Looking around on Reno's outskirts, the possibilities for a comfy or inexpensive place to stay looked bleak. My map showed nothing between where I sat in Golden Valley and possibly Chillcoot, Ca, Chillcoot being farther than I felt like riding after 36 hours awake. I stalled as long as I could in a Subway, under the pretense of charging my phone, till I decided to just start riding and trust Providence. About two minutes after that decision, in walked three men in local volunteer fire-rescue tshirts. I asked one if he knew a place I could throw down my tent, hoping for a spot not too far off-route behind the local fire station.
After a minute of coming up with nothing, he rrmembered that there was an RV campground just on the state line, at Bordertown (not evident on my AAA map). I rolled 15 more miles on the smooth, wide shoulder of US395, to the cleanest, friendliest RV park of tbe trip. I'm truly grateful.
Shot of the tent and a dry lake bed just after the big climb and descent into the Sierra territory.