Reno in May. It’s a longstanding tradition with us, going all the way back to when we spent our honeymoon here and at nearby Lake Tahoe. Then after that, during our days of nationally touring theatre, Reno became our base of operations; we had our storage unit here, and every May we’d put together a new show here, setting up shop in hotel/ motel rooms at first, and then in the garage of Kimberly’s parents after they retired here. It was always a frantic, stressful month, sometimes fraught with marital squabbles. What a different vibe we have this time, when we return to the Biggest Little City in the World during our American vacation from international volunteering; we actually have a chance to stop and smell the sagebrush. And listen to the river gurgling and the slot machines chinging.

One of the more interesting things we do this time is something we theoretically could have done just about anywhere: watching the Eurovision song contest for the first time ever. But the way we do it is especially memorable: at a watch party organized as an annual event by some friends of our niece Jenny’s. (Kimberly wears her nifty blue overalls that she fashioned a few years ago for one of our shows.) About 20 people are in attendance at the potluck event to screen the competition on a jumbo TV, as we fill out our own scorecards to predict the winner. And just for fun, we also have Bingo cards with such items as feathers, sequins, the word “unity” and camera pans to the audience.

Eurovision has run every year since 1956, and has helped launch the careers of many artists who won or placed highly including ABBA, Olivia Newton-John, Celine Dion, Julio Iglesias, Englebert Humperdinck, Lulu, and Flo Rida. It’s normally held in the country that produced the previous year’s winner, so this time it’s in Basel, Switzerland. We’re wowed by the caliber of artistry among the 26 contestants — the songs, the performers, and the production values are all superb, incorporating choreography, costumes, sets, and sometimes fire, water, and even a CGI dragon.

We all give very high marks to a singer from Austria billed as JJ, performing his song “Wasted Love” in a near-operatic falsetto. Kimberly ranks him first, and Dennis ranks him second; he ends up being the grand prize winner. The judges in our party get judged themselves, and Kimberly wins a small trophy for her excellent selections. Jenny, on the other hand, wins a small garbage can for her not so excellent calls.

But hey, Jenny has plenty of other talents. She’s a gifted artist, and the city of Reno has engaged her to put her original artwork on some of its signal boxes. There are about 100 such boxes located throughout the city, with dozens of painters represented on them, presenting much more esthetically pleasing street corners than would battleship gray. Naturally, we have to go scout out Jenny’s latest signal box masterpiece whenever we’re in town, and admire her whimsical depictions of nature in vibrant colors.

While we’re in town we need to do some minor repairs on some of our travel gear so we’ll be all set to head back overseas soon. And we stumble upon Windy Moon Quilts, an absolute gold mine of a fabric/ craft store that we would have loved to know about back in the days when we were doing theatre. Kimberly and her sewing machine would have broken a gear with excitement over the endless rows of fabrics and other goodies. It’s difficult to spot on the street, because the entrance is in the rear. But it’s been right here on Fourth Street, near downtown, since 1979. How on earth did we not learn about it until now?

Also on this trip, we get a pedicure, along with Kimberly’s parents, at a Vietnamese nail salon. Vietnamese nail salons are such a big thing in America that many people might assume they’re also a big thing in Vietnam. Not especially so (though certainly most nail salons there are also operated, amazingly enough, by Vietnamese individuals). Refugees in Sacramento from the Vietnam conflict learned the trade in 1975, thanks to actress Tippi Hedren (of Hitchcock’s The Birds fame), who arranged to have them trained and placed in jobs — and it just mushroomed from there.

We can’t help wondering if these manicurists were doctors or lawyers back at home, and are unable to secure higher paying jobs because of limited English. (The Uber driver who picked us up from the airport when we arrived — and charged us 31 dollars for a trip of about two miles, which was about 20 times what we would have paid in Cambodia or India, but it wasn’t his fault– was an amiable and knowledgeable Russian fellow named Sergei who had been a professor in his homeland.) We feel bad for these folks who come here to find an increasingly hostile environment for immigrants, with a recent explosion of white nationalism, xenophobia, and general bigotry; and an increasingly labyrinthine process for legal residence, and increasingly draconian penalties for those failing (or suspected of failing) to comply in an almost impossibly brief time frame. It ain’t your great-grandma’s Ellis Island system anymore.

Thanks to Kimberly’s parents, we are able to spend a couple of nights at the Peppermill resort hotel. Can’t remember the last time we’ve done something like that, and it’s certainly a contrast to the spartan lodgings we’ve become accustomed to on our global travels (accommodations have included a tree house in Guatemala, an abandoned classroom in Cambodia, and what appeared to be a former cowshed in India). Swimming pool, gym, spa — we could almost get used to this. Except we’d miss the wild monkeys and elephants.

During our stay at the Peppermill, Dennis pays the obligatory visit to the casino downstairs, and bags a few bucks wagering on horse races, which was something he used to enjoy doing in person — or in horse — in a previous life. When he collects his booty, the cashier is a man with no hands, and it’s impressive to see how deftly he handles transactions, including manipulating coins. Observing how well someone with such a handicap functions is always a potent reminder that yes, we can overcome the setbacks we’re dealt.

One of our favorite places to take a short hike in Reno is on University Ridge, a hill overlooking… well, the university. (University of Nevada main campus.) It also has a commanding view of the entire city, including the airport, and of the Sierras, always capped with snow. And during our visit, the park at the top of the hill is the site of a Murder Mystery dinner that we participate in, and for which we dress up in somewhat appropriate garb that somewhat approximates appropriate costumes. The setting is a base camp near an archaeological dig, so the large boulders in the park are somewhat suitable. And since the dig is supposed to be in the Middle East, our cuisine is Middle Eastern fare, cooked over a campfire. It’s the first such event we’ve attended in some time, and it’s quite fun. No, the butler didn’t do it.

Another serendipity is the timing of the worldwide No Kings day rally against the kakistocracy, with an event taking place here in town. Though unable to attend, we manage to drive by and get a look. We’re pleased by the number of people, and equally impressed to see that, unlike the rally in Providence we attended recently, the younger generation is fairly well represented.

We also manage to work in a couple of excursions, with relatives, to the shores of Lake Tahoe and Donner Lake. Lake Tahoe is the largest alpine lake in the country. It’s soooooo big. (How big is it?) Well, it’s so big that its surface is noticeably curved because the earth, contrary to some reports, is round. The lake is home to swimming, boating, skiing, and lots of photography. And a few legends of ghosts and supernatural beings like Tahoe Tessie, the local equivalent of the Loch Ness Monster. The shores are home to resorts, camping and casinos.

Lake Tahoe

Finally, no trip to Reno would be complete without spending some time down by the Truckee River. Lots of cities have rivers running through them, but the Truckee puts most of them to shame — it’s not so wide, and not even so deep in most places, but it’s rich in recreational opportunities, and scenic splendor. Which is to say, it’s dang gorgeous. Stretching 121 miles from Lake Tahoe in California (the grand lake’s only outlet) to Pyramid Lake in Nevada, it roars through a number of rapids and turns, and is a haven for fishers, rafters. and others seeking outdoor excitement.

One of these days we’d love to go whitewatering in it at some not too dangerous section; heck, we’d settle for taking a bike ride alongside it. One of these days. For now, we’re content to just take a stroll and a wade, in a park where lifejackets are provided free on a rack on the banks, for those who might be tempted to stray out a bit far. Well, Kimberly also has to take her skateboard and slackline out of storage, both of which she’s sorely missed, and give them a workout.

Donner Lake

You can’t step in the same river twice, and you can’t step in the same city twice. We’ve seen a lot of changes in Reno over the decades, and they’re not all changes we would have approved. More people, more traffic, more pollution. And some of the quaint landmarks of the old days are gone: the Comstock with its prospecting theme, Fitzgerald’s with its Irish theme (complete with an exhibit of an actual stone from Blarney Castle), the Riverboat with its riverboat theme. And there was the Mapes Hotel, the postcardish 1947 art deco structure such as they just don’t make anymore, now gone forever. As are the days of cheap buffets at Circus Circus before it was subsumed by the Silver Legacy.

But hey, we still have the same Truckee River, as majestic as ever. There’s still a mind-blowing fabric store. People are having Eurovision watch parties, and speaking out against government malevolence and ineptitude. And utilitarian signal boxes are being turned into canvases for some imaginative artwork. Things definitely could be worse.

Events occurred: 5/19-6/15/2025