Tuesday night was our last night and I wanted a nice dinner. Well, and I wanted to do some gambling.

We drove to Reno and had a fantabulous meal at Louis’ Basque Corner, a stone’s throw from the Silver Legacy. This is the second time we’ve eaten there and both times have been awesome. You see, Yum’s grandfather was full-on Basque. And Yum loves her some good ol’ Basque food, particularly lamb. And this joint in Reno has the best lamb of all the Basque restaurants we’ve been to over the last two years.

After dinner we went to my favorite casino, the Silver Legacy. We played some slots and called it a night.

On the way home it started to snow really bad. They stopped us in Verdi, just after Boomtown and Cabela’s.

“Road’s closed,” the CalTrans worker told us. “It’s a whiteout. Multiple accidents. A semi jack-knifed and cars are piled up. No idea when it will be open.”

Shit. This is bad. We have to leave tomorrow. We have to get out of the Sierras. I have to work on Thursday! I can’t be stuck in Reno, waiting for this storm to pass. We turned around and started driving back to Reno, weighing our options.

We spent the next 2 hours at Boomtown playing craps and more slots. We decided to try one more time before heading back to Reno (to use Yum’s employee discount at the Marriott).

This time we were able to convince the guy at the chain control checkpoint to let us through. We promised that we weren’t trying to get over Donner Summit, we’re just going to Truckee.

There were times when we had to drive under 10 miles an hour, the blizzard was so bad, but we finally made it back to the cabin. And the next morning it was a blue-bird day, sunny and warm(er). The roads were plowed, highway 80 was open, and we drove home to Vacaville easily.

No pics this time, but I do have a short movie of some howlin’ wind.

When I got older, highway 80 was the road we took to No (Reno). “I wanna go to No, dude!” Dave or Scott would say, in a drunken stupor at 2 in the morning. Reno meant gambling and drinking and hotels and skiing and more stories to make and tell and retell.

When I moved to Chico, 80 was the highway I took when I was going home. Home, meaning *back* to Chico. Because for the short 3 years that I lived there, Chico felt more like home than any other place I’ve ever lived. And highway 80 meant that I was leaving the Bayarrhea, and that always feels good.

Highway 80 still means the road to fun. It means that Yum and I are off on another adventure. Walt’s cabin, Truckee, Lake Tahoe. Now I live in Vacaville, and I’m a stone’s throw from highway 80. It means that I’m now less than an hour’s drive up highway 80 to Scott and the boys in Roseville.

I take 80 every day to work. While I’m driving I think of all the fun times and good memories that highway 80 reminds me of. I’m thankful that I’m so lucky, that I get to live in such a great place. I arrive at work feeling peaceful and happy.

Thirty six years of driving highway 80 and I still get excited–every time. Because finally, I *live* on the road to fun.