A Visit to Carson City

Daisy's grandmom lives about 300 miles away in Carson City, Nevada. Off we went on Saturday to pay her a holiday visit. This time of year you never know what you'll encounter on the way up, particularly over Carson Pass, which is a very popular cross-country ski area for a reason. We've hit many a nasty snowstorm through this area, which reaches an elevation of 8,650 feet. We thought it was our lucky day when we reached Ham's Station and the road was still clear. Then the sky started to darken. A steady rain turned to snow, and there we were in the Mini Cooper, snow chains snugly behind the seat and the road rapidly turning to ice.

Daisy closed her eyes and put her head between a couple of blankets. I held on to the seat and Tom drove, very carefully, all the while insisting that the car was hugging the road beautifully. When we got to the black asphalt on the other side, we pulled over, jumped out and took a deep breath in the chill air.

We reached Carson Valley early enough for dinner. Mom had the foresight to have a pot of split pea soup simmering on the stove. Her place was toasty and brightly lit, and she had put the cat to bed in another room. Daisy lumbered in and sniffed around while the humans all greeted one another with hugs. She walked straight over to the Christmas tree and sidled up next to it. Before we could catch her, there our Daisy was, squatting, despite apparently having emptied her bladder moments ago. And so our visit began.