"Come during the week of the Fiddler's Festival," my sister said.  So like a dutiful sister, I began making plans without much thought.  I knew I was years overdue making this trip, and many others as well.

I left Sacramento Wednesday (June 21st)  after work, and drove directly to Reno (only about 140 miles or so). After spending the night there with my daughter, Tami, I woke fresh to finish travel into Weiser.  It had been many years (about 35 or so), since I had been anywhere east of Reno, while traveling by car, and I had no idea the next 200 miles or so, would consist of open plains, deserts, and sagebrush. The total number of trees were counted on the fingers of one hand. Yet, there was a quiet beauty to it all, while visions of range animals feeding on sweet sage pranced in my head.  I braked just once to allow an unconcerned coyote to cross the interstate in more safety than he allowed.

 

This kind of beauty comes from the lack of sensory overload, which normally keeps you from your mind stuff,  and similar to watching old movies for the same reason.  I can sort out all sorts of things rattling around in my head, just above the din of the old familiar celluloid frames.

 

Leaving highway 80 East at Winnemucca, I took the junction north to McDermitt (Oregon/Nevada border), via 95 North. McDermitt, is a wider spot in the road than most I'd seen for the last 90 miles or so. This little border town, consists of a small casino and cafe, directly across the road is a "gee-dunk" stand where they sell hamburgers, hotdogs, etc., and next to it, another smaller log casino and cafe. Down the road a piece, is the inevitable small town garage, that likely makes a fortune off automobile breakdowns and tows from the highway. Interestingly, even though this road is likely used a great deal by travelers from Winnemucca to Western Idaho or Eastern Oregon. It isn't listed in Rand McNally's Central & Western United States Regional map. I looked for town listings under Nevada and Oregon, thinking at least one would claim it. It's on the map (right on the border), but isn't listed in the index. Judging from the gambling, I'd suspect at least one end of the

town was on the Nevada side.   I opted for the larger of the two casino/cafe combinations and ate there, peed, threw 16 quarters into the one armed bandit (slot machine), gassed up, jumped back into the car and was off again, leaving behind a trail of dust from the casino's parking lot.

 

It wasn't long before the tedious monotony of the desert and plains began to break out into areas of green.  Rome, Oregon is beautiful to me. As you're traveling along the mesa, you begin to view scenes of a large canyon below. Civilization approaching is existing on a tapestry of green fields cradled on the canyon floor. I was somewhat thrown by a sign that stated, "Launch Site"... I was certain it was for military use, or for arrivals and departures of UFOs. It wasn't until my thoughts were able to clear sufficiently, that I reasoned it was likely for the inevitable fishermen with their boats on the waterway nearby.

 

I fell in love with the town of Fruitland, just 12 miles prior to arriving in Weiser where my sister lives. Fruitland like Weiser is suspended in a Norman Rockwell 1930s/1940s existence. Housing, old fashioned barbershops, parks with gazebos, and streets all lined with copious amounts of trees. 

 

I found it to be somewhat larger than Weiser, and had the more natural bustle coming from a larger population of natives, rather than the un-natural activity of a smaller town under siege by hundreds of thousands of "outsiders" for a Fiddler's Festival.

 

Here at home for the last number of years, I had yearned, for old Americana, reminiscent of bygone times. I was so relieved to know there are places where this familiar existence still survives. In my heart, I know it will always spell "Home."

 

The Fiddle Festival is an affectionate kick in the pants.  A good portion of the town's economy likely is produced by the dozens of garage sales, in-town locals have during Fiddle week. You name it, and you can find it.  This little town acts as host to approximately 3000 extra human beings during the festival's duration. RVs, campers, tents, etc. all hunker down at the high school parking lot, and the lawns of adjacent residents, who rent lawn space for a few bucks.

 

The music is pure heaven, and seems to resonate from every pore and crevice of the town. My sister took me to breakfast at the Senior Center. Meals there are usually $2.50 a piece, with unlimited amounts to eat. Yet, during Fiddle Festival, the price goes up to $3.33 a person, with portions actually served (outsiders, you know). It was still a very good deal, and the food was excellent. While eating my breakfast at 9:30 a.m. Friday morning, one of the fiddle bands played, and old timers (yes, even a bit older than me), were out on the floor dancing up a storm, if not a small cyclone.

 

This town is a seniors' haven. It is mostly populated by widows (many of them well into their 90s), and widowers. One thing that struck me, was the number of these old gals who enjoyed relatively good health at such a remarkable age. You can find them in groups all over town, just a giggling and hugging with each other. . . but then, why wouldn't they.  Life seems all so perfect and untouched by changes most of us have experienced in the past 50 years.

I must admit Americana is alive and well in Weiser, Idaho.  Americana may not always be there for us, but for those few idyllic days, above the harmonies of violins, guitars, harmonicas and banjos, I was able to confirm it still does wonderfully exist.

One of the last things my sister and I did together was make a trip to "Kings Variety Store."  Even the simplest things can get out of hand.  We had been viewing little miniature fountains.  You know the kind. . .they are beginning to be seen everywhere, and they would fit comfortably on a table top. 

Our misguided attentions became focused on a shelf of assorted novelties, cookie jars resembling cows that would moo if you opened them, or sharks playing "Jaws," if you  placed fingers into the vessel.  A little further down was a little toilet figurine that acted as a bank (at least I think that's what it was), if you placed coins in it, it would make a flushing sound.  It was while viewing this absolutely tasteless piece of junk, I began laughing uncontrolingly, and then unexpectedly started giving off equally uncontrolled blasts of wind from the southern most portions of my anatomy.  The more I'd laugh, the more I'd blast away... and then came the tears.  Here I was standing in the middle of the aisle to this small town 5 and dime (in the middle of Fiddle Festival) with my legs crossed, trying not to pee my pants.  The only thing I managed to do successfully (keep dry that is).  I only have one way to summarize the trip to Weiser.  It is as follows:

• Gas for 1200 mile roundtrip - $78.32
• Fiddle Festival - Got in free
• Unlimited amounts of garage sales - no charge - nothing bought
• Postcards (while you wait a very long time at the print shop) $3.75
• A few fruits and vegetables at the fruit stand - $12.41
• A few more minor food items at the local grocery store $4.91
• A day of "shopping until you drop" $142.62
• 20 outrageous minutes inside of King's 5 and Dime with Special Sister - PRICELESS

. . .AND FOR EVERYTHING ELSE, THERE IS MASTERCARD!