Jill's Journal:
Funny story: In Tahoe City the other day, we ran into probably a dozen people that Rob knew. Several of them asked where we were headed next. Invariably, as soon as we said, “Carson City,” each one visibly winced and said, “Carson…why?”
I figured the capital of Nevada couldn’t be that bad. But tonight, we’re in a not-so-nice campground and the people next to us are blasting music that began with John Denver, moved on to 80s power ballads, and can now only be described as some sort of bizarre Latino opera/gospel combination. Whatever it is, the singer of the moment sounds like he’s dying an agonizing death. How I’d love to put him out of his misery.
We weren’t planning to be in Carson City proper, but the decent-looking campground we were headed to out of town required a 10-mile drive on a mountain pass. At the foot of the road was a big flashing digital sign warning, “Danger: High Wind Advisory. Trucks, Trailers, RVs Not Advised.” There were already strong winds and Rob remembers seeing a video years ago about tractor trailers overturning on that very road. We decided it was safer to brave the Latino death music than Mother Nature.
In the meantime, we’ve found a halfway-decent campground near town on a road not under the mercy of wind. We’ll move tomorrow. Here’s hoping Carson City improves off our first impressions! If not, we’ll pay a little more attention the next time people wince.
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