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Despite the look of the sky, we decided to go forward. But within an hour, we were in the midst of snow flurries and encountering patches of black ice. We drove for an hour on an unsanded road, increasingly convinced that it would only get worse as we wound our way to Reno. So we stopped at Tonopah, Nevada, had a grim---foodwise and conversationwise--dinner at the casino there, and decided to turn back to Beatty. We checked into the clean but utlilitarian motel there amidst howling wind and went to bed. I was thankful for a warm bed as, for a little while out there on the highway, it had seemed a possibility that we'd end up at the side of the road, like the two cars we passed. The next day we got up and decided that, if southern Oregon was not to be, perhaps southern California was achievable. We got out the map and decided to head through Death Valley down to Santa Barbara. Sun, warmth and ocean seemed a just recompense for a missed family wedding.
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North America
