A town named after Kit Carson should have a story.

 

A couple Steve Dancy Tales take place in Carson City. I like the town. I like it today and I like historic Carson City. Since statehood, it has always been the capital of Nevada which made it a political town with pretensions of civility. Virginia City, however, was twenty miles away and it rightly deserves its reputation as one of the rowdiest mining towns of the Old West. Until the mines played out in the 1880s, the Comstock Lode made Virginia City and Carson City very wealthy.

Carson City acted as a freight center and supply depot for the mines. Extensive flumes carried pine logs down the eastern slope of the Sierras to Carson City. Sawmills to finish these raw logs were a major city industry and the finished lumber shored up mine tunnels and provided boards for building above ground. The short run Virginia & Truckee Railroad transported timber, people, and foodstuffs from Carson City to Virginia City. At its peak, thirty-six trains a day passed between the two cities. The pair of towns were bustling, with the best housing, food, liquor, and entertainment that money could buy.

Here’s a description of Carson City excepted from The Shopkeeper. Steve Dancy and Jeff Sharp are just riding into town.

Carson City had been settled as a trading post less than thirty years earlier, so I should not have expected the sophistication of Denver or St. Louis. I had visited both cities, and neither was the primitive hinterland a New Yorker might expect. Carson City, on the other hand, lived up to the image of a new-made town populated by people who had nothing but wanted everything.

After we passed the railroad station and approached the statehouse, the town began to look a bit more established. The main thoroughfare was crowded with wagons, horses, and people bustling about with purpose. Although the commercial district had the same disheveled look as most of the other towns in the West, the residences along the side avenues set Carson City apart. Radiating off the central artery were numerous tree-lined lanes with houses substantial enough to indicate that people intended to stay awhile. In fact, some of these homes were large and well designed.

I glanced up another side lane with nice homes set back from the street. “Looks like there’s some money in Carson City. Settled money.”

“For a mine to prosper, you need two things: lumber to shore up the shafts an’ a way to transport your bullion to market. Trees an’ trains. Carson City has a lock on both. Sometimes I think we miners just toil for a bunch of shysters in starched collars.”

“Which reminds me, I want to buy some clothes while we’re here.”

Sharp pointed ahead. “That’s the new state capitol building. Wherever ya find politicians, ya’ll find haberdasheries.”

The stately capitol building looked sturdy and permanent, as befitted the only pretense to law and order in a society struggling against anarchy. The structure sat in the center of a city block, surrounded by a pleasant park with footpaths, trees, and neatly groomed grass. A white cupola with a silver roof capped the two-story sandstone building, giving it a Federal-style appearance that I had seldom seen west of the Continental Divide.

“Looks impressive.”

“Looks deceive.” Sharp spit. “A more corrupt state government you will not find.”

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

Carson City and the Landmark St. Charles Hotel

We started the day with a visit to Genoa, which is situated just below the Sierras at the edge of the Carson Valley. (Everything in this part of Nevada is named after Kit Carson: cities, streets, valleys, counties, rivers, mountain passes, recreation areas, pets, and children.) This is a historic town where 49ers took a breather before struggling over the mountains to the gold clogged streams of California. Genoa was also a significant stop for the Pony Express. Today it hosts a great antique gun store with experts who freely share their knowledge of 19^th century weapons.

TheShopkeeper was the first of the Steve Dancy series and it took place in Nevada. The Carson City St. Charles Hotel was a prominent setting for much of the story. Seven years ago, the St. Charles was a dilapidated flophouse. On this visit, I was pleased to see a restored exterior with thriving businesses on the ground floor. The manager was hospitable enough to give us a tour of the upper floors where the rooms are still in the process of restoration. One room is preserved behind glass in 19^th century condition. The room is a few inches wider than the single mattress on the floor and personal belongings are strewn at the bottom of the bed. I took liberties in my book, and housed Steve Dancy in a suite on the third floor. The St. Charles is across the street from the capitol and legislative building and provides elected officials with a fitting reminder of Nevada history.

After the St. Charles, we visited the Capitol, Nevada State Museum, shopped, and ate lunch at an oddly themed Polynesian restaurant. Carson City has a Basque heritage, so we had an excellent dinner at a friendly Basque restaurant. Tomorrow, everyone seems to be going off in different directions, so we’ll share stories at dinner.

Beatty, Nevada

We spent the first night of our road trip in Beatty, Nevada, the Gateway to Death Valley. Pretty area—in a desolate kind of way. When we asked for a AAA discount at our motel, the clerk told us other motels in town offered discounts, but not them because they were fancy. Fancy seemed hyperbole. Our room was comfortable, but basic. The room appeared to be designed by a left hander seeking revenge. The water faucets were reserved and the door handles worked in the opposite direction. It was fun sorting things out.

When we checked in, we also asked for a recommendation on a place to eat. She told us the finest restaurant in town was a Denny’s in the casino. When we asked for something with more local color, she suggested a bar that was famous for chili. We told her that was more our style, so she directed us to the second bar after making a turn at the first right. (There was no second right.) She said don’t go into the first bar, and then emphasized that we should avoid that particular establishment. She offered no explanation and we sought none, but we didn't wander over to the first bar after dinner for a nightcap. 

The second bar was great. The people were friendly and the ambiance was a mix of cowboy and Sons of Anarchy. Chili was indeed on the menu. You could have chili in a bowl, chili on a hot dog, chili on a hamburger, or chili on Fritos. That was it. Except for beer and wine. They had a good selection of beer and two varieties of wine; red and white. Thank goodness, the chili was excellent. When we complimented our server, she told us the awards on the wall were a smidgen of the prizes won by her grandmother’s chili. She claimed there was not enough wall space in Beatty to display all the awards.  Then she said something surprising: her grandmother had not yet trusted her with the recipe … or anyone else for that matter. I hope her grandmother remains healthy because she makes a hell of a good chili. We returned directly to our fancy motel after helping to roll up the sidewalks at nine o’clock.

Tomorrow we leave for Garnerville, just a hop, skip, and a jump from the once rowdy Virginia City. More fun in the offing just over the horizon.

Road Trip!

We're about to drive to Garnerville, Nevada with friends. We'll stay with other friends who happen to be relatives. It looks like we might luck into some snow, so a day or two of skiing is not out of the question.









Beyond traveling and visiting with good people, I'll be starting the research for the next Steve Dancy Tale. I won't give away the plot, but a good portion of the story will take place in Carson City and Virginia City. Along with Steve, Joseph, and Jeff, there will a few characters from The Shopkeeper intent on making life difficult for Mr. Dancy and friends. Since The Return, A Steve Dancy Tale is not yet back from the editor, I'm still on recess and plan on having fun. This is a good life.