She left Fresno for cleaner air. Then the forest fire smoke arrived and engulfed Reno
It’s been just over a year since my wife and I exited Fresno and headed up Highway 99 to embark on a new adventure in Reno.
My iPhone photos memorialize our exodus. A typed note, font 22, taped to a huge potted succulent we decide can’t make the move, “This succulent is dormant, NOT DEAD OR DYING. It doesn’t need more water. It will return to its full beauty in the fall. Enjoy!” The orange Allied moving van parked out front. Lengthy instructions for the new owners on the kitchen counter, sprinklers, alarm system, finicky Wifi remote to the living room fan, garage door openers and multiple keys on top.
A year ago in The Bee, I wrote this: “A pandemic and COVID-19 isolation has a way of crystalizing your thoughts for how you want to live out your remaining years. Reno, Nevada, its milder climate, clean air and expansive blue skies are calling. Just imagine, a summer afternoon thunderstorm. We may have to purchase a snow-blower. An adventure awaits.”
The very next set of photos reveal those same blue skies I wrote about, clouds of pink and gold, the twinkling lights of the Biggest Little City below, postcard sunrises over the Virginia Range. Almost too beautiful to be true. We’d escaped the triple digits of Fresno, the bad air, our hyper-conservative neighbor glaring at the married women (us), rather than speak. In Reno, we thought we’d actually arrived in some sort of nirvana heaven.
Then, in successive order, smoke from forest fires choke us, snow storms bury us, and bears raid the garbage cans. A new friend warns to obtain Nevada license plates ASAP, since Nevadans hate the influx of Californians. We hear, and want to forget, the derogatory nicknames of the three Reno Walmart’s. Smoke has returned this summer with a vengeance, along with the marauding bears ravenous for leftover takeout. People argue ad nauseam on the Nextdoor Neighbor app, whether Covid is a hoax, vaccines are or are not dangerous, and the rights and responsibilities of wearing or not wearing a mask.
Bottom line: All is not always rosy in Reno, or for that matter, in much of the rest of the country. I’m reminded of the old adage, “No matter where you go, there you are.”
We love many things about Reno. Its wonders, quirks and quaintness more than offset a few stark realities, as in every American city and town, and we have much more to explore and experience as we settle in. I anxiously anticipate waking to the next snowfall, blanketing the 20-year-old spruce and pines in our backyard. And, I’m mustering the courage to hike a particularly beautiful trail, packing bear spray.
Yet, on this one-year anniversary of our big adventure, I’m waxing nostalgic for Fresno: the moon rising over blue Sierras, the fresh fruits and vegetables, the honking geese flyovers every morning like clockwork, AJ’s Armenian restaurant (can they overnight the lamb chops?), Christmas Tree Lane, Respite by the River, and on and on.
Sending lots of love to you, Fresno.