On Wednesday September 7 I drove out of sunny Livermore, CA and headed east toward the wild plains of Nevada, armed with only the necessities: a roll of toilet paper, some light reading, and a big-ass knife.
Driving east, I passed through the beautiful mountains of eastern California. I decided stop for lunch at a rest stop, and heard the sounds of a pleasant, babbling brook. Following the sound, I came across something less than pleasant.
I chose not to drink. Eventually, I ended up at Rye Patch State Recreation Area, located in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. Despite being situated in the center of a giant dirt field, it was actually fairly pretty.
After eating a tasty dinner of avocado mixed with tuna fish and smeared on a cold bagel, I took a short hike around the reservoir. At one point, I came across a bench overlooking the water, and saw this:
I couldn't agree more.
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