It only took us five days to get to to the desert. And here we are, on a mountain in Winnemucca, wrapped in wool blankets and reading by candlelight. Setting up camp means backing the van into the shallowest nook of snow and pouring wine into tin camp cups. Our dinner is homemade chili from Oakland, carefully packed into a Tupperware by Tim, two pieces of castiron cornbread — one vegan, one gluten free — and half an avocado.
The cold creeps in through the window glass but we keep the curtains open. We can’t see much but our eyes are starting to adjust and we know we’ll have a good surprise in the morning. There are more stars than I remember there ever being.
In the morning we wake up with the sun and slowly descend into the smooth bank of fog that covers the little city of Winnemucca. Winnemucca, Nevada, The City of Paved Streets, where hashbrowns and coffee and green leather booths and a window by the sun await us at the Griddle, the diner with the best neon sign in town.