Cars, camping, and why you can never go home again.
Well, I made it back from our trip across Nevada and back again. It was a journey, that much is true.
It started with a drive from Las Vegas to Reno early last Friday morning. the nearly 500 miles long road trip takes about 8 hours to complete and by mid-afternoon, we were sitting in my sister's living room in down town Reno, unloading our things from the car and getting ready to head over to Sparks to take in the sights of their Friday night Hot August Nights celebration.
If you don't know what Hot August Nights is, check it out here: https://hotaugustnights.net/
It is the largest gathering of classic cars in the world and it takes place each year in the month of August in the Reno/Sparks area. If you're into American muscle, this is definitely your scene. Our plan was to see the parade in Sparks on Friday night, then check out the happenings in Reno on Saturday night. We did manage to accomplish both of these goals quite handily and I was thrilled to see so many wonderfully preserved, restored, and customized rides cruising in my hometown. This was year number 31 of HAN, and it has grown SO much since I was a kid. In fact the entire city has grown. There were more people in attendance of this week long event than I have ever seen gathered in any one place in the Reno/Sparks area.
The Panasonic and Tesla factories have really brought in a ton of new residents and all this new growth is really putting a strain on the locals. My sister explained to me that all the new jobs are great, but the housing market is skyrocketing and it is really hurting those that grew up in the area. Her own rent has gone up by a third in the last year alone and it is expected to keep rising. At these rates, she and her husband (who works at Tesla) won't be able to afford to stay in Reno much longer, which is heartbreaking because she doesn't want to leave her hometown. Everywhere I looked in the city, the things I grew up with had been knocked down and newer, shinier things have been erected in their place. Reno used to be this blue-collar, small little mountain town. A little oasis of gambling and alcoholism located at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Now technology and hipsters have moved in and are pushing out everything awesome about my beloved home town. It was hard to see.
Additionally, my own family has experienced many changes this year. My mother died in January, and we are all still reeling from the loss. This was my first visit back home since she died. It was my first visit in over a year that wasn't motivated by horrible news and urgent phone calls. If you have ever lost someone you love to a long and cruel illness, you know what it is like to by a last minute plane ticket to race to another city just to sit in a hospital room. I have made exactly that journey many times over the last two years. Between trips to chemo and trips to the ICU, I know every square foot of the hospitals in Reno, and I don't care if I ever see any of them again. Still, it was weird and sad to go back home to see my family for the first time since losing my mom, because one of us was missing, and there just isn't a way to fill that hole in all of our hearts. My father is an absolute wreck, my little brother is completely lost and none of us really know what to do with ourselves. It is hell. And what is weirder is that through all of it, we all have to keep trying to live our lives as if everything is OK, when it just really isn't. And how could it be? When the very best of us dies so slowly and so painfully and leaves us all without our hearts intact, how are we supposed to just keep on keeping on? But here we are, faking it the best we can.
After two days of car shows, my husband and I planned a short camping trip. I have not been camping since I was 18, meaning that it had been 12 years since I was last able to get out into the woods and normalize. I may live in the city, but my heart is in the forest. I grew up camping often, and I have even done some pretty serious backpacking, including a ten day backpacking trip across Lassen National park when I was a teenager. But alas, adulthood came rushing in and shoved me deep into the city and I have been desperately trying to climb my way back out again ever since. So here we were, at the very campground, in the very same campsite that all the happiest memories of my childhood took place in. Just my husband and I and the trees and the creek. It was beautiful and perfect and it made me feel more at home than I have in a decade. My family might be in absolute ruin, our core is missing, my hometown has been overrun by yuppies and hipsters, but that campsite was exactly the way that I left it 12 years ago. It has been untouched by Facebook or Uber. It has not submitted to the tide of "progress" that is threatening everything else I have come to rely on. Monday in the woods with my husband was the happiest day I have had in as long as I can remember and everything in me is looking for a way to leave the city permanently and to make some little patch of forest my home. I know it isn't practical, but I will settle for a small town life somewhere far away from the big city and desert climate of Las Vegas.
Tuesday we drove back into Sparks. We stayed in a hotel room that last night, both of us deciding we are too old and our backs are too worn out for anymore nights sleeping on sofas or air mattresses. And yesterday morning we drove back across the arid landscape of Nevada, destined for Las Vegas, where we live, but not our home. And that was the journey.
It started with a drive from Las Vegas to Reno early last Friday morning. the nearly 500 miles long road trip takes about 8 hours to complete and by mid-afternoon, we were sitting in my sister's living room in down town Reno, unloading our things from the car and getting ready to head over to Sparks to take in the sights of their Friday night Hot August Nights celebration.
If you don't know what Hot August Nights is, check it out here: https://hotaugustnights.net/
It is the largest gathering of classic cars in the world and it takes place each year in the month of August in the Reno/Sparks area. If you're into American muscle, this is definitely your scene. Our plan was to see the parade in Sparks on Friday night, then check out the happenings in Reno on Saturday night. We did manage to accomplish both of these goals quite handily and I was thrilled to see so many wonderfully preserved, restored, and customized rides cruising in my hometown. This was year number 31 of HAN, and it has grown SO much since I was a kid. In fact the entire city has grown. There were more people in attendance of this week long event than I have ever seen gathered in any one place in the Reno/Sparks area.
The Panasonic and Tesla factories have really brought in a ton of new residents and all this new growth is really putting a strain on the locals. My sister explained to me that all the new jobs are great, but the housing market is skyrocketing and it is really hurting those that grew up in the area. Her own rent has gone up by a third in the last year alone and it is expected to keep rising. At these rates, she and her husband (who works at Tesla) won't be able to afford to stay in Reno much longer, which is heartbreaking because she doesn't want to leave her hometown. Everywhere I looked in the city, the things I grew up with had been knocked down and newer, shinier things have been erected in their place. Reno used to be this blue-collar, small little mountain town. A little oasis of gambling and alcoholism located at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Now technology and hipsters have moved in and are pushing out everything awesome about my beloved home town. It was hard to see.
Additionally, my own family has experienced many changes this year. My mother died in January, and we are all still reeling from the loss. This was my first visit back home since she died. It was my first visit in over a year that wasn't motivated by horrible news and urgent phone calls. If you have ever lost someone you love to a long and cruel illness, you know what it is like to by a last minute plane ticket to race to another city just to sit in a hospital room. I have made exactly that journey many times over the last two years. Between trips to chemo and trips to the ICU, I know every square foot of the hospitals in Reno, and I don't care if I ever see any of them again. Still, it was weird and sad to go back home to see my family for the first time since losing my mom, because one of us was missing, and there just isn't a way to fill that hole in all of our hearts. My father is an absolute wreck, my little brother is completely lost and none of us really know what to do with ourselves. It is hell. And what is weirder is that through all of it, we all have to keep trying to live our lives as if everything is OK, when it just really isn't. And how could it be? When the very best of us dies so slowly and so painfully and leaves us all without our hearts intact, how are we supposed to just keep on keeping on? But here we are, faking it the best we can.
After two days of car shows, my husband and I planned a short camping trip. I have not been camping since I was 18, meaning that it had been 12 years since I was last able to get out into the woods and normalize. I may live in the city, but my heart is in the forest. I grew up camping often, and I have even done some pretty serious backpacking, including a ten day backpacking trip across Lassen National park when I was a teenager. But alas, adulthood came rushing in and shoved me deep into the city and I have been desperately trying to climb my way back out again ever since. So here we were, at the very campground, in the very same campsite that all the happiest memories of my childhood took place in. Just my husband and I and the trees and the creek. It was beautiful and perfect and it made me feel more at home than I have in a decade. My family might be in absolute ruin, our core is missing, my hometown has been overrun by yuppies and hipsters, but that campsite was exactly the way that I left it 12 years ago. It has been untouched by Facebook or Uber. It has not submitted to the tide of "progress" that is threatening everything else I have come to rely on. Monday in the woods with my husband was the happiest day I have had in as long as I can remember and everything in me is looking for a way to leave the city permanently and to make some little patch of forest my home. I know it isn't practical, but I will settle for a small town life somewhere far away from the big city and desert climate of Las Vegas.
Tuesday we drove back into Sparks. We stayed in a hotel room that last night, both of us deciding we are too old and our backs are too worn out for anymore nights sleeping on sofas or air mattresses. And yesterday morning we drove back across the arid landscape of Nevada, destined for Las Vegas, where we live, but not our home. And that was the journey.
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