Our Country, The West

A lasso loop from Seattle to Portland, across eastern Oregon, down route 93 through Idaho and Nevada, across Nevada on 50, up Northern California on 16, 20 and 5, back to Wa(r)shington.

This is a section of our journal that I wrote after our sojourn in Carson City, Nevada.

On to Carson City. On and through that was. 'Twas only one stop we made in Nevada's capitol and that was to scratch Alfred's itch for a sight of the Nugget Casino's famed million dollar collection of raw, unprocessed gold. Behind thick, aquarium glass we found it -- a sparse display of curled, thin and flaky, shapeless pieces sitting on plastic shelves that dazzled our eyes for moments before we greedily asked: "Is this it?" We had wanted to see something bigger. Something cosmic. Perhaps a nugget the size of a boulder that had been hauled in as a wide load on two truck beds. Where was the vault? Surely a million dollar display would be locked up at night. And the private security guards? A hefty sum in dollars, but puny to the expectant, American eye. Unsatisfied, Alfred pushed on through aisles of old ladies pushing flashing buttons on the slot machines.

Stale smoke lingered in the air. I turned to face a woman -- a zombie of a woman -- gambling with her oxygen tank. A sleazy look from a guy at the nearest machine, and site of a woman clearly too strung out to be trying any more of her luck made me grab Alfred and bee line out of the there. Gold nothin'!

...Alfred reminds me I've forgotten about Reno, where Alfred's hopes of big gold began. "Let's stop in Reno," he had suggested. "It sounds better than Carson City." In retrospect, he had been right. But I realize now that it was nothing other than his mistaken notion about the Nugget Casino's whereabouts that took us there.

Approaching the city limit, we started to think about where we might exit. Naturally, there would be several exits of sprawl to pass before we hit the center of town, where I assume we wanted to be. However, immediately after the city limits sign, Alfred suggested that we exit. "No, no." I said sleepily, for I had just risen up from a nap. "This isn't the city. I can see it up ahead. We want to go downtown."

"But the nugget is here! There's the nugget!" Alfred pointed vociferously at the only tall building in a landscape of Wal-Mart esque warehouses. The Nugget Casino. Or The Nugget condiminiums. It was hard to be sure. "So what?" I asked.

"That's where the million dollar collection of raw, unprocessed gold is." Too groggy to understand Alfred's fixation on the nugget, I insisted that we go downtown. Clearly we did not want to exit there.

Downtown Reno was booming. "Welcome Bowlers" banners were draped across every street for the national women's bowling tournament. We parked by a small stream -- the first water we'd seen since the hotel faucet -- and got out to find dinner. On 4th Avenue and Virginia Street: Dogs and Drafts $1; towering windowless buildings; giant billboars with bulging women promising to meet you inside at the loose slots. "Here's the nugget!" Alfred exclaimed. "Maybe that wasn't it, afterall." We went in.

Though the entire front of the building was open to the street, The Nugget's main room remained dark and smoky, and the neon of slots stood out like it would on a moonless night. We had expected grandeur -- surely the casino lodging the million dollar gold collection would present it with opulance. Maybe the lobby is upstairs, we thought. We pushed through to the back of the room to a narrow, unpretentious, stairway, lined with faux wood panelling. At the first landing -- no grand lobby crowded with women wearing sparkling sequin ballgowns carrying champagne glasses and cavorting around the collection, just a men's room. On the second, landing -- no gold there, either. Just the women's room and the manager's office. Well, we'd at least use the bathroom. No gold at this nugget, and we left.

1. Thus I conclude now a few things about Nevada. When in Nevada you will search for gold, consciously or not.

2. However, when searching for the nugget you will find more than one.

3. People in Nevada gamble a lot.







These photos were taken with my medium format camera, a Bronica ERA, and perhaps detrimentally overexposed during their development. The folks at Panda Lab in Queen Anne were very sorry, and of course gave me the prints for free. You'll notice some awkward streaking and super saturation in a few. Generally, these are the ones that turned out best.

I also just learned that all color photography is developed digitally, and thus I can request dvds of my photographs and post them all to my blog. The limit in photos posted has only been due to my prior ignorance of this strange and somewhat disappointing fact.