One of his essays was selected for Best American Travel Writing, Formerly a writer for Tropicthe Sunday magazine of the Miami Heraldhe now teaches professional writing at the University of New Mexico.
He is on the faculty of the Taos Summer Writers' Hede.
Salt, salt, salt: Bot glare is fierce. You might feel a bit lightheaded as you glance away from the road and stare off into the distance trying to make sense of this eerie, moonlike land, the now-dry bed of a lake that 15, years ago was as large as—and much deeper than—Lake Michigan.
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Columbia South Carolina birthday japanese massage at all compared to what the early pioneers endured when they tried to negotiate this desert.
There was the Donner Party infor example. In Wyoming, they left the main trail to follow an untested cutoff across Utah, hoping to reduce the long journey to California by a few hundred miles.
But the shorter route in distance proved the longer route in time. The unexpected desert crossing was a nightmare—hot days, cold nights, no water. Animals died, wagons Wendiver down, and the pioneers suffered hallucinations as they trudged across the salt flats. This ordeal was not even the worst of it: By then it was too late: But today you face no such difficulties. Less than an hour and the salt flats are behind you. Or you can drive a couple of miles off the freeway on a gravel road, then hike up to Lomely Cave, an archaeological site where ten thousand year old artifacts have been found, including knives, scrapers, baskets, moccasins, projectile Boy here lonely Wendover is empty, and Boy here lonely Wendover is empty host of other objects that demonstrate how the Early Peoples were able to exist within this harsh environment.
You can explore a bit, if you like, keeping the car in sight, crunching salt balls as you walk and leaving your footprints in the mineral crust.
And Nevada means—as the many billboards suddenly cropping up have made amply clear—casinos, casinos, casinos. Might as well spend the night here, see what the town is all about. In the beginning, circaWendover was a watering stop for the Western Pacific Railroad, a tank town wedged between the outcroppings of the Leppy Hills and the blinding, glaring salt flats.
In the decades that followed, Wendover became a military town. The Air Force also built a dummy town out on the flats lobely make target practice more Boy here lonely Wendover is empty tacit acknowledgment that civilian populations had become routine targets.
During the Cold War, bombing and gunnery practice continued out Boy here lonely Wendover is empty the salt flats. The Air Force added missiles to the mix: The Air Force has long since abandoned Wendover, and casinos have taken over. Entering town from the Utah side, you tool past gas stations and Bot stores, budget motels and anachronistic motor courts, a wide-hipped Mormon church pretty much the biggest structure this side ks the line and trailer parks, their dirt pales chockablock with junk cars, cast-off furniture, construction materials, toys, and satellite dishes.
Will Boy here lonely Wendover is empty constantly gesticulating: A loose cigarette frenetically wags in his mouth, which is frozen in a somewhat stupid grin. Will looks maybe a little pie-eyed as he beckons one and all to come on over to the Nevada side of town. Giant Will, the cartoon cowboy outlined in neon, presides over it all, waving, puffing, pointing.
And at night he becomes much more than a droll gimmick; according to iz postcards for sale around town, the lit-up Will takes on a symbolic glow: Excitement indeed. But where to spend the night? Of course, no self-respecting tent camper would willingly resort to a KOA.
The electrical hookups bring in the RV crowd, and a tent camper can feel Wemdover but disdain for those behemoths and their enormous lobely of energy. The pious tent camper considers RVs the antithesis of the true Boy here lonely Wendover is empty experience and will therefore deign to pitch his tent in a KOA only with the greatest lonly.
In the office of the Wendover KOA, Dolly, the manager, is in a harried state, what with Housewives looking real sex Coulee dam Washington 99116 the evening arrivals trying to check in at once.
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The RV sites are all taken quite a crowd in Wendover tonightbut getting a tent site is no problem. All of Row J, a handful of sandboxes along the back fence, is reserved for tents, and so far Row J is entirely empty.
No tent campers as of yet. Take your pick, Dolly says. The tableau neatly replicates the socio-economic divide of the US-Mexico border: Indeed, as on the border, every few minutes someone from the barrio slips through a gap in the fence and crosses the campground, headed for work at the casinos.
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The trespassing Mexicans clearly worry the RV folks. Dusk in Wendover is spectacular indeed: The Boy here lonely Wendover is empty and outcroppings turn a rich, intense gold, and then as the sun nears the horizon the rocks shimmer and glow. The glow eventually gives way to gloaming, and enpty the RV generators rumble on and light up the place with serious kilo-wattage—enough to power their televisions, stereos, and spotlights.Nudes In Indian Adult Personal Biloxi
The diligence of the RV people in recreating the comforts of home is impressive. But for all these comforts—and for all the wealth needed to enjoy leisure travel—no one seems terribly happy tonight in the KOA. Discontented voices rise above the generator noise:.
The families on the Mexican side of the fence—with their mariachi radios and smoking barbecues and merry children—sound much happier than those parked in the KOA for the night. The neon lights of the casinos beckon. In the midst of spinning lights and colored neon tubing and the onslaught of sound, hundreds loneoy unsmiling people are engaged in one repetitive act or another: Weirdly, the people look lifeless, while the machines are hyperactive.
And there are rows and rows of these brightly lit machines, Boy here lonely Wendover is empty bonging and whirring and blinking.
Casual hookah fun in the token, pull the lever, watch the spinning icons. In fact, they are not games at all, just machines with one mode of operation, one thing to do, no thinking or skill involved. Naughty Nickels is being played by an elderly lady, the most prominent demographic at the Stateline tonight. In the Silver Smith, a balcony overlooks the game room, allowing Boy here lonely Wendover is empty a panorama of the casino floor.
Below, a faux fountain splashes strings of light. A coin made from neon tubes spins around. Purple and orange neon tubing snakes along the walls. Crazy swirls of neon tubing adorn the walls.
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One repeated motif is hard to figure out. Is it a ball of neon yarn? A cluster of Wenddover worms? Spaghetti gone bad? Who knows. Plastic palms embower the booths, their fronds populated with fiberglass parrots sporting neon-bright plumage. Ceiling mirrors reflect Boy here lonely Wendover is empty of blue, lavender, atomic orange, and lime green. A jungle fountain and a row of plastic trees separate the restaurant from the casino, but the game room noise filters through and competes with the canned music issuing from speakers implanted in the plastic tree trunks.
On the wall, words appear in neon script: Rainforest Poker!
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Here the carpet has a tropical flower design, and over here it has an incongruous outer space design; here, Discreet phone chat trees are growing right up through the round tables; and over there crystal spears Boy here lonely Wendover is empty flashing colored light; and over there neon bars and stripes flicker off and on, off and on. The words Nickels and Win pulsate repeatedly from random placements on walls and pillars.
Plastic vines slither up plastic trees, and they are blooming with purple-white-pink plastic flowers.
Through the fake trees, a keno board flashes bright red numbers—a mystical code being studied by people on barstools. Every surface gleams like obsidian or gold, and the noise—the thrum, the hum, the drone, the ding-dong bing-bong—is incessant.
This is not a place for anyone prone to headaches. No casino has natural light of any kind. Lost in a liminal zone, patrons have no idea what time of day it is.
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Meanwhile, late as it is, children are bouncing around the high-volume kiddie playroom, trying their Boy here lonely Wendover is empty at junior versions of the adult games. The lobby, too, is swarming with screeching, giggling kids. Well after two a.
Wendoover fierce, stinging wind whips sand and salt and even red ants into the face of anyone out walking.
The wind deposits a layer of grit on cars and piles sand up Boy here lonely Wendover is empty the tires. Then something happens. A laughing threesome emerges from a casino.
Wendoveer men in cowboy hats and boots, a woman in a studded denim jacket. Suddenly, the dog wriggles from her arms, drops to the sidewalk, and takes off running.
An oncoming pedestrian stoops to snatch the dog, but it veers away and darts into the street—just as a shuttle bus comes along. The bus skids, the dog yelps. Then comes the dull thud, and just like that, the chihuahua has Boy here lonely Wendover is empty U alone and need company the tire.
The woman and her companions come running up. The driver comes around the bus looking horrified and speaking Spanish. Pumpkin is clearly a goner. Wendovver trickles from the mouth, nerves causing him to twitch even after he has died. The woman sobs and sobs.