End of First Day

Andreas Paepcke

Jul 2, 2026

Comfort Inn, Winnemucca

← Full trip map Still tuning my new blogging setup. Trip is from Menlo Park to Seattle via the Grand Tetons, Canadian Rockies. The usual deal: I won't polish the prose, else I'll never ship anything. I speak my mind, no deference to modern sensibilities of the young generations.

Hello Muddah, Hello Fuddah, Here I am, In Winnemucca

Landed in Winnemucca after an 8 hour ride, with just a three 30 minute or so breaks. Decades of not exercising have uniquely prepared me for sitting motionless, while the world glides past me.

Thanks to encouraging sendoffs from several friends, emotions are fine. They were, in order, irritation, guilt, and smiley peace. Irritation with traffic in the Bay Area. I was prepared for just about anything up to the Richmond bridge. I reached it within an hour.

But to me, that's where Bay Area ends, and fluid traffic begins. Yet, at this point, the BA reaches way beyond. Traffic flows at 70mph, but then every town needs to brag that it too can bring I80 to a standstill, as impressively as Berkeley. Why does Travis need traffic jams on I80? I already respect it for its Air Force base. Nut Tree? Really?

I successfully stemmed road rage, and ascended into the Sierras. That's where the guilt broke in. I noticed the beauty, but I've been there many times. I'm impatient for new. So where is my "be here, now?" spirit? This is beautiful, Andreas. Let it touch you. I just couldn't. So, I focused on guilt around my poor meditation skills, beating myself up until finally, after Reno, it all felt new.

The desert all around me changed as the sun dipped to my left, and a shadow repica of me and the bike rode along on the emergency strip to my right. I felt peaceful, finally, as my motorcycle carressed miles.

Water on bike — Innovation for this trip: water on the pillion seat. The yellow net holds my new Macra Evo jacket

Winnemucca Accommodation

My Comfort Inn in Winnemucca needs a new manager. Right off the bat, two signs at the desk. Paraphrasing:

"Our pool is out of order---indefinitely. We are sorry for the inconvenience".

OK, that haqppens. A second sign, right next to the first:

"Our phone lines are out of order. We are desolate for the inconvenience this may cause you."

Andreas: "Will there be a coke machine on my floor?"

"Only on the first floor"

When I get to that machine, the screen flashes:

"This machine is all sold out. We are crushed by the misery we are causing you."

I then realize there is no desk in my room for blogging, so I ask at the reception:

"Is there any way at all you might have a folding desk?"

Before I even continue, I can see it in her face "I am so sorry..."

"How about just a chair that I can use as a desk in front of the armchair?"

"Sorry, all our chairs are for the casino, not for our guests."

But it's fine. I am in the armchair, elbows squeezed against my body, laptop balanced on my lap, legs on the tilted foldable luggage stand. Roughing it.

The Humbold Museum

Surely, all of have visited the Humbold museum in Winnemucca. It is not my favorite tiny shack, but you just need the right spirit. Which was sagging as I had paid no attention to my hunger pangs, fuzzing with computing setups in the hotel. Both receptionists of the entirely empty museum were realy sweet. They gave me nuts, and sold me a soda. All I needed.

Nuts on lap — Hypoglycemic, and Saved by the Museum staff

Old telephone — Hypoglycemic, and Saved by the Museum staff

Apart from the usual horsed and horseless carriages, they had moved an entire episcopal church, and a turn of the 20th century house to the grounds. The house was restored down to the wallpaper that was recreated manually.

You have all seen this type of furnishings, and thought about long ago those were used. But my Dad was born in 1898, and I knew him. Their house would have had this type of insides.

Soda factory — Local bottled soda water factory

Writing desk — Local bottled soda water factory

All the Old Habits Alive

I notice on this trip yet again that I have deeply ingrained grooves of habits. The need for paper road maps, in case the Russians or Chinese scramble our GPS. The inability to fold those maps against their creases. Horror at the thought of drawing on them.

Incessant checking for the motorcycle jacket zipper rings to ensure I won't lose my credit cards. Forgetting again the little backback for outings on foot. I bought my fifth at Winnemucca's Walmart. My puzzlement at the hotel bathtub faucets. You, my faithful readers have seen my many photos of those infernal over-redesigned devices. I already scalded myself twice, trusting that I'd figured it out.

Triangles — Across centuries and continents: the triangle as basic static structural element. (the Episcopal church)

Son forgets — Across centuries and continents: the triangle as basic static structural element. (the Episcopal church)