not-so-lonely bugs

okay. so we've been driving through nevada for the entire afternoon -- like, 8 hours now. instead of taking 80w (like most normal people), we've decided to take US-50, better known as the "loneliest road in america." no joke. it's empty, completely and totally empty. there's some statistic that says that there's not a single supermarket for 250 miles. we've passed through tiny towns, each 50-150 miles from each other and with only one main road and few or no traffic lights. most of the towns, once filled with people and money from the copper and gold mine rushes early in the century, sit along 50, also probably due to the pony express route.

so it's vast emptiness.... but it's been amazingly beautiful. every valley that we drive through is 360 degrees of pure majesty -- looming mountains, sun-spotted farms and desert-ish bushes, single power lines, wispy and puffy clouds that reflect the sunshine, and layers upon layers of differently-hued green, blue, and gray hills. there's also good ole trusty road markers that count down miles by county, and tiny branches of dirt paths that weave off of 50. back in utah, we even noticed some of the salt flats. neato.

we're taking the road to carson city, into the night... which might not be the best idea ever because it's not well-lit (or well, not lit at all), but it's a much more direct route than 80; if we had decided to take 80w, we would've had to travel a few hundred miles northward from moab to salt lake city and then take it all the way to western nevada, where it pretty much meets up with 50 at the edge near reno and carson city. so 50 it is. the peaks are tall; we spotted a deer crossing the road in front of us (no worries, no hitting); we've seen a bunch of bunnies bouncing along the side of the road; and along the way, we even managed to help a nice guy get to the gas station after he ran out of gas (dumbbutt).


okay. but one more thing. somewhere along the way between eureka (yes, that's the name of the town) and austin, my poor car came across some strange-looking stuff scattered across the road -- for miles. me and willie both thought it might be grain.. or poop.. or dirt.. or something like that. maybe some truck spilled out or leaked its contents while driving along the lonely road. or maybe the wind had scattered some stuff across the paved route. it was a thick layer of small brown chunks.. and they would move a little with the wind. it lasted for 3 or 4 miles, and then it thinned out. and i went back to reading the map while willie drove on towards sunset. but then, a few miles later -- 5 or 10 (we're driving fast, so i can't judge distance) -- it reappeared. more brown chunks that move a little. looking a bit closer as we slowed down to avoid hydroplaning off the crap on the ground, we both thought -- bugs? and then, the layer of brown chunks got thicker -- less space between each one -- and with no wind surrounding the road, i began to notice that the chunky craps move -- JUMP -- by themselves. crunch CRUNCH crunch crunch crunch crunch squish smush CRUNNNNNNCH as the car crushes them. and willie suddenly goes -- "oooooh, maybe they're locusts or cicadas!"

his epiphany. sent. me. into. fits of cringing madness. the thick layer of brown crap on the road was a fat spread of cicadas (or locusts). the rather LARGE brown bugs were hopping, jumping, squatting all over the road for miles and miles and miles -- and MILES... and the underside of my poor car was being splattered and covered with bug guts. (it's sorta hard to see in the picture, if you look close enough, there's a layer of thick dots = bugs) EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. ew ew ew ew ew ew. GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. yucccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. splat crunch crunch splat squish crunch ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

please let me elaborate -- me and bugs: we actually get along quite well. i don't mind buzzing things, i can deal with mosquitoes, i smush ants (even the fiery red ones at arches); i calmly flick off gnats and flies and little spiders and whatnot. slugs, worms, whatever -- they're usually okay. granted, if it's a big fuzzy black spider with a red belly, i'd probably run screaming in the other direction, but compared to most girls, i'm pretty good. HOWEVER -- massive square feet of large brown bugs, no matter how harmless they may be on their own, are horrifying. HORRIFYING! it's like my worst nightmare -- do you want to be killed by swarming masses of biting bugs that surround and crawl up and around and into every crevice? and even when they die, their guts go KERSPLAT everywhere!!!!!! GROSS GROSS GROSS. gah murderous horrifying CRINGE.

AND!! midway through the miles of thick bug layer, some dude passes us.... on a MOTORCYCLE/SCOOTER! sooooooooooooooooo blegh!! all the bug splatter is being sprayed around his ankles and boots and legs and YUCK!!! oh nasty.

yes nasty. willie just laughs at me hysterically. gee.

attempting to ignore the crunchiness of stupid large bugs interfering with the smooth paved calm and lonely road.....

the sun's setting, and there's only a faint glow of reddish/yellowish color that peeks from behind the mountaintops. right now, 50 is a straight shot, and i can see the little blinks of headlights from the oncoming cars, miles down the road. the moon is a thin sliver -- and it currently sits above a gray-blue cloud in the fading sky. we just passed through austin, another itty-bitty town along the route. imagine an old, kinda deserted mining town. that's austin, nv. as we slowed down to 35mph to drive through, there's a single tennis court on the left side, a few houses crookedly sitting on lopsided hills, two or three dirt paths running upwards for a few hundred yards, some old, dusty, and gray-ish storefronts that once may have held thriving businesses 50 to 100 years ago. there's a motel or two, one named "pony canyon" or something.. and the "vacancy" neon light doesn't glow very brightly. three kids are playing around on their bikes on the side of the road, and we pass by the town saloon (seriously, "saloon"), and a woman and man -- he's got a busy white mustache and long beard and plaid shirt -- are roping. or at least, playing around with coils of rope. the saloon has the stereotypical (but now that i've seen it, maybe "real" after all?) large western-swirly letters that spell out SALOON and BAR... and it's bright with music and beer inside. some old, long sedans sit abandoned (or used?) here and there... and there's a small convenience store with casino signs on the outside, and near the end of town, i saw a tiny laundromat with 3 or 4 machines, open for business. we passed through austin in less than 5 minutes. an old mining town. in a way, it was like a snapshot from life during the mining rushes from way back when. like those photos that you see in history textbooks where guys in strapping boots pose stoic-ly on the porch of a house... but today, it's actually 2006, where the other half of the world has cell phones and computers and carpal tunnel syndrome, and these people live along a 2-lane road in the middle of nevada where there's a roping arena but no grocery or bookstore. interesting, isn't it? kinda cool. in that strange and intriguing way.

hmm...