iowa Hill Store, which looked to be the only store of any kind in town. A warm fire was burning inside and the place smelled and looked like years of the same, soot covering the rocks and ceiling above and every Sharpie'd dollar bill that was stapled to the ceiling. Beers are not sold because they don't have a license, but are free with a donation to the cause. Now this is an method of operation I have used for years in many places, and I truly appreciate finding it occurring out in the wilds of elsewhere.
We had cheeseburgers with fries, made to order in their kitchen, and it was the best meal of the trip so far. Had another beer and brought in a bottle of Hacienda Sotol that we intended to share with the right folks we'd encounter on this trip, now about halfway done but mostly from our partaking having not seen too many others.
We didn't drink much because the road home was just a twisty as it was on the way up and now it was dark. My neck and shoulders stiff and on fire with shooting pain, it was not a pleasant trip, but I powered through it. We made one last stop to see an old friend of Josh's, a lovely woman he called Burnice, a nickname his dad had given her years ago.
We hung out for a bit, catching up and swapping stories while she baked cookies for her bunko group fundraiser, then we made our way back to Papa Ron's. I took a long hot shower, letting the it pound my neck for as long as I could stand it. I had taken a muscle relaxer earlier and it gripped me quick once I gently laid myself in the bed. Off to sleep and rest up for whatever the next day would bring.
