Travel Journalism

            The deep, guttural vroooom of the motorcycle’s engines penetrated the afternoon silence.  Even though I was inside, the noise became almost deafening as dozens of bikes pulled into the parking lot of the Alturas Bar and Nightclub (1044 E. 4^th Street, 775-324-5050).  Not knowing what to expect, I felt momentary fear as the bikers entered the bar.  To my surprise, the new arrivals were carrying bags and boxes filled with food and toys. 

            “We just made our holiday pick-up,” said biker Roy Davies, 46.  “All of this stuff will go to various charities in the area to help out impoverished families at Christmas.”

            This isn’t what I was expecting when I decided to investigate Reno’s biker bars.  I had envisioned a rough-and-tough bunch of tattooed men and women dressed in skintight leather.  Instead I found an interesting cross-section of people, with bikers from coming almost every walk of life.  The Alturas is a small place, but rather upscale and very clean.  T-shirts of every kind are tacked to the ceiling forming a colorful tableau overhead.  A pool table stands near the back, something that turns out to be a staple of every biker bar I visit.  Unfortunately, the Christmas bikers don’t stay long. Bad weather is brewing outside and they all dash off on their bikes before it starts raining.  Left alone with bartender Lisa De Vries, 28, I ask her to tell me a biker story or two.  I don’t get much out of her.                                                                    

            “What happens in the Alturas, stays in the Alturas,” De Vries said, dismissing me.               

            Heading over to PJ’s & Co. (1590 South Wells Ave.), I find a different atmosphere entirely.  A cozy little bar and restaurant, PJ’s isn’t the average biker joint.  They’re just as well known for their good food as they are for the “bike night” they hold every Wednesday.  The parking lot, closed to automobiles on these evenings, fills up with bikes of every kind, from Vespas to Harleys.

            “People just wander around admiring each other’s bikes,” says bartender, Bonnie Bernal, 45.  When asked what she thinks about the biker crowd, she shrugs and smiles broadly.

            “They’re great tippers and really good people,” Bernal said.  “In fact, the owner of this place is a biker himself.”  Since it’s a Saturday, not a Wednesday, I decide PJ’s is not the place to hang out and I move on.

Davidson’s Distillery  (275 East 4^th Street, 775-324-1917) brings in a much wider assortment of bikers, probably due to its close proximity to Reno’s downtown casino area.  Davidson’s is rather rundown, its red and black checkered linoleum floor scuffed and worn.  Posters and photographs cover the walls and ceiling, and the obligatory pool table is surrounded by a small cluster of people.  Oldies rock and roll music blares from the jukebox.  This evening the bar was full of a mishmash of clientele.  A half a dozen people attending the Dane Cook concert downtown had wandered in to have drinks before the show.  No particular bike club was in evidence and no one was wearing marked clothing. 

            “It’s dangerous to come into a place like this alone in your biker dress,” said biker and patron Jeff McDonald, 48.  “If you want to wear your colors, you come in as a group.  Then no one messes with you.” 

             Bartender Lisa Hadley, 52, described her clientele as “beer drinkers and hell raisers.”  She emphasized that there is only one firm rule for Davidsons. 

             “If they’re gonna fight they have to do it outside,” Hadley said.  “If they won’t go outside we’ll drag them out.  And no matter what happens, we never call the cops.  We might call an ambulance if someone needs it, but never the cops.”

             A tastefully dressed, beautifully coifed woman walked in and sat down next to me.  Cheryl Summers, 49, rides a Harley Davidson.  When asked about the extremely obnoxious noise a Harley makes, she shook her head vehemently.

             “The louder the bike the better,“ Summers said.  “Then people will know that I’m there and they won’t run into me.”      

             Summers is not a Davidson regular.  In fact, she hasn’t been in the bar for several months.

             “Going in a biker bar takes me back to the 1980’s—a time when I was doing drugs.  They’re a flashback to the past for me,” Summers said.  “I stop in once in awhile as a reminder of what I used to be and how I transformed myself.”  She tells me she is a hair stylist and we talked about her doing my hair for my birthday next week.  Another patron, Jesse Gomez, 54, stopped by to say hello to Summers and gave me his two cents about Davidson’s.   

             “I’ve been coming here for a drink or two after work since they opened in 2002,” Gomez said.  “These are very good, respectable people.  They may play hard but they work hard too.”

             Soon a live band began playing and it became impossible to talk.  I headed over to the Bar USA (902 South Virginia St., 775-324-7633) and Summers decided to accompany me.  A small, narrow bar, Bar USA is a relative newcomer to the Reno biker scene. 

            “We haven’t been open long,” said bartender Tiffany Sprechdt.  “I’ve only worked here 6 months, so I don’t have any stories I can tell you.  But the people are real nice.”  A bearded man listened intently to us while casually hitting balls around the pool table.  He wandered over as Sprechdt and I spoke.  Eric Wahlquist moved to Reno from Colorado 6 weeks ago.  Though he’s the owner of a software company in Denver, Wahlquist made so many trips to Reno every month that he finally decided to move here. 

            “I just fell in love with this city,” Wahlquist said.  He soon offered his own opinion of bikers.

            “They’re mostly family-oriented, blue collar people.  They work in steel, concrete, plumbing, things like that,” Wahlquist said.  “You don’t get the younger kids because they can’t afford to spend $30,000 on a bike.  They’re expensive toys.”  It turns out that Wahlquist, besides being a motorcycle collector, is also a classically trained blacksmith.  This interesting conversation ended when Sprechdt decided to close Bar USA early, though I did get Wahlquist’s email address and a promise to send me the titles of some good books.  I headed back to Davdison’s, which had the largest crowd that evening.    I found out that I had just missed a huge biker night, as The Henchmen had all popped in to Davidson’s the previous evening.  Hadley told me about an incident that occurred.  One of the bikers, too drunk to ride home, was convinced to leave his motorcycle at Davidson’s.  Unfortunately, he wanted it leave it inside.  He rode his bike into the bar, swinging wheelies around for several minutes.

            “The entire place filled with smoke and rubber,” Hadley said.  “For a while it was utter chaos in here.”  A biker sitting next to me laughed.

            “That was pretty wild,” Dwayne Teffries, 46, said.  Teffries was dressed like my idea of a biker, with long hair partially wrapped in a blue bandanna, several piercings and numerous tattoos.  He was playing Keno on a machine at the bar, occasionally stepping away to shoot a pool ball when it was his turn.  He didn’t seem very wild or remotely dangerous. 

             I went home thinking that, all in all, it had been a fun though fairly uneventful evening.  I’d met several interesting people and made a couple of new friends.  But the bikers that I’d met had all been polite and friendly.  There hadn’t been any knives, or fights, or even any cursing.  I’m not sure what I expected Reno biker bars to be like, but they turned out to be much like any other bar in town.  Full of hardworking people simply trying to unwind and enjoy themselves.

                 The floor was actually pulsating under my feet.  I could literally feel my internal organs vibrating to the constant throb of the bass and this sensation, along with the bright strobe lights, was making me feel slightly nauseous.  My eardrums pulsed to the rapid techno beat and I began to develop an extremely serious migraine.  I was at the Club Haze in the Aria Resort in Las Vegas celebrating the 23^rd birthday of my school friend, Elizabeth Weems, and I was supposed to be having the time of my life.  The Haze is one of the newest and trendiest nightspots in Vegas, and we were considered lucky to get in at all.  However, all I could think about was how much I wanted to sit down.  My feet were killing me in new high heels and the room was so crowded it was impossible to move.  Hundreds of people were crammed into an area that was packed tighter than sardines in a tin can.  The booths that lined the room were partitioned off with velvet rope and guarded by burly bouncers.  Reserved for VIP’s, they were off-limits to nobodies like me.  My initial plan upon arriving at the club had been to find a quiet seat in the corner and wait until my friends had all partied themselves out.  This wasn’t to be.  As I was pushed closer to the dance floor by the throng of shoving people, my main goal became remaining upright.  Frightened that I would lose my friends in the mass of drunken, sweaty partiers, I hung on to the girl in front of me for dear life.  I spent most of my time at the club swaying to the music wherever I stood, then shuffling painfully to a new spot and repeating the motion.  After the first hour I couldn’t take the pain any longer and finally took off my shoes.  I had wanted to know what it was like to be a 21 again, and this was it.

                As a 52-year-old, disabled, non-traditional college student, I never got to experience the crazy, youthful, student lifestyle that parents are always warning their children about.  When two young college friends, Elizabeth Weems and Pamela Roberts, recently invited me on a trip to Las Vegas to watch a football game against our team’s arch-rival, the University of Las Vegas, my first inclination had been to say no.  However, after thinking about it I decided that it might be fun.  The first glitch in the trip came at departure time.   It turned out that two other girls, Leonora and Trish, were accompanying us on the drive down to Vegas.  My initial consternation wasn’t so much about the extra people, but about how we were going to squeeze all five of us as well as our luggage into a compact car?  It’s really amazing what a great deal of determined pushing and shoving will accomplish.  Three of us finally climbed into the back seat and I thanked God that I wasn’t stuck in the middle on the “hump.”  However, squeezed into a corner of the back seat, my left side pressed uncomfortably against the car door and attempting to keep my right elbow from jabbing into the side of the girl sitting in the middle, I sat rather dejectedly contemplating the hours of discomfort ahead.  We got no farther than Fallon, about an hour’s drive, when somebody insisted that we had to stop and get two things:  pizza and booze.  We pulled into to the local Pizza parlor and while a couple of us ordered the food, the rest ran to the closest store to pick up a bottle of rum and a six-pack of Dr. Pepper.  While we waited for our food, a very drunk young man flirted with us and offered to buy us a pitcher of beer. 

                “No thanks, tonight it’s only the hard stuff,” Leonora replied, which led to a ribald gesture by the man and hoots of laughter all around.  We piled back into the car and I declined a drink as did our driver, Elizabeth.  We hadn’t travelled more than another 45 minutes when I heard Elizabeth say, “oh shit,” and noticed the red and blue flashing lights reflected in the windshield.  Thankfully the bottle of rum was stashed out of sight in time, and the cop turned out to be a friendly guy who let us off with just a warning.  We decided to tuck the booze into the trunk for the remainder of the trip.  The only thing I really remember about that drive was listening to country western music—which falls only above rap on my ambivalence scale—and the feeling of sheer terror I felt every time we passed a semi on the road.  I’d once been behind a car that got into an terrible accident after passing me on the road, and I’ve had an unreasonable fear of passing ever since.  

                Whoever it was that told me the drive to Las Vegas took six hours was dead wrong.  A little over eight excruciating hours later we entered the city limits and I could finally see the bright lights of the Vegas strip glowing in the distance.  After dropping off Leonora and Trish at their hotel, Elizabeth, Pamela and I arrived at our destination, the home of the Elizabeth parents, and slowly crawled out of our cramped positions. When Elizabeth had mentioned that her house would be empty, I thought she meant that her parents wouldn’t be home.  I never imagined that she meant the house would actually be empty.  There was a lot of missing furniture and not much in the basement where we were supposed to sleep.   We divvied up what little there was, which included a small hide-a-bed and an leather sectional with enormous gaps every two feet where the sections were supposed to join.  I got the couch and tried my damnedest to pull the sections together, but the pieces were just too heavy to move.  Giving up, I finally lay down at close to 6 a.m., popped half a Valium and tried to get comfortable on the hot, sticky leather surface.  I considered myself lucky.  At least I wasn’t forced to sleep on the hard floor like Elizabeth had to. 

                I’d barely closed my eyes when I heard loud noises. 

                “Wake up Aida, breakfast is almost ready!”  I was so exhausted that it sounded as if Elizabeth had shouted in my ear.  I dragged myself up determined to face the day with optimism and fortitude.  That day, Friday, was Elizabeth’s birthday and she had gotten all of us comps to one of the hottest spots in town, the Haze nightclub.  And what do young girls do when they’ve planned to spend a Friday evening out on the town?  The answer is: shopping.  Almost seven hours later, after stops at Nordstrom’s, Ulta, Dillard’s and Target, we hit the utterly nauseating Forever Twenty One.  This store was packed with more young girls than a Justin Bieber concert.  They practically clawed at each other to reach the sale items, and everything I saw was either sparkly or made of fake black leather studded with silver.  It took us an almost an hour just to check out.  I was physically and emotionally drained when we arrived back at Elizabeth’s house.  Unfortunately, we had to be at the club by 11:30 p.m., which left us with just enough time for a quick shower and a frantic make-up session.  Elizabeth’s mother had agreed to drive us to the club, and on the way there, Elizabeth and Pamela took turns chugging from the bottle of rum that had been fished out of the trunk.  They decided that getting a fast buzz before arriving at the club would save them money, as they wouldn’t have to buy as many drinks while they were there.  This seemed like unusual reasoning to me, until I found out later that drinks started at $15 a glass, an astronomical price.  Outfitted in a new dress and a pair of atrociously uncomfortable high heel shoes that I had picked up at Target earlier that afternoon, I teetered behind the others as we congregated at the entrance to the club, where a large group of Reno friends were meeting us.  The rest, as they say, is history.  Unluckily for the others, but rather fortuitously for me, Elizabeth had a run in with a particularly nasty bouncer at about 5 a.m. and we decided to call it a night.  Back at the house, the sun was coming up as I tried to get comfortable without sinking too deep into the gaps of the leather sectional.  I felt very old at that moment because all I could think about was my own comfortable bed back at home.

                Saturday, game day.  I had hardly slept a wink but I was still looking forward to the football game.  Unfortunately, both of my friends were incredibly hung-over.  As I heard one of them retching in the bathroom, I felt almost blessed that I hadn’t drunk much the night before, even though it had been more from an inability to get through all the people to the bar than anything else that had stopped me.   My friend knew a back way to the stadium that hundreds of other people seemed to know as well, and our parking spot seemed at least a mile away.  We trekked for what seemed like an hour, but was surely less, through a dirt and stone lot that made my still-throbbing feet ache even more.  I found out then that our tickets had been purchased and were being held by a friend who had arrived in Las Vegas early that morning to attend a tailgate party.  We needed to find him amongst the hundreds of other tailgaters who seemed to be causing drunken havoc around the stadium.  After an hour of confusing cell phone directions and wandering through the rowdy crowds, we finally found the friend and our tickets.  We spent the next hour attempting to chug as many beers as we could before entering the stadium.  The game really was a blast.  Except for several fights that broke out and crowds around us shouting epithets at the UNLV fans (and vice versa), it was great fun to hoot and holler for our team, who won the game.  There were after-game parties going on all over town, but Elizabeth had lost her cell phone when she rushed the field (something I was way too chicken to even attempt to do!) and she wasn’t in a partying mood.  After spending an hour or two hunting for the missing phone, we made it home at a fairly reasonable hour only to sit up all night talking and drinking what was left in the rum bottle.                                                

                The drive home didn’t seem as long as the drive there had been.  Leonora and Trish had found another way home, so Elizabeth, Pamela and I had the car to ourselves.  I think everyone was a bit exhausted and partied out, and much of the trip was a quiet one.  Elizabeth asked me to drive the final half of the journey.  She had driven so much over the past several days that I felt it would be churlish to refuse, even though I’m partially night blind.  I’m not the best driver, and she directed me, which was very helpful, but the drive stretched my already thin nerves to their breaking point.  We didn’t get home until after midnight, and I wasn’t in bed until 1 a.m.  I spent the night worrying about all the school work I’d gotten behind on during my trip to Vegas.  Although it was an interesting trip, with many moments of fun and humor, I don’t think it’s one that I’ll be repeating anytime soon.  Being 21 again no longer appeals to me.  I guess I’m just too old and set in my ways.

 I arrived in Virginia City (VC), Nevada at 3 p.m. on a Saturday in early November determined to find an interesting story—something different.  After parking, I followed the sound of loud music to a bar down the street.  The old-fashioned Red Dog Saloon was hopping to the tunes of a live Ragtime band, Large Bills Accepted.  About 20 people were sitting around drinking, eating pizza and tapping their feet in time to the music.  This, I decided, is my story.  I want to write about VC’s bar scene and the type of people you might find hanging out on a typical Saturday in fall. 

I sat at the bar and glanced around.  One man, all alone, was dancing exuberantly near the stage.  Washoe Valley resident, Chris Dennisen, 63, is unemployed and came to VC to see the band.  A self-proclaimed dancing fanatic, he spent a good half hour explaining the difference between the mamba and the cha cha.

“I’m addicted to dancing like some people are addicted to cigarettes or jogging,” he said.  “I dance to 100 songs every morning before breakfast.  Then I go out and dance some more.”  Dennisen recounted dancing in Reno the previous evening–first at the Sands, then the Roxy and Circus Circus, where he said he received a standing ovation for his cha cha.  He ended the evening dancing at the karaoke bar in the Cal Neva, he said.

“Actually, I’ve taken up clogging in the past couple of weeks,” he said.  “I even put a tap dance pad in front of my computer so I can dance while I’m online.”  The bad started playing again and Dennisen soon danced away from me.  As I sat at the bar looking for other unusual people to interview VC resident Julie North, 48, and her husband JM, 50, walked up to say goodbye to the bartender.  They had finished their after-work cocktail and were on their way home.  Julie told me about a hidden children’s cemetery south of Gold Hall. 

“You know that when children die their spirits don’t die,” she said.  Julie and JM described partying one snowy winter’s night years ago at the Red Dog Saloon.  They looked outside and saw something peculiar in the street.     

“We suddenly noticed tiny human footprints appearing in the fresh snow, but no one was there,” she said.  “I just know it was one of those children.”  Both swore that even though they had been a bit intoxicated at the time, what they had seen had been the real deal. 

A young couple walked in and sat down.  Lance Wright, 36, and his girlfriend, Tina Gotchy, 35, both from Fallon, met in high school, where they had the same art class.  Lance was the cool and popular upperclassman football player, while Tina was shy and reserved.  Lance told her dirty jokes in class just to watch her blush.  He had always had a crush on her, but it had never gone anywhere.  A few months ago, almost 20 years since they had last seen each other, Tina reconnected with Lance via Facebook.  About a month ago, Tina agreed to meet Lance at his home so they could catch up and look over their high school yearbook.  When Lance saw Tina again, lightning struck. 

“When I saw her, it was like I was back in high school again and my crush was here, standing right in my living room, but even prettier than before,” he said.  “We’ve been together every day since.”   We all got up to take a walk around town.  At the door, they headed a left and I took a right down the only main street.

 About half a block away sits the Silver Queen Hotel.  It’s a bit more ramshackle than the Red Dog with leftover Halloween decorations, especially fake spider webs, permeating every spare inch of the place.  I immediately struck up a conversation with the friendly, garrulous bartender Tina Ferrante, 24, who lives in nearby Dayton.  Tina’s been working at the Silver Queen for about six months and loves everything about it, especially the people.

“Everyone knows everyone up here, which is great,” she said.  “But that can be a bad thing as well as a good thing when it comes to your private life.”  Ferrante rambled on about the merits of the bar, the residents of VC, and her employer, owner Connie Carlson.  Ferrante handed me a brochure and told me the new slogan that she’d come up with.

“’You’ll always make a friend at the Silver Queen,’” she said.  “But don’t leave out Connie’s, which is ‘the Silver Queen, where romance never dies’.”  I don’t know about Connie’s motto, but Tina’s proves to be true.  I chat for awhile with Carson City resident Carol McCario, 52, leaving with her phone number and a promise to stay in touch.

  I had finally gathered enough courage to enter the Union Brewery, VC’s local biker bar just down the street.  I stepped into an extremely narrow building that was decorated with skulls everywhere I looked.  Sitting at the bar next to a grey haired man, I greeted him with a cheery “hello.”  He glared back at me.  I asked him if he was a biker and he continued to glare at me silently.  Either stupidity or persistence egged me on and I asked him the name of his gang.  He lowered his head and silently pointed to the hat on his head, which was embroidered with the words, “The Hangmen.”

As I talked, he began to thaw a bit.  This taciturn fellow, Calvin Smith, 55, loves VC and especially this bar.  I asked him what was so special about the place.

“It’s always different when I come in—it always changes,” he said.  “Never the same people, there’s always someone new here.”

Bartender Linda Jones, 62, who lives three miles away in Silver City, suddenly leaned over the bar to interrupt us.

“They’re not GANGS,” she said emphatically.  “They’re motorcycle CLUBS.”  Jones is an interesting character.  With a worn face, numerous tattoos and a diamond piecing in her left cheek, she looks like she could be a biker herself.  She’s worked for the Union Brewery for almost four years.

“It’s an awesome place and I love it,” she said.  “I think people stereotype bikers really bad.  I haven’t seen one fight since I’ve been here.  And they don’t get all fucked up because they have to go out and get on that $20,000-$30,000 dollar bike and ride down that hill.”  Literally dozens of motorcycle clubs hang out here including The Righteous Ones, The Vagos, The Boozefighters, The Bandits, The Henchmen and The Archangels.  For all of them, the Union Brewery is neutral ground.  

“If they’ve got a problem, they leave it out outside of the bar,” Jones said.

I walked to the rear of the bar and found Lance and Tina playing pool.  The three of us walked back over the Red Dog Saloon.  Another band, Furlong and Company, had started playing lively Bluegrass music.  I spoke to Red Dog owners, Loren Brusel, 42, and his wife, Sue, 40, who have lived in VC for 20 years.  Sue informed me that the ‘psychedelic’ movement actually began in Virginia City long before it hit the Haight-Ashbury District of San Francisco.

“Many famous people played here long before they made it big in San Francisco,” she said.  “Including Janis Joplin, Jerry Garcia, The Charlatons, Big Brother and the Holding Company and Jefferson Airplane.”

Noticing a happy-looking couple toasting at the end of the bar, I inquired about the occasion.  Ryan Varrone, 42, of Sparks, was celebrating his birthday with his wife, Dee, 36. 

“I’ve always wanted to stay in a haunted building,” he said.  “For my birthday, Dee booked us into the most haunted room at the Silver Queen Hotel.”  As they excused themselves to head back to their hotel, I wished them a spooky evening.

 Surveying the 25-30 people that now filled the bar I caught sight of a couple in period 1800s clothing.  Dressed up as a sheriff was Roland Gysen, 52, of Gardnerville and gussied up as a madame was Karen Votraw, 48, of Reno.  Both acted as docents on the weekends, explaining Virginia City history to the tourists.  They had stopped in for drinks and dinner after a long day of work, but mostly to socialize.         

“This place is like a home away from home,” Votraw said.  “These people here are like family.”

Lance, Tina and I decided to head over to the last bar on my list, the Corner Pub at Piper’s Opera House.  Earlier in the day, the Red Dog bartender had brought it to my attention as a real locals’ hangout.  I entered the bar to find only two people inside, the bartender and one patron.  The bartender, a gaunt man who looked like a scary version of Santa without the padding, looked at me in astonishment.

We’re closed,” he said quite emphatically. 

It was about 10:30 p.m. and we headed back to the Union Brewery.  I chatted with another regular patron, Tom Edwards, 55, of Carson City, who was playing pool with his girlfriend, Carly Jessup, 42.  He was fairly intoxicated and I was glad he was staying at his girlfriend’s house in VC that night instead of driving home.  He was the only person I had spoken to at the Union Brewery who wasn’t a member of a motorcycle club.  I asked him why he came to that particular bar. 

“Because every time I leave here I leave drunk as a skunk,” he said.  I wasn’t quite sure of his reasoning, especially since he had told me that he was heading to jail in December for receiving his third DUI.   I asked him if all of the skulls decorating the bar were for Halloween.

“No, they’re permanent,” he said.  “It’s kind of Linda’s thing.” 

After this last interview I decided to call it a night, as did Lance and Tina.  After they left me, I suddenly realized that it was pitch black outside and I had no idea where my car was parked.  I slowly and cautiously made my way down a steep hill that looked slightly familiar, scared silly that I was going to get mugged or worse.  I noticed the glowing tip of a lit cigarette in the dark.  Deciding to be the aggressor I called out a cheery “good evening!”  The red cigarette tip jumped about a foot in the air.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he said.  I explained my situation to David Lane, 36, a VC resident who had been smoking out on his back porch. 

“Why don’t I walk with you and help you find your car,” he said.  He offered me the crook of his elbow and we stumbled around in the darkness for about 30 minutes.  I thanked him profusely when we found my car by giving him a big hug.  Deciding that I needed to write down his name for my story, I reached for my notebook only to find that it wasn’t there.  I searched everywhere, inside and out, but couldn’t find it.  Recognizing that over 8 hours of work was going down the drain, I tried to remember the last time I had it in my hand.  I just wasn’t sure.   As a last resort I headed back to the Union Brewery.  I raced inside and found Jones, the bartender, alone.

“It’s right there on the stool,” she said.  “I kept the bar open hoping you’d come back for it.”

Hugging my notebook close to my chest, I realized that her gesture encapsulated all of the people that I had spoken to that day.  They had all been gracious, friendly, and generous with their time and their stories.  That day the people I’d met had made me laugh, shake my head in amazement, and appreciate their kindness.  Virginia City seems to attract an unusual assortment of people and getting to know some of them had been an unexpectedly enjoyable experience.

Lake Tahoe is well known for the snowcapped peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains that surround its vivid blue water.  Although a popular winter destination spot due to the many ski resorts that are concentrated in the area, it has also become a home for outdoor enthusiasts during all seasons.  On the northwest shore, located at the headway of the Truckee River, is Tahoe City, a small town extending only one mile from end to end.  Tahoe City makes an excellent home base for experiencing the beauty of the area, and during the summer months it offers a plethora of opportunities for fun, relaxation and excitement.      

Friday

5 p.m.

1)  SCENIC SUNSET

Nothing is as awesome as being on the lake itself, gazing up at the stunning Sierra Nevada wilderness that surrounds Tahoe.  Watching the warm orange glow of the fading sun reflecting off of the lake’s mirror-like surface is an unforgettable and almost surreal vision.  A relaxing way to experience this is to set sail on the 50-foot yacht, the “Tahoe Cruz” for a sunset cruise on Lake Tahoe.  The friendly staff and crew of Tahoe Sailing Charters (700 N. Lake Tahoe Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-6200; www.tahoesail.com) offer a natural and eco-friendly way to experience the lake and its beautiful surroundings in comfort.  During the two-hour trip you can take the wheel and steer the boat yourself, or simply relax and enjoy the beer, wine and appetizers that are included in the $60 per person cost ($50 for children). 

7:30 p.m.

2)  MEXICAN FIESTA

Tahoe City has restaurants that will appeal to any taste and offers both casual and fine dining experiences.  The colorful and rather rustic looking Blue Agave (425 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-8113; www.tahoeblueagave.com) offers an informal atmosphere and what they call “Mexican food with attitude.”  The restaurant is located in one of the most historic buildings still standing in Tahoe City. Built originally in 1876, this contributes to its old-style charm.  Try the house specialty, pork carnitas served with rice and beans ($15), or the more adventurous blue water fish tacos stuffed with grilled Mahi Mahi, chipolte barbeque sauce and topped with borracho cabbage salsa ($15). Dinner will run about $30 for two without cocktails.

9:30 p.m.

3)  GAMES OF CHANCE

The bright neon lights and jangling bells of Crystal Bay’s casinos beckon you to try out some of Nevada’s renowned nightlife.  Definitely worth a visit is the Crystal Bay Club Casino (14 State Highway 28; 775-833-6333; www.crystalbaycasino.com) open 24-hours a day.  The lounge offers live music nightly and the casino showroom books some well-known talent on weekends (call ahead for information and reservations).  Try your luck at blackjack, craps, roulette, poker or one of the many electronic slot machines while sipping on complimentary player cocktails.  But be careful…the drive back to Tahoe City is dark and full of twists and turns, and tomorrow morning will come pretty fast!

Saturday

8 a.m.

1)  A TAHOE TRADITION

For a hearty breakfast, follow the locals to the center of town and enjoy Rosies Café (571 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-8504; www.rosiescafe.com).  Entering Rosies is an unusual experience.  A jumble of items decorate the walls and hang from the ceiling, and each piece encapsulates a bit of Tahoe’s history.  The deer and elk chandeliers, the 19^th century ski paraphernalia, and the numerous antique bicycles give the restaurant the feel of an eclectic museum.  Don’t let the cluttered décor detour you, because Rosies is best known for its home-style food and friendly service.  Favorite breakfast dishes include the grilled pork chop and eggs ($12) or the Eggs New Orleans ($10.49), which includes deep fried crab cakes, poached eggs, hash browns and hollandaise sauce.  Other choices include three egg omelets, breakfast burritos and numerous varieties of scrambled eggs.  The outside porch is a delightful dining spot and a great place to plan the day ahead.  It’s usually packed, but it’s worth the wait.      

10 a.m.

2)  ROLLING ON THE RIVER

Be sure to stop and pack a cooler with your favorite snacks and beverages before heading over to Mountain Air Sports (Tahoe City at the “Y” under the green and yellow banner; 888-584-RAFT; www.tahoetruckeerafting.com) for a float down the Truckee River.  Raft trips run approximately two to four hours but there’s no time limit, so you can set your own pace.  Stop anywhere along the river and enjoy a picnic lunch, socialize with other rafters, or simply splash in the water and bask in the sun. Packing alcohol is permitted as long as it’s in cans instead of bottles, and with everything in Tahoe City within walking distance, feel free to imbibe to your heart’s content.  The ride is mostly smooth sailing, but a few small rapids add a bit of excitement.  Expect to have a blast and to definitely get very wet, and don’t forget to pack sunscreen.  Rafting is available from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. daily at a cost of $40 per person with a $5 discount offered if you reserve your trip in advance.  The price includes free parking and a return shuttle bus. 

2 p.m.

3)  AT YOUR OWN PACE

The afternoon is free for a number of activities.  If you haven’t eaten since breakfast, stop in at the River Grill (adjacent to raft launch on River Road just west of Fanny Bridge; 530-581-2644; www.rivergrilltahoe.com) and enjoy lunch on the banks of the usually peaceful Truckee River.  A meeting place for those about to embark on rafting tours and also those returning, the River Grill maintains a casual and fairly loud, party atmosphere on summer weekends.  A favorite spot for locals as well as visitors, it has been voted best happy hour in North Lake Tahoe for many years with excellent drink and appetizer specials.  The regular menu offers a bit of everything including salads (under $10), burgers ($16), ravioli ($19), meatloaf and chicken ($22), and a selection of fresh seafood (approximately $28). 

If food isn’t on the menu, or perhaps walking off lunch is preferred, explore some of Tahoe City’s unique specialty stores and historic landmarks that run along city’s one-mile strip.  The Rainbow Bridge (475, 495 North Lake Blvd.; 530-583-4323; www.therainbowbridge.com) offers rare gemstone jewelry from all over the world, singing bowls, sacred art and gifts.  At All Fired Up (475 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-584-6200) you can paint your own pottery or purchase pre-made items.  Bluestone Jewelry (495 North Lake Blvd.; 530-581-4298; www.bluestonetahow.com) offers location inspired jewelry, art, photography and unique glass sculpture.  Stop by Poppy’s Frozen Yogurt (521 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-581-0885) for a cold treat or an energizing espresso.  The “Y” is at the heart of Tahoe City; from there amble over to Fanny Bridge and look down at the huge fish swimming below, then explore the nearby Gatekeepers & Marion Steinbach Indian Basket Museum (130 West Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-1762; www.northtahoemuseums.org).  Kick your shoes off and splash in the water as you stroll along Common’s Beach or take a short hike on one of the multitude of trails that begin at the center of Tahoe City.  It’s just as rewarding to kick back with a good book or simply daydream under a fragrant pine tree in the quiet lakeside park.

5 p.m.

3)  LOOSEN UP

3)  After a hectic day of partying, shopping, and sightseeing, what could be better than a relaxing massage?  Designed with the principles of Feng Shui in mind, the soothing décor of Massage on the Lake Spa (589 North Tahoe Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-0320; www.massageonthelake.com) will ease any remnants of tension in the mind as well as the body.  Escape to the islands with a Mango or Coconut Lime Scrub or Aromatherapy Wrap ($110 to $165) or for a luxurious experience try the Total Relaxation Special that combines a relaxing one hour massage with a warm aromatherapy body wrap and a scalp treatment (2 hours for $195).  A simpler treat is the full body massage at $90 for one hour, $120 for an hour and a half (prices per person).  Massage on the Lake has been voted best massage in North Lake Tahoe and after being pampered here customers often find it difficult to leave. Operating hours are 9 a.m.to 8 p.m. daily and appointments are strongly suggested.

7:30 p.m.

4)  FOOD WITH A VIEW

Enjoy dinner on an outdoor patio overlooking the lake.  Listen to the serene lapping of the water on the shore and watch a multitude of stars begin to twinkle in the dark, velvety night sky as you treat yourself to an elegant meal.  Restaurant owner/Chef Douglass Dale brags that his restaurant has offered simply prepared fresh food for nearly 30 years.  For a distinctive dining experience, try Wolfdale’s Cuisine Unique (640 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-5700; www.wolfdales.com).  Specializing in an Asian and European cooking style with a California flavor, everything about Wolfdale’s is unusual and appealing, including the custom-designed ceramic dishes that have been created to compliment the meals.  With dishes such as Green Thai Curry Stew, Cheese Tortellini, Alaskan Halibut, Short Ribs, Filet Mignon, Burgers and Vegetarian dishes, there is something for everyone.  The restaurant also offers an award winning wine selection.  Their large selection of entrees runs from $14 to $49.

Sunday

9 a.m.

1)  UNDER YOUR OWN STEAM

Lake Tahoe is best known for its beautiful, crystal clear water and now it’s time to get back on it.  There’s really no better way to explore the lake than with a kayak from Tahoe City Kayak (521 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-581-4336; www.tahoecitykayak.com).  Beginners will have a great time on the Lakeside Lunch Tour.  After being outfitted and given some basic paddling instruction, the tour departs from Tahoe City for a casual hour and a half paddle past gorgeous historic homes and spectacular shoreline scenery, culminating with lunch at the well-known Jake’s on the Lake restaurant (780 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-0188; www.jakestahoe.com).  Cost is $95 per person which includes lunch at Jake’s.  The experienced kayaker who prefers a more demanding or solitary ride can go it on his/her own by renting a kayak (double seat kayak for $28 an hour or $60 for 4 hours).  Kayaking lessons are also available with two-hour clinics running $185 for two people.    

2 p.m.

2)  PUMP IT UP

A really fun and easy way to experience the natural beauty of Tahoe is under your own steam.  Rent a bicycle at the Olympic Bike Shop (620 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-581-2500; www.olympicbikeshop.com) and explore the dozens of bike and hiking paths that spread out from the city’s center.  Open daily from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., bike rentals run approximately $24 for four hours and include helmets, maps and usually some good advice.  Try taking the well-paved path that runs west along the Truckee River, and give a friendly shout and wave to the rafters as you ride by.  This trail leads all the way to the famous Squaw Valley Ski Resort, a six-mile ride (each way) that is doable in four hours for the experienced rider.  Or travel at a more leisurely pace and have a wonderful (and healthy) ride while enjoying the scenery.  The more intrepid explorer may wish to rent a bike for the entire day and spend a few hours exploring the 15 bars and restaurants and 34 shops that make up the Village at Squaw Valley.  If you have the time, be sure to visit Lather & Fizz (The Village at Squaw Valley; 530-584-6001; www.latherandfizz.com), look over their fresh handmade beauty products and be treated to an invigorating salt and sugar body scrub or relaxing foot scrub and massage.

NEED TO KNOW

Tahoe City is approximately an hour drive from Reno-Tahoe International Airport and about three hours from San Francisco on I-80.  A recent Web search found the cheapest one-stop flights to Reno from New York airports on weekends in July ranging from $292 to $351, and cheapest non-stop flights from Los Angeles on weekends in July ranging from $117 to $158.

For the name brand conscious, America’s Best Value Inn (455 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-583-3766; www.abvitahoecity.com) offers a central location and efficient lodging at reasonable rates.  While not luxurious, they offer utilitarian comfort.  Rooms start at $174 including taxes and a continental breakfast.  Ask about local discounts.

The recently renovated Pepper Tree Inn (800-624-8590; www.peppertreetahoe.com) offers the casual comfort of a “mountain home” décor.  Amenities include a heated pool, complimentary breakfast in a rustic breakfast room and available shuttle service.  Visitors can curl up and get cozy with in-room conveniences such as coffee bean grinders, coffee makers and ceramic mugs.  The deluxe rooms also feature a whirlpool built for two–so dim the lights, grab your rubber ducky (provided) and relax in style. Deluxe rooms with a king size bed run from $135 to $210 depending upon the floor and the view (lake view rooms available); prices include breakfast.

At Mother Nature’s Inn (551 North Lake Blvd., Tahoe City; 530-581-4278 or 800-558-4278; www.mothernaturesinn.com) all of the rooms are uniquely different with a strong emphasis on comfort and the great outdoors.  Rooms are fitted with wildlife and nature themed furnishings and decor.  The hotel is pet friendly and several rooms have been set aside to accommodate guests and their pets.  Rooms start at $115, pets are $15 for the first pet, $5 a night for each additional pet.

Davidson Mathematics and Science Center

On the east side of the University of Nevada, artfully tucked away down below the Quad, I found one of the more beautiful and virtually hidden areas of the university’s campus. Although several of the engineering and mining schools can be found in here, many students are either unaware of its existence or know it only as the place the dreaded Core Humanity classes are taught. This location, a bit difficult to find, is mainly accessed down a steep stairway located at the northeast corner of the Quad. Once I descended the extremely steep steps, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in a small, quiet and quaintly attractive courtyard filled with grass, trees and red brick buildings that have been mellowed by age. I stopped and took a moment to appreciate the feeling of peace and solitude that seemed to permeate the area. While examining my surroundings, a new four-story brick, steel and glass structure captured my attention. It houses the Davidson Mathematics and Science Center, a modernistic building that in the near future is sure to become a hub of activity in this currently hushed and rather isolated location.

Entering Davidson was an interesting yet slightly disappointing experience for me; it evoked a sense of desolation that is difficult to describe. No hoards of students packed its extra tall, wide hallways or filled its silence with chatter–a palatable feeling of emptiness permeated the building. The minimalistic, modern interior makes the Davidson look and feel almost sterile; even the furniture appears to be more functional than comfortable. Not much excited me on the lower level, except for the impressive Nell J. Redfield Auditorium, a gorgeous room with a seating capacity of 468 people. In contrast, the upper levels held a pleasant surprise; the classrooms, although most of them are currently empty, are all large and roomy, with auditorium-style, tiered seating and a plethora of modern technology. However, the Davidson Mathematics and Science Center is having its share of difficulties at the moment. Some of the equipment is still awaiting delivery, while in other cases the technology is simply too new for the professors.  “Our teacher couldn’t figure out how to make anything in the classroom work,” said Melissa Shacknels, student. Most of the labs are still closed and filled with workman attempting to get everything installed and functioning properly. The Davidson is suffering from ‘new building syndrome,’ according to Melissa Bell, Executive Assistant to the Dean.  “Things don’t work right, the elevators smell like skunks and keys don’t fit the doors,” she said. “We have men here working night and day to finish up.”

Davidson Hallway

This area will not remain quiet and peaceful–just as the Davidson will not seem lonely and desolate–for long. As the building nears final completion, math and science classes scattered across campus will be moved to this central location, and soon it will be humming with activity. Whether students will love it for all of its snazzy new features or hate it for its rather nondescript, functional appearance, I don’t know. However, they will surely be amazed by this new learning facility and the many opportunities it will offer. And the Davidson will continue to grow. Even now there are plans to buy up property on Evans Avenue to build a second tower, which will be connected to the Davidson by overhead walkways on each of the upper three floors. Here in this quiet little corner of the University of Nevada, Reno, science and technology have found a new home.

Hello WordPress.  You are completely new to me, but I hope that we get to know each other well

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!