My second morning in Reno wasspent moseying up Virginia St. then down south of the river takingpictures and sipping coffee. After a brief rest at the the hotel,I ventured back south of the river again for brunch at Bertha Miranda'sMexican Restaurant [seeblog post].
With half of my appetizer in hand I revisited Yvonne at work toshare the wealth, then we peruse nearby Twin City Surplus.Afterward I visited the Amtrak stationwhere I was able to get a sleeper upgrade for my segment to SaltLake city for a mere $21.10, about a fifth of what's normallycharged online. Giddy, I danced a jig right on the spot!
That night I sought out familiar places from my last visit toReno in 2007, starting off with cocktails at The Patio, a friendlygay/lesbian bar where this stranger was once again greeted withsmiles and left with well-wishes for my return trip home. My lonecomplaint was the cigarette smoke, a common feature in Nevadabars. I knocked down a well-poured gin & tonic, but intrigueswitched me over to Three Olives Supercolavodka on the rocks. Surprisingly good cola flavor!
My next stop was the 5Star Saloon, another gay haunt, where I enjoyed a pricey butstiff tall rum & coke. Needing a pep-me-up I popped intonearby Java Junglefor an iced Americano, pleased to see the same barista working thecounter as the day before [seeblog post]. Catching a good look at the pizza servedhere I thought I'd found where to eat that night, until thebarista explained there was a 45 minute backlog on orders. I wascrestfallen, as well as pert near deaf from the DJ's grooves.
I quaffed my last beverage – a bracing Sierra Nevada TorpedoExtra IPA – at the SierraTap House just down the hallway and a flight of stairs fromJava Jungle. A delightful, mocha-toned beauty with a liltingvoice gave me pause to swoon, but the dude next to me with B.O.kept my focus grounded to finishing my pint and leaving.
Desirous of pizza I moseyed east to Slice of the Peak to findthey had closed an hour earlier. Not keen on Pizza Reno nor the walk toJ.J.'s Pie Co. I settled for aburger downtown, but not just any burger. I sought out the Awful-Awfulat the Little Nugget Diner in the rear of The Nugget casino onVirginia St., in the shadow of the Reno Arch [seeblog post].
The excesses of the evening – alcohol, caffeine, animal flesh,grease and second-hand smoke – led to a night populated withwhacked-out dreams.
On my final morning in Reno I had resolved to skip breakfast andsnag a carryout pizza for the train trip across Nevada thatafternoon. Restlessness and unexpected hunger had other plans. Andso I returned to the Little Nugget Diner for breakfast.
I killed some time idly riding around west Reno with Yvonne andOkie. It wasn't so much of the quality time I had desired before Iparted ways, but it was what it was.
Later at the Amtrak station I absentmindedly set my sunglassesdown at a water fountain, remembered them five minutes later andfound they had disappeared. After some stewing I walked back to myhotel next door for a sixteen dollar pair of shades from the giftshop.
Aboard the sleeper I found many roomettes and deluxe sleepers empty. Even the family sleeper behind me was unoccupied for theduration. However I had a pair of Alabama-bound neighbors acrossthe aisle fretting over their connection in Chicago so I pretty muchkept my door shut the whole trip back.
“Highball Reno.” On-time departure.
That night I had regrets about the time I didn't spend withYvonne and Okie, mostly of my design. I stretched my legs a bit atour brief stop in Elko before retiring for the night.
| Photos from the Picasa Web Album: Labor Day Trip 2012 |
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