Rain

Another extreme, and sometimes dangerous aspect of the trip was rain… lots of it. You wouldn't think the weather could get so wet and dreary during the Summer, especially in the desert, but there were Summers I can remember nothing but rainy weather, day in and day out, the trips were lessons in extremes. The first encounter with torrential rain came on the first year of the trip when we were traveling through Nevada on out way to Ely. During this time the Interstate highway system was still in development and most highways were small, winding and desolate. My dad was also fascinated and compelled to take dirt roads whenever possible, taking advantage of a little known shortcut or unseen part of the country. This was cause for concern from my mom who wasn't really excited about the adventure aspect of the trip, she just wanted to get there and get it over with. And, there was an unmistakable element of danger involved taking dirt roads, you were usually alone on the road, very seldom would you see another car on these side trips, and the roads themselves were not of the best quality, rough and treacherous. If something were to happen to the car on one of these dirt roads it would be a long walk back to any sort of services. However dad assured us through his experience that there was nothing to worry about and insisted that taking dirt roads were not only safe, but had a great and untold advantage over paved roads.

It had been raining a lot on the regular paved highway, which was bad enough, but dad was hell bent on taking this dirt road through the desert and shaving off a dozen or so miles. Mom of course protested but Dad had the final say (like the heater) and we turned onto this dirt road, which by now was mostly muddy gravel. Progress was slow on dirt roads, even when dry, but now the downpour was more torrential by the moment. To make matters even more exciting, lightening would tend to strike every few minutes and sometimes only a few yards from our car, resounding in a horrific clash of thunder. Dad re-assured us that lightening wouldn’t strike our car and gave some convoluted scientific reason why, that our tires insulated us from electrocution, which I took for granted was correct, but didn’t relieve anybody’s concern. The ground kept getting wetter and the puddles were getting bigger. We hit a water filled pot hole and bottomed out briefly, which resulted in a rare nervous reaction my dad, now slightly concerned for our situation for the first time since we entered the dirt road. We eventually came upon a puddle that not even Moses would chance to cross. Stopping the car dad got out to check the depth of the puddle, taking off his shoes and rolling up his pants he tested the puddle and discovered it nearly went up to his knee. The decision to turn around and go back was unanimous, but turning around was a bit of a problem for the time being, the road barely being wide enough for the car. Dad had to travel in reverse for about a mile to a section of the road wide enough to turn around. It then it took about 15 shifts back and forth the turn the vehicle in the other direction, like maneuvering in or out of a tight parking spot, and at one point the car was perpendicular to the road with a mere foot in either direction to nudge the car. A note: from that time on, Dad always took notice of available turn-around spots every half-mile or so, and announced them, whenever he took a dirt road after that.

Finally with great relief we made it back to the paved highway, mom was obviously seething with anger and had an "I told you so" look on her face, dad, as always took it in stride. The weather didn’t get any better and now it was starting to get dark, but the danger of being stranded in the middle of Nevada not being discovered for weeks was behind us and I looked forward to getting to the motel, and even thinking given this traumatic experience dad would be nice and spring for premium nights stay in a Holiday Inn instead of a cheap dump with no soda pop machine. We made it to Ely only to discover that this has been the worst storm in centuries and the flooding has contaminated all the clean water in the area, which meant no drinking water, no ice, no showers, and curiously, (which I never got a convincing reason) no Coca Cola. This deprived me and my mom of one of the few luxuries of the trips and mom became even more burning with resentment, which she displayed by being cooly silent. However, this disappointment seemed to delight my dad and he took advantage of our misfortune by reminding us that it was basically our fault and responsibility that we were dependent on such comforts as Coca Cola and decent food, while he was perfectly content sacrificing these luxuries. Dad communicated this with a subtle smile and self-satisfied attitude that can only be described as mean. Strangely, the flood didn't affect the beer supply in Ely and he teased us further by flagrantly ordering cold beer while we were forced to drink milk or canned juice. The beer intensified this sadistic behavior for the rest of the evening, and the next day was tense and quiet between my mom and dad. But dad always seemed to be completely clueless to the gravity of the situation and the minor misery it caused, never realizing that excitement and adventure for him was not necessarily enjoyable for the rest of the human race. Dad always looked back at this whole experience as being fun.