The road seemed the same as it had been in 1974 when this future desert wanderer began my sojourns to the Northern Mojave.
The monthly travelogue from the-ever itinerant Maderan, Leon Emo.
It had been too long, or as my Timbisha Shoshone friend in Death Valley would tell me after not seeing me for months, “It has been too many moons.”
Even if you don’t like them, a West Coast team will be fighting it out with an East Coast team for the championship of pro football on Feb. 3.
“It’s not like the old days.” “It’s not the same.” “We just stay at home, nowadays.” These are the frequent phrases yours truly has heard this past week about what Maderans were going to do on New Year’s.
Every week, except in the dead of winter, thousands of people drive out of Reno or Carson City to visit the historic Comstock town of Virginia City.
Note: The last in the series of the author’s memories of San Francisco in 1967 and the Summer of Love.
My gal and I had taken Highway 101 to the Bay too many times to remember — in our younger days to party in the City, but lately it seemed to see a specialist for heart or back, or for a hospital stay.