Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 02:36:21 -0500
To:heublein@bellsouth.net, cal@gsbs.uchicago.edu, Danielle_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com,
ecb5u@virginia.edu, homunculus@mindspring.com, Rich_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com,
SNAFU@CC.MUSIC.UGA.EDU, smw4s@virginia.edu, ryssa@virginia.edu, geof@neuron.nrl.navy.mil,
joeboy@VNET.IBM.COM, cbw2c@virginia.edu, weishaupt@aol.com, WeilacherG@lynx.aon.af.mil,
brs@s-1.com, fife@s-1.com, abhijit@s-1.com
From:fuchs@med.stanford.edu (Michael Fuchs)
Subject:Day 7

Fuchs Overland Dispatch, Day 7
Dateline: Tonopah, NV
2.18.97

West of Flagstaff, random mountains in the shape of volcanos jut out of
the otherwise flat brown horizon. Puffy white clouds are draped like
tinsel on a sky so blue it makes you want to dive in. I heard for real a
radio station promo I had previously assumed to be apocryphal: "After
intensive research, we have determined that all Flagstaff radio stations
suck. We just suck a little less." The funniest part was that they were
absolutely correct. A *tumbleweed* rolled across the highway right in
front of my path!

Truly Insane Stretches of Straight Road (Makes You Dizzy, Doesn't It?)

Kingman AZ is 3000 houses in the shadow of some big rocks in the middle of
the desert. Not one structure is over 2 stories high, and the tallest
thing made by man seems to be the Burger King sign. The town is a rough
spot in the smooth sand.

The desert gets hot; I pulled to the shoulder to change into cutoffs and a
tanktop. Peter Gabriel's twin badland anthems, "San Jacinto" and "The
Rhythm of the Heat" kept going through my head all day. I fulfilled a
lifelong dream: topping out a 17-foot UHaul truck in the salt flats. Woo
hoo.

I saw Hoover Dam--quite a dam(n) piece of work.

The Near Side of the Dam

To the Right, Whence the River Flows

The Serious Side of the Dam. No Matter Where You Stand, You Can't See the Bottom

I saw Lake Mead, a little sea in the desert.

Lake Mead

Las Vegas is one serious no-taste place: bars, sex shops, bail bondsmen,
drive-through wedding chapels, liquor stores, pawn shops, and tattoo parlors,
world without end. Now I understand why everyone is so notoriously anxious
to leave this berg; 45 minutes was plenty for me. I briefly contemplated
spending the night there, maybe trying to catch George Carlin live. I settled
for taking a few snapshots out the truck window, capturing such landmarks
as the Sahara, the Sands, the Mirage, and the Taco Bell on the Strip.

Thought This Was Simply Phone Sex; Then I Saw That the Number Was Local, and I Remembered That Prositution is Legal in Nevada. This Was Sex By Phone. Slight Difference.

The Border's Never Far

Just as Las Vegas 107.5, Extreme Radio, was fading, they played Primus'
"Winona & Her Big Brown Beaver"--a song you just never hear enough
anymore. "Winona took her big brown beaver / And she held it up in the air
/ She said 'I sure do love my big brown beaver / And I wish I did have a
pair'." (The Extreme actually *came back* much later, after the sun set
and the troposphere contracted a bit.) I was excited to discover Starbucks
now markets mocha frappucinos, in convenience stores. However, I was
somewhat disappointed with the implementation.

Driving through the desert at night was remarkable. There was the Big
Dipper, as big as I've ever seen it. Trying to determine, in the dark, the
distances of the stretches of road, I made the following calculation: I
noted the time as a pair of oncoming headlights appeared on the horizon. I
was going 85 mph, so I assumed that car and I had a relative (combined)
speed of no less than 150 mph--and I met up with that car 4 minutes and
20 seconds later. That works out to a line-of-sight unobstructed distance
(when I first saw the car) of 10.825 miles. Which is totally insane.

Shooting stars on the velvet canvas of the desert sky.


Miles Travelled Today: 492.4
Total Miles Travelled: 2475.0

Tomorrow: Into CA, and through Yosemite National Park.


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