States: 4 Days: 30 Miles: 14,407
I hadn’t expected to be writing another blog so soon. My plan for the next few weeks had me travelling through scenic highways, national parks, canyons, and deserts. I was expecting to write a summary blog with my experiences and leave it to the photos to tell the rest of the story. However; not for the first time this trip, I’m sure, something unexpected happened.
On leaving Las Vegas, I drove through Death Valley on my way to Yosemite. I’m pretty sure that the word ‘agape’ was invented for Death Valley. At the end of my day I looked at all my photos with disappointment, as none of them conveyed the vast and beautiful expanse of geography on display. It is possible that I was so impressed by Death Valley because I had expected it to live up to its name and be nothing but a barren wilderness. And it is. But such a beautiful one. I spent a lot more time than I had expected to, as every now and then I had to stop the car and simply stare for a few moments to try to allow my brain to take in what I was seeing. It was truly spectacular.
I then continued my longest yet (571 mile) drive to Midpines, outside of Yosemite. Three very laidback days later, I had given Ansel Adams a run for his money in the National Park and planned my next week of travel. On leaving Yosemite, the plan was to drive to Carson City for a stopover and then spend the next day driving Route 50 (one of my 100 places). Another overnight stopover in Ely, Nevada, would then see me on my way south to the canyon regions.
Aside (6): More Things I Have Learned So Far:
A Nissan Rogue car bipper will ‘bip’ any car within earshot. This makes finding your car in a multi-storey car park very difficult.
Tumbleweed is a real thing.
The Las Vegas Strip is not actually in Las Vegas.
Ely, Nevada, is pronounced Eley. Which is very confusing when that is also the name of your best friend, as you keep expecting to see him every time someone says “Ely”. Which is a lot. In Ely. Ely.
Route 50 was a great experience – if you like that sort of thing. On leaving Carson City, I had 320 miles of road between me and Ely, with only three towns in between – Fallon, where I stocked up on petrol and snacks, Austin, which could barely be called a town, although very pretty, and Eureka, which claimed to be “The Friendliest Town on the Loneliest Road in America”. A theory which I did not put to the test. The rest of the drive was nothing but road and space. On arrival in Ely, I googled where to eat in the small town. It was a toss-up between Racks Bar and Grill and the Cell Block Steakhouse. Racks won out, so off I went to grab a steak and a beer before retiring early ready for my drive to Bryce Canyon the next day.
Finishing up my dinner, I was surprised when a man walked across the bar and put his arm around me. As soon as I looked up, he withdrew his arm and, looking sheepish, said: “Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else!”. To which I responded, “That’s OK, you can hug me if you want.” And so he did. And a beautiful friendship was born. John (was his name) soon figured out that I wasn’t from around these parts and the second thing he said to me was; “Have you got a jacket? Yes? OK, you’re coming with us.”
From that point on, I became “The Girl John Kidnapped From The Bar” and was introduced as such to everyone I met. As John introduced me to his cousin Jill and a few other friends in the party, I began to ascertain that they were going to drive around town and look at the Christmas lights on display. Sounded like a nice thing to do, so I decided it couldn’t hurt to go with them for a while. After all – the only thing waiting for me was an empty motel room and an early night. I couldn’t quite figure out why John had made sure I had a jacket though. As we left the bar, the bar staff were very surprised that I was going with the group. Which put me on edge a bit – what was so weird about going around looking at Christmas lights!? It was fine, they reassured me, but apparently, I was going to freeze! Still not comprehending, I followed the group out to the car park.
And there, lined up on the car park, were half a dozen 'Side by Sides', decked out in Christmas lights, neon, and tinsel. Now I understood why I was going to freeze: we were going to be driving around in off-road vehicles. Which was great fun and a fantastically original way to spend a late December evening, with families coming out of their houses to watch us just as much as we were watching them.
I had already eaten at the bar, but I was having so much fun, that I joined John, Jill and co. for dinner. Over tacos, we discussed Ely and all the things that could be done there. Apparently, this being the one place that brothels were legal and not highly regulated, visiting a brothel was something that I simply had to do whilst in Ely. So, after second dinner, off we went! I have to say, I was not entirely convinced by this plan, but, never one to say no to an opportunity, along I went. I went to a strip club once in Bristol. I remember it being sad and a little torn at the edges. The brothel in Ely was very much the same. The lady behind the bar in her pyjamas and Ugg boots and the one lady on “Front of House” clearly a little disappointed that people had arrived (it was empty other than John and me). I think the emptiness also added to the sadness of the place. There was, however, one aspect that did cheer me up a bit.
Eighteen months ago, my two best friends, Eley and Lauren, got married (bear with me, it is related, I promise). I was Lauren’s Maid of Honour and as a present, Lauren bought us both matching blue silk dressing gowns adorned with peacocks (the colour scheme for the wedding). After a few minutes in the Ely brothel, it dawned on me that the lady showing me the tour of the house was wearing the exact same dressing gown in pink. I managed to snap a picture to send to Lauren, hoping that the lady didn’t see me taking a photo of her and get the wrong idea. Or any kind of idea for that matter…
I think its safe to say that John and I felt a little awkward being the only two people in a brothel, so in an attempt to give us enough time to finish our drinks whilst not having to engage too much with the, er, staff, John put some music on the Jukebox and attempted to teach me the two-step. Which I am not good at. But I can now say that I have danced the two-step. In a brothel. Next time I play ‘I Have Never’, I’m so going to lose…
I had an absolutely fantastic time with John and his friends and was sad to be leaving the next day. So I didn’t.
The next day, after a hearty brunch with Jill, John took me out to the shooting range and taught me how to shoot… wait… I wrote it down… a 22 rim fire pistol, a 380 automatic pistol, a 22 rim fire rifle, a 204 centre fire rifle, a 20 gauge shotgun, and a 9mm pistol. I’m not great on target (but apparently consistent) with a handgun, but I’m a crack-shot with a rifle! Not something I’d ever done before, but I have to say, it was great fun. Especially with the rifle, as I hit target after target without missing once. Smug again.
We then went to see the Charcoal Ovens before chilling out with some Salted Caramel Whisky, which was so delicious it was a little dangerous. A few more drinks at Racks, then we met up with Jill at another bar, where a lovely lady taught me how to play shuffle-board, and I finally conquered the two-step with John! Apparently, I am a much better dancer when I close my eyes. No snarky comments please. And ended the evening visiting Jill’s parents in Ruth.
Spending the day with John and Jill was so much fun. Before I left the UK, everyone said that I would meet amazing people along the way and have adventures and make new friends, but up until Ely, that had not really happened. Everyone kept pretty much to themselves and were polite and sometimes chatty, but not overly friendly – unless they wanted something. But everyone in Ely was so friendly and welcoming, I was genuinely sad to leave after only two days. I have even promised to visit in the summer (I can cut down from Idaho) so that we can catch up.
Not only did John and Jill treat me like a long lost friend, they wouldn’t let me pay for a thing (despite my protestations), they put me up in a lovely home for the night, taught me to shoot, showed me around the area, introduced me to family, and bought me a farewell gift (a Yeti Mug, which is my new best friend on the road!). I can honestly say it has been a long time since I have met such lovely people and I am so glad to have been kidnapped from a bar by a strange American bloke.