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Nevada Desert Towns

Nevada is chiefly known for what I document on a regular basis: The two main centers of gambling in the United States. But an even deeper passion of mine lies in the Nevada desert, on the highways between Reno and Las Vegas. Towns, some living and some figments of the past, pepper the landscape. These towns are what used to be the life blood of this great state. The mining towns that heaved up thousands of tons of earth to establish the silver state. The mining towns where tumbleweed bounces through the streets. Where some of the grandest buildings of their time still stand. In the spaces between the active hands of Nevada is the heart of the state.

Recently I visited the old ghost town of Rhyolite, and the dying town of Goldfield. In the posts below are my short chronicles of those towns.

Desert Towns, Nevada.

Rhyolite

The desert slowly reclaims Rhyolite. The town once supported a thriving community and now it sits alone in the desert. The Nevada Historical society take care of in however it can. The stone buildings are all that remain. Being inside them is like walking through an archaeological dig site. Columns lie on their sides, foundations are cracked, bricks are strewn, few clues remain. But every so often as I walked inside a building I would get a flash of what once was.

The bank, clean save for a fine dust on the floor has people milling about inside. It's dark and cool inside. A woman walks with her husband to the teller. The owner of the bank sits in his office above the main floor looking down with pride. And suddenly I'm back in the glaring heat. The walls white with time and sunlight. The ground is covered with dirt, brick, stone slabs and desert plants.

Rhyolite, Nevada.

Goldfield

A handful of businesses remain open on the main road through town. Houses further out from the road are in various states of decay. Some have for sale signs that optimistically list a phone number. Others sit vacant, open, and empty. Shops are closed. The town is listed as a ghost town in most modern atlases. Those residents who remain stare blankly as tourists gawk and pose in front of what used to be a thriving community. The Goldfield Hotel, once the largest in the West, sits boarded up. The schoolhouse rots slowly as repair efforts are made in vain.

Further out, where no tourist dare venture, are the mines. A range of hundreds of mounds. Each one a mine. Each one fenced off with barbed wire. The earth in this area is stained yellow and red by what was pulled up from below.

The town of Goldfield, Nevada.

Nineteen.

Doom Table, The letter "F", and The Great Spoon Shortage (AKA Food Service I)

The great posts for the length of one! I will tell of three things I found very amusing during my second day of work at the Club Fortune diner busing tables. Chances are none of this will interest you. But it should.

Doom Table.

The corner booth was filled. Three children. Two booster seats. Half an hour. It looked as if someone had walked in and roundhouse kicked the people's plates. And who put ranch on the kids menu?! I ask you because it was an interesting choice for children. About the only thing I'd trust a kid with is a sandwich or toast.

But specifics! I approached with caution and found the crayon drawings adorable, until I realized they spread onto the table. The jam container was upended, and grape and strawberry jelly packets were everywhere (reminiscent of playing cards when someone thinks they're clever and says "want to play 52 card pickup?"). The ranch (Why did they even have this much ranch I ask.) mini cups were all over the place. Most seemed to be hiding. In fact one was upside down under a pile of napkins, as if it was some sort of gooey landmine. And the crayons. Crunched, broken, twisted, strewn. Once I cleaned this table I took a step back to admire my work and found a silverware graveyard beneath the table. That and more jam.

The Letter "F"

As anyone who knows me well enough will tell you "That kid could get lost in a hallway, with arrows, and a sherpa." I have a thing with left and right and when putting down silverware I find that I often put the fork on the wrong side of the napkin, (not a life ending mistake, but I take pride in my work) the wrong side being the right side. So I with my mighty powers of observation noted that printed on the napkins are the words "Club Fortune Casino" or something like that. The point here is: the "F" in "Fortune" is on the left hand side. And I therefore remember to place the fork on the side with the corresponding "F".

The Great Spoon Shortage of 2008.

The morning rush swept in like a tidal wave. People demanding tomato juice, hash browns, refills and various other things. Apparently among the things they demanded, spoons were high on the list. So slowly, ever so slowly, we ran out of spoons. Without spoons I felt as if the whole operation would crumble. Someone would complain "The soup goes directly through my spoon!" And then in a horrible shill voice "Wait! This isn't a SPOON! It's a FORK!" At which point others would realize that they too had no spoons. And they would promptly have their minds freed of The Matrix and wake up in the real world where machines have taken over the world! But, thankfully, we got some spoons in the dishwasher ahead of schedule.

I'm trashed, but that's okay.

I'm cut, I'm bruised, I'm sunburnt, I'm dirty, I'm tired, my truck has no front left tire, I have no money, I have no gas, I only get five or so hours of sleep tonight, I was yelled at for being where I wasn't supposed to be (twice), I was bitten by mosquitos...but

I'm okay.

Because today rocked. And I have photos. They will be up tomorrow (after three, because I work).

Come visit me if you have some crazy spare time or something. I work over at Club Fortune as a busser. Tomorrow my shift is from 7:00am to 3:00pm. I won't actually be able to talk much, but you can see me clean tables like a crazy person!

Goodnight. I'm going to pass out.

Food Service

Is a suprisingly complex operation. I mean if i'd thought about it I would have realized it. But a lot goes into it. It's pretty fast paced and keeps me moving. Blah blah blah. I like my job.

I'm headed to Goldfield NV tomorrow. I will be taking mad photos.

And just because this thought fits nowhere else: Damnit Joss! Why, Why do you have to torture me with this...this HORRIBLENESS!?

All That Glitters

Last night my dear friend Alex and I explored much like we would normally. We found a place. We walked around and for reasons unknown to us, but perhaps to someone else, our way was not obstructed by gate, lock or door. We found ourselves in the center of a forgotten mystery. And in the hours that passed we slowly pieced together what we had found. Maps of Arizona, shelves of chemicals, kilns of varying sizes, rocks, books, a bed, generators, antique furniture. Words to describe our treasure are as follows, given to me to post by that friend Alex. He sent this to me in the early hours of the next morning for all of you to read:

"When you wander the streets in Las Vegas, there are certain things you just don't expect to find, but you often do. You don't expect the condom lying at your feet near a busy intersection. You don't expect buildings from your childhood in the middle of the city to be randomly demolished. You don't expect the sweet lady who gives you 15 dollars when you really need the money for food. And you just don't expect the phrase "all that glitters is gold" to somehow become slightly more relevant to your own life.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is: wander the streets of the Las Vegas valley a bit more. Every once in a while something interesting happens. Like stumbling upon an abandoned gold smelting operation.

I sure as hell wasn't expecting what seemed like a cement mixing facility, and then a pottery facility, and then a furniture restoration operation, and then… Fuck it, I didn't expect any of it. Gold, directions on do-it-yourself gold extraction, enough chemicals to kill every horse in a medieval army… I'm sure if you tried hard enough, you could re-invent Greek fire in this place.

What made me happiest was the simpler aspects of things: an unremarkable man's photo album (I mean no offense) and a random mining and smelting operation that was once going on right in the middle of our wonderful city (*cough*)… And not super-industrial, either!

The mood was set by several surprising things being unlocked, and the occasion was almost ritualistically sealed sometime around moonrise.

And I strangely find myself wondering after all this: I wonder if there is gold on the moon….

Oh, and remember kids: all that glitters is gold! Or something that could make it, anyways!"

And with those words, photographs.

Update tomorrow.

I'm requesting that you tune into your favourite local blog tomorrow (I was referring vainly to myself) for an absolutely mind blowing blog. Here's a hint: All that glitters. I'm asking that Alex (my partner in doubleplus ungood actions) submit a block of text to be included in tomorrows post if he feels up to it. I'd post tonight but I feel particularly unable to write.

Tomorrow's post will also come with some really beautiful images. I'd like to say that what we found today was one of the most amazing secrets I've ever had the pleasure of uncovering.

I'm paranoid enough to regretfully inform you that the location of said discovery is for trusted individuals only.

In great anticipation, I take my leave.