Optical illusion or pearl of light?

Most of Tonopah is below ground.

Outhouse behind Mizpah Hotel.
Note the TP still on the roll.

On the surface, streets and buildings

Rm. 501
Outdoor spotlights shining into our room
made sleep the first night nearly impossible.

rest precariously on twisting, overlapping,

Keeping out the light.

intersecting mazes of miner's tunnels

"Pearl" or glitch?
That white dot isn't in the other
other photos I took of the curtain.

miles and miles long.

Lady in Red's "pearl" or optical illusion?

They are the real Tonopah.

Last Dance in Tonopah

It's that time in Tonopah again.

I assume the small chairs in the lobby are for
the ghost children who are said to haunt the hotel.

But this time it's the last time. At least for now. I'm really going to miss this place. It's been a long run.

Main Street at night.

But the Mizpah is (finally) open so, for this last and final trip, we've got a room there. It's a good farewell. I've been photographing the place for years while it was closed and shuttered. I never thought I'd actually get inside, much less stay there.

Open at last.

We're on the 5th floor, right next to the room of the Lady in Red. As the story goes, she was strangled just outside our door. That was in the 1920s and ever since people have reported that she still walks the hallways and occasionally leaves a pearl from her broken necklace on a pillow. No disrespect, but I'll let you know if anything strange happens.

The Mizpah at last

I'm just back from my spring trip to the lovely semi-ghost town of Tonopah Nevada. 

The desk clerk told us they sometimes hear
children talking who are not there. That made
the strange miniature furniture look really eerie.

The big news this year is that the Mizpah Hotel has finally re-opened.

Last year...outside in.

I've been photographing the place through the windows for years.

Now I finally got in.

This year...inside out.

There have been other changes around town as well.

That photo I found a few years ago of the guy posing with a beer is gone.

Gone....

It was in the cave/cabin on the floor with all the junk so, for safekeeping, I stashed it between some stones in the rock face of the "cabin". However, this spring it was gone so another face disappears into Tonopah's fading past. Also, the abandoned tailor's shack up the street that still housed some wonderful antique equipment is gone.

Little remained of tailor's
shop from days gone by.

I'm hoping the museum folks rescued the equipment. I don't think it was in the rubble but then I didn't dig around.

Tailor shop today, collapsed and gone.

And, as I mentioned before, the little store Hippies of Tonopah is gone, not the building itself, but Hippy. Graffiti inside reads "Ur Gay". So much for love in diversity. 

But no time to mourn to past.

The ghosts of Tonopah Present haunt us even now...

Goblin of the Fifth Floor

...not only the goblin that accosted us as we explored the hotel...

The Lady in Red

...but the ghost the Lady in Red herself. Legend has it that she was stabbed to death by a jealous lover in the hallway outside of her room, 502, and haunts the hotel to this day. Naturally, we tried reserving her room for our stay next fall but it was already booked. But we will be in room 501. Close enough. I'm already spooked. The building itself is morose and vaguely threatening. I was happy to get back down to the lobby and glad to re-emerge back out under the blue desert sky.

I posted more photos of the Mizpah here.

Touch down and take off

Tonapah's legendary ghost,
the Lady in Red

I just got back from my bi-annual weekend in lovely Tonopah, semi-ghost town and still and always, Queen of the Silver Camps. Once again, the guy ahead of me in the hotel check-in line won the Tonopah Station lucky roll of the dice free room. I did not, again. But the Big News from Tonopah is that somebody finally bought the Mizpah Hotel, probably for pennies on the dollar, and the place is scheduled to reopen in a couple of weeks. I hope they do better making their deadline than the Belvedere Hotel across the street. The sign announcing the Belvedere's 2008 reopening still hangs on the front of the building above the broken windows, fading into oblivion. This trip, I counted more broken windows at the ol' Belvedere but was puzzled by the lack of pigeons who normally reside there. I am not going to say foul play? No. I will not even think it.

Anyway, the Mizpah wins my Tonopah Zombie Hotels Back from the Dead Award (for the day) so my hat is off to them. I hope I get a chance to tour the place before it closes again. I have been photographing it through the windows for years. I really want to meet the Mizpah's legendary Lady in Red who tragically, in a crime of passion, was murdered on the fifth floor back in the 1920s. It's not because the new owners claim she leaves pearls under people's pillows. I dig ghosts.

Tomorrow we leave again, this time for points north. Got to have tea with Ms. Thea Bella and Baby Leo. I realize I'm pushing the limit still calling Leo a baby now that he's turned one, but come on... I've hardly spent any time with him. Once he starts walking I'll stop. It won't be long. These days it's all he wants to do. So, our odyssey Cross Country American Road Trip (Florida and back again to Washington and back again) won't be officially over until mid-October when Kimberlee, Mr. Reid (he's two) and I do our Portland meet-up.

So, what the hell am I doing fiddling around with my blog? Must. Pack. Now. See you on the road.

Notes from the plane

Just after I got to the Southwest boarding gate yesterday I realized that I'd left my phone at home and muttered "god damn it!" under my breath in an emphatic and more or less fairly loud voice causing an old couple seated nearby to recoil and stiffen like irritated cats. I immediately plopped down, pulled out my laptop, skyped M. Lee and left a very contrite message that went something like "please please mail my phone as soon as possible, like today". Overhearing that, a really nice guy sitting one row over jumped up and offered his phone so I could call mine. That threw the cats off a bit though they managed to continue radiating disapprove. But no phone.

This is getting old. Last weekend I left my phone charger in Tonopah. A replacement is on the way. Now the phone. The worst part is that I tired, I really tried to pack right. I'm experimenting with a smaller bag and everything counts. I checked and rechecked. Two of this, one of that and not much of anything. Then I leave the damn phone.

~Contest with the Gods~

Right after the plane took off and we got the business of oxygen masks and flotations devices out of the way, one of the flight attendants rushed me a cup of coffee before anyone else got served. Perhaps you are thinking, "God! Was she that distraught"? I tell you. No. I trust M. Lee. The phone and charger will come. So why did I get two cups of coffee? Simple. The gods are toying with me. And why? Because I brought the white jacket. 

This jacket has hung in my closet since I got it, two years ago. I've never worn it. I've been afraid. On me, white attracts disaster at every turn. I think about wearing white and tomato sauce foments in the can. My own pen turns on me like an inksaber possessed. Coffee refuses to stay in the cup.

As it did on the plane.

That first cup of coffee, compliments of the gods? It tipped over and spilled toward the pristine white jacket cradled safely, I thought, on my lap. It missed by half a centimeter. And when my daughter picked me up at the airport carrying her barista special? Unlikely globs of coffee sloshed at me through the lid. The score? So far? So good. It's on, bitches.

More from Tonopah

The strange hills of Tonopah

The road goes straight to town

Convention Center (L) Belvedere Hotel (R) home to many pigeons

Ramada casino display.

Old Roma Cafe on the outskirts of town.

Tonopah in the spring

Lovely Tonopah. It's like coming home.
The baby bunny in the road

had no interest in moving for
the jeep even when I honked. 

When we finally

got to the Ramada

I rolled for the free room.

It takes three of a kind to win.

The guy checking in ahead of us won.

I did not.

Local News at 9:47 AM

I really don't have time to do a blog post right now. The moment I finished writing that sentence Mr. Lee leaned into my room and asked his most annoying tone, Are you doing a blooooog post, Ahhhhhh-shaaaaaaaa? WTF? Is the spiral collapsing in on itself?

No. Not to worry. More coffee will fix everything. This morning it must be sweet and delicious. I am feeling pressed. Too much to do. Too little time. My life is working in reverse from 4 AM this coming Thursday. Our flight to Hawaii departs at 6 AM for which I haven't packed plus I have a doctor's appointment right in the middle of tomorrow so, you see, I am already out of time. It will be nice being warm for a few days but it's a working trip so we will be inside most of the time however I do promise you a photo or two of leathery octogenarian lizards basking on the Waikiki beach, or at least photos of twenty-something who look like octogenarians because of sun damage.

Things are heating up all around. Today I have to go to Reno and in a couple more weeks my yearly spring trip to Tonopah is coming up. There I will do my best to grab a few new photos from my favorite graveyard and check up on how other around-the-ghost-town favs are doing in their long slow dissolve back into the desert hard pack. After that I must visit Thea and Ashley and the rest of the crew in Portlandia, Baby Leo in Great Falls and my Little Brother who dwells in the Land of Science all before leaving on the too fast approaching ERT (Epic Road Trip) across America, with a detour to Costa Rica because it's a hop from Florida, beginning in mid-May. Holy god! Must have more coffee.

My little brother needs rescuing but is damn resistant to distraction. All around him friends are retiring and calling to invite him to do frivolous things like meet for lunch so, one by one, he tells me he is having to let them go. They shouldn't take it personally. He's always been like that. Focused. When we were kids he spent most of his time in his little science lab in the basement working on designs for three-stage rockets and fiddling with the magic of crystal radios. These days seems the life of the Great Columbia River hangs by the thread he carefully calculates for the Bonneville Power Assoc. from his Den of Science overlooking Puget Sound and Pike Place Market but, other than that, nothing has change.

Okay. It's now two cups of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal past the hour. Now I really really really have to stop writing about things and start doing things.

Transitions

I'm in Concord tonight helping with a quasi-emergency kind of thing, nothing too serious (probably) but urgent. We have the weekend to close out the apartment of an incapacitated family member. I have to say, it puts things in a very peculiar light.

Anyway, here are a few photos from last week in Tonopah.









Karaoke goodness is pretty rich but if you're up for more, I posted the second video here.

Local news at 6:45

The magpies had to fight the wind to land in the Bird Park this morning. A storm is blowing in. Mr. Lee is ecstatic but he's a ski bum. The birds are not happy. At the moment one just jumped into the middle of the yarrow bush and tucked a tasty nugget there. Hope she remembers. The wind is blowing with such force, she is having trouble navigating even on the ground. Carson Valley is famous for its wind anyway. It blasts over the Sierra with such force that, even on sunny summer days, the currents offer world class conditions for glider planes. It's not so good for cyclists, runners, riders, hikers or anyone else in it. Makes even a walk to the mailbox an uphill trek both ways.

The magpies are still busy stashing food for the upcoming storm. I have been feeding them cheap small dog kibble lately. They seem to like it okay and I like it because it's cheaper than peanuts and not messy. Peanuts are problematic. It's the shells. I go in cycles. Sometimes I shell them, sometimes the birds do. When I toss out whole peanuts these days, I do less. That way, competition remains high and the birds fly off to guard their treasure, thus shelling them, you know, elsewhere. Does that make me a horrible person?

Just got back from Tonopah. Great weekend but I didn't take many photos this trip but I will post some soon.

Tonopah

Behind on everything but this morning I'm off to Tonopah for the weekend. See ya from there.

Home away from home

We're in Tonopah for the weekend.

Again.

Downtown Tonopah without the
Mizpah, Nevada's most haunted hotel,
as the centerpiece.

This is my 13th assembly here in seven years. On the surface nothing's changed much although, since we were here last, the town has put up a spiffy new official sign on 395. You can see it in the first photo. And, by the way, the Mizpah Hotel will be on the auction block September 16th. That's just a few days away! Just think. It could be yours for a song.




The Ramada didn't have our reservation so we're at the Economy Inn for half the price, $35 a night. It's not as bad as it looks from the street plus it has free wi-fi and a great view if you like defunct mining/desert ghost town scenarios. However, the clowns next door carried on until 6 in the morning. Given the volume of their voices and the number of "fuck him, fuck thems and fuck hers" they had to be out of their pea brains on speed and booze.

The sticker on the windshield of the Mustang parked outside their door explains that the car is being moved from Vegas to Portland by a hired driver, so hopefully they are, by this time, gone. Otherwise the manager promised to move them to the front, a place he reserves for Assholes.

Desert elan

Of course, changed or not, I photographed the same old roadside apparitions we pass every time we take 395... Luning and Mina which are wide spots in the road which are well on their way to becoming ghost towns and a roadside brothel called Playmate Ranch.




You will be happy to hear they are all doing well, ie they are still inhabited.

Playmate Ranch (brothel)

White limo at gas station next door to Playmate Ranch

My favorite photos from the trip so far are of the fat, flat, white clouds drifting east although they suggest rain by Sunday, which is exactly when we head out into the Great Basin for a week of camping. Lovely. Well, rain here usually evaporates before hitting the ground but we shall see. We're leaving early tomorrow morning.

Home again

The graveyard, the Savannah Memorial Park Pioneer Cemetery, was a bust, by Nevada standards sterile and tame. It got a drive-by. We didn't even bother getting out of the car. Historic? Old graves. Okay. In America anyway but Z-E-R-O character. Now Nevada has graveyards. Desert crazed. Lovely. Lonely. Graveyards. If you are very quite, you can just make out, mixed in with the wind, lingering sighs.

Turns out the motel had coffee in the office after all, plus cold orange juice, danish in cellophane and free copies of USA Today. Makes up for the hair choked shower. We would definitely stay there again. The knock out feature was its incredibly thick walls. I really hate motels with thin walls. I do not want to be hostage to TVs and toilets and late night conversations through the wall. We did not hear a peep at the Rodeway Inn. Now Del Mar Ave. was another matter. Getting past that required ear plugs and Valerian root tablets.

Now we're home until Friday then off to Tonopah for the weekend then we're headed back out to camp in the Great Basin until Thursday.