Friday on the Comstock

Midnight at the Oasis, by Maria Muldaur, is playing on the radio as I glide around the final curve before Virginia City. There is something at that moment that gives me butterflies with the usual palpitations I get every time I see the town.

Up and over the hill and down, in the southbound lane of C Street, I drive to the newspaper office tucked inside the little clothing store. Here, I do my Friday thang, delivering papers and visiting with some of my favorite people.

The vehicle loaded with two boxes of papers, I take a third one to the post office next door, remembering to look before I cross the driveway between the two buildings. A Jeep bounced me into the street one early morning as I stepped onto the cement leading to the parking lot behind the post office.

Papers dropped for mailing done, I return to my vehicle and collect more for the paper box sitting kitty-corner from the post office’s front doors. Once I get the box loaded, I begin my race with time.

Heading south, I drop papers here and there, up the hill to B Street, Howard, and down Union to C Street again. Here, I park because there are several places to go, and it is here that I will knowingly fall behind, owing to the many people to stop and talk with.

It is the best part of the job.

Then it’s back to the vehicle and down the street, making three more stops before I blow out of town through Gold Hill and Silver City, where I drop a bundle of papers before hitting Dayton. Though the box in front of the post office in Silver City is in Lyon County, they get the same paper as Virginia City, which is in Storey County.

Again, I will lose time waiting for traffic to clear on S.R 341 and U.S. 50 at an unprotected left turn. The traffic is light today because of the pending holiday weekend, so getting across is easy this morning.

Usually, I have ten places on my route to deliver to in the valley, but today, for the third week in a row, it is nine as I can’t get the paper box near the Smith’s grocery store to open. I need to find someone who knows how to repair the damned things.

Out towards Stagecoack, then back to Riverboat, I need to make a pit stop at Maverick’s to fuel up, as gas is cheaper in Lyon County than Washoe County by nearly fifty cents. They also have clean restrooms that I will take advantage of right now.

Then comes my second favorite part of my day, especially with nice weather upon us, the drive up Six Mile Canyon and back into Virginia City, where I have five more stops to make before I can call it quits. There is something akin to spiritual as I pass the tree budding, the flowers waving in the breeze that fills the canyon, and the multitude of historic, squared-off rock foundations of homes and factories beyond ruined.

North on C Street, back around to D Street, a quick jog to E Street, back across Mill Street, what Six Mile Canyon becomes once back inside the city limits. I zip around from St. Mary’s in the Mountain, jogging once again one street down the hill to F Street and by the Virginia and Truckee Railroad Depot, and passed the wooden mining shack where we used to print the newspapers.

F Street ends at State Route 341, so making a righthand turn, I pass by the historic Fourth Ward School, returning to C Street and going north for the second to last stop. Finally, I go left on Union since Taylor remains blocked, turn right on B Street, and make my last delivery of the day.

It is early afternoon, and the rest of the day is mine, and I can do with it as I will. I need more conversating, which is in endless supply in Virginia City.

And I know just where to go for that. I left Virginia City for home around 6 p.m. tonight, my head filled with good words and great stories.