After a couple more relaxing days (though hunting season began, so we heard some gunfire, and several more folks came in over the weekend), we headed out to what will be our 50th state (the horses' 48th), as we close in on our final goal. After speaking with several of the locals, we abandoned our original route because we heard the road was extremely rough on trailers, with lots of bouncing dips which would slow us down considerably, so we headed back toward Alturas (a much easier drive than going the easterly Cedarville way, according to Hubby) where we picked up fuel and breakfast and headed south on 395. Arrived in Fernley,where I had found some alfalfa/grass mix for sale, we bought 11 bales, then headed to Walmart to do our shopping, then ran out of time to get propane (figured we could get it later when we pick up parts from the RV store in Carson City later in the week), and headed straight for Ft. Churchill State Park. We went to the dump first, picking up water in the RV and the horse trailer, enough to hold us over until tomorrow, then proceeded to the Scout Camp. Turns out to be a lovely spot, a stretch of cottonwood trees along where the river is supposed to be (it dried up a few months ago, apparently), a welcome site after so many miles of barren desert. We arrived just before dusk, and managed to get the horses settled in to two very nice corrals side by side, and, fortunately, Hubby was even able to get a satellite signal before full darkness fell. Had ourselves a cocktail before settling down to a movie and a quiet evening, though we're only about a mile from the main road, so it's not quite as quiet as the last place, but not bad. Just glad to be here after a long day!
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