Elle Zhu
Dreams of a Mobile Life

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Updates on life, photography, and the importance of being earnest.

The Great Basin Misadventures

My answer to an upcoming four-day weekend was a road trip to the desert.  This landscape has earned a permanent hold in my appreciation of the outdoors.  Somewhere between the sunsets and the silence, the desert became familiar and welcome.  In this terrain, the geological vertebrae of the land are laid bare.  Here is where the wind and water has shaped the rocky spine of the earth. The hills catch light and their shadows throw contrast to an often monochromatic scene. Even that is not really true. There is a myriad of colors hidden in the desert that exists ephemerally. Twice a day these colors appear with the rising and setting of the sun.

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My friend Jane and I sketched an outline of a trip that involved hot springs along Highway 50, exploring the Lehman caves in Great Basin National Park, then visiting sequentially: Capitol Reef, Grand Staircase-Escalante, Bryce Canyon, and finally Zion.  Packed and ambitious, we took off with high spirits and stayed the first night at Cold Springs station- a tiny pullout off of America’s Loneliest Highway.  I was excited to share a slice of vanlife with Jane and in my heart, felt it would be a good last hurrah for ole Silas the Sprinter!

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The next day awakened with promise and vigor and we were motoring along with the wind in our sails.  First up was a new experience for me- real hot springs!  I gleefully jumped into the warm waters of a natural hot spring in the middle of the Nevada desert.   My toes curled in the silted mud and I relished the heat which contrasted with the cold, dry air.

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The dip made us late for the Lehman cave tour in Great Basin National Park but the rangers generously let us in despite being 40 minutes tardy, and even let us stay behind for a bit of private exploration.  Perhaps we used up all our good fortune for the day because on the way up Wheeler Peak to see the famous bristlecone pines, suddenly I was pressing the accelerator pedal but no fuel was pumping through.  In a blink, our road trip was headed into a very different adventure and experience.

Suddenly we needed to accept that despite being less than 20 miles away from Utah, we were not going to make it there.  The cold, the dying light, the absence of people, and the total lack of a plan moving forward froze our mental and physical faculties. This breakdown at nearly 10,000 feet was perhaps the worst type of altitude sickness.  I would’ve preferred the more conventional kind.  But let’s count our blessings: we were in a van with food, water, and a blanket palace to keep us warm. We had just enough cell phone service to make a call to AAA.  Then we waited and readjusted our expectations. Commence rescue mission Nevada! 

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After an interminable wait of five hours, tow truck driver Brett and his friend Mike arrived to tow us down the mountain.  But first, in a fit of irony, we had to head to the top of Wheeler Peak (our initial destination) because the truck needed room to turn this whole mess around. After our 80-mile tow ride to the closest town of Ely, Nevada, we had to dig in for the uncertain future of Silas the Sprinter van. The next day dragged on and we met a few members of the town of Ely.  What characters they were!  First, there was Andre the auto mechanic with all the off-color stories of Korea.  Then Brett and Mike appeared again (out of boredom?) to check in on the status of our van.  This was an almost depressing thought- to know we were the curiosity of the town.  As we sat and watched the people of Ely drive down the main strip, we got a glimpse of what small town life was like.  Here was a place where practical matters occupy the hours and any permutation in the days is palpable. 

In the late afternoon, it became certain that our van wasn’t going to be fixed today or even the week after.  There was nothing to do but let them order parts and leave the van there.  But what to do about getting us home?  This was met with some uncertain comments from our mechanic, Andre.  It seems that there are no rental cars or public transportation out of Ely.  Simply, if you didn’t have a car or truck, you weren’t getting out. 

Never one to turn down a challenge, I remembered that last night, Mike was returning to Carson City after finishing up some business of his in Ely.  I called the tow truck business and asked if he was still around- he was.  In fact, he was planning to head back the next morning and did we mind if he had a six-month-old chocolate lab in the back?  Not at all!  I am always down for a free hitch especially when it involves puppies. In a stroke of further luck, Jane’s dad was a small aircraft pilot as a hobby and he was willing to gallantly fly into Carson City tomorrow to pick us up.  With our escape plan in place, there was nothing left to do but make dinner and entertain ourselves.

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We found the only (and actually quite impressive) movie theatre in town and caught the one showing of Thor that day.  It seemed that all the people of Ely were here sitting with us.  Watching a movie was such a relief from the anxious readjusting of expectations and revising our wobbly futures.  Finally, we didn’t have to think about survival and escape because here the entertainment was provided for us.

When we returned to the van, I thought- this was truly the best version of the worst case scenario.  The national parks will always be there but the people we meet by chance along the way must be sought after. How did we make it out?  By surviving on human kindness and the generosity of strangers.

The next day went by quickly because we knew what was in store.  It’s funny how long the hours feel when you don’t know what comes next and how quickly it rushes by when it becomes pre-ordained.  Mater, the chocolate lab puppy, did not disappoint in his adorable cuddliness. Mike was a quiet companion in the car although we did manage to coax a few stories out of him from when he was a prison guard.  Without much ado, we made it to Carson City and Jane’s dad was already there waiting for us in the small municipal airport.  The flight back in the roomy Cherokee Six was one of the best plane rides I’ve ever taken.  I was treated with panoramic aerial views of Lake Tahoe as we headed into the sunset.  The lights of the surrounding cities turned on and grew brighter as the natural light of the day faded.  As we touched down, our rescue mission was complete.

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That should have been the end of this story.  But there was the issue of my poor, broken Sprinter van lying in the middle of the Nevada desert.  It was an understatement to say it weighed heavily on my mind.  Stay tuned...Rescue Silas Part 2 to come!