O wae’s me for the faithless few,
That smiled sae sweet, yet proved untrue.
In mirth they drank, in sport they sang,
But left me lorn when sorrow rang.
Fu’ oft I thought their hearts were mine,
Through Fortune’s light and Fortune’s tyne;
Yet when the fates did change my state,
They fled as winds that scorn debate.
The gloamin’ shade, my ae true mate,
Keeps pace wi’ me through toil and fate;
It daurna leave, nor turn away,
Yet bides wi’ me for lack o’ sway.
O trusted hands that held me dear,
Where are ye now in trials sere?
Ye took my aid, my heart, my name,
Yet left me naught but grief and shame.
Aye, I hae felt this wound before,
And still, it cuts me to the core;
For friendships false, when stripped and bare,
Are ghosts that whisper naught but air.
The road stretched flat and empty before me, a strip of cracked asphalt cutting through the vast and indifferent desert. I drove the twenty-two miles to Pyramid Lake because the walls had begun to close in, and the silence was too loud.
The air smelled of dust and old ghosts, and the lake shimmered like something that did not belong to this world as I pulled onto the shoulder and climbed out. The land beyond was rough, a scatter of rock and brush rising toward the hills. I hiked up, boots kicking loose stones down the slope behind me. The wind was sharp, carrying the scent of sage and pine.
That was when I heard it. A cry stretched and yearning. It was a mountain lion calling for a mate. Wrong season, I thought. But nature has its calendar. Had it been hunting, I would not have heard it at all. The thought did little to settle my nerves.
The second cry came closer, and something in the sound uncoiled a deep and ancient dread in my gut. I turned back toward my truck, stepping carefully over loose gravel. Then, against my better judgment, I veered toward an embankment. I wanted to see it, wanted to know.
I climbed, pressing my back against a wall of stone. The next cry split the air above me. I froze. The thing was close. I could hear movement along the ridge. I held my breath.
Then he came into view.
A man—naked, his skin smeared with mud, his body laced with scratches that oozed dark against his pale flesh. He turned his head and locked eyes with me. There was nothing in them, nothing that made sense, at least.
His mouth opened, and the sound came again. The cry of a cougar in heat, torn from a throat that had forgotten language. I did not stay to hear it a second time.
I leaped down from my rocky perch and ran, sliding down the hillside in a rush of loose rock and pounding heartbeats. I did not look back. I did not want to see if he followed.
Reaching my truck, I threw myself inside, the door slamming shut like a gunshot. I turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
On the drive back, I told myself I would not think of him again. But the mind, like the desert, has a way of holding onto things.
The Fernley Vaqueros did what they do best on Friday—win softball games. The latest victim in their path? The Palo Verde Valley Yellow Jackets–who found themselves on the wrong end of a 5-1 affair.
Emma Masters had the Yellow Jackets swatting air for six innings, surrendering just one earned run on five scattered hits while collecting six strikeouts. It was a career-best performance for the ace, and she left little doubt as to why Fernley puts their trust in her with the ball in her hand.
Offensively, the Vaqueros made sure this was a group effort. Six players notched at least one hit, with Sara Moffett making the biggest splash—a triple and an RBI in her 1-for-3 outing. Lauren Smith did her part, too, scoring twice while going 2-for-3.
With that, Fernley stayed perfect at 3-0, while Palo Verde Valley saw a six-game road winning streak, stretching back to last season, come to an unceremonious halt. The Yellow Jackets fell to 3-1.
But softball waits for no one. The Vaqueros were back at it the next game, finding themselves on the wrong end of a tight 6-5 contest against Elko. Meanwhile, Palo Verde Valley dusted themselves off and blanked Needles 2-0 in their next matchup.
Friday’s clash between Fernley and Elko was one for the books—a battle between two heavyweights of the diamond. This time, however, the Vaqueros’ luck ran dry, and they suffered their first loss of the season, a narrow 6-5 defeat to the Indians.
Taylor Tollestrup made certain her name was remembered despite the loss, reaching base twice, stealing a bag, and crossing the plate once while going 2-for-2. Ximena Rodriguez kept the pressure on Elko’s defense, scoring two runs and stealing a base while reaching safely in both of her plate appearances.
If Fernley was looking for a silver lining, they found one in their on-base percentage—a season-high .538. They made sure someone was always on base at all times.
With that, Fernley dropped to 3-1, while Elko clawed their way to 1-3, snapping a five-game skid. But there was no time for either team to dwell on past results.
The Vaqueros rebounded swiftly, bouncing back with a convincing 7-2 win over Boulder City. Elko, on the other hand, ran into a buzzsaw named Lowry and fell 1-0 in their next outing.
It is one thing to get evicted, but it is a riskier endeavor to stock said dwelling with enough contraband to make the sheriff’s office gasp. It’s a lesson Miss Carolyn Cerney of Fernley learned the hard way when her housing situation took a most unfortunate turn—right into the waiting arms of the Lyon County deputies.
Yesterday afternoon, deputies, in the fine and charitable spirit of public service, arrived at Blue Wing Court to assist in an eviction, a task they no doubt unpleasant. Instead, they happened upon a spectacle of the most illicit variety. In the course of their duties, they discovered what appeared to be methamphetamine within the residence, an item that, while highly prized among certain circles, does tend to draw the unwelcome attention of law enforcement.
Demonstrating a thoroughness most admirable in their profession, the deputies expanded their search to Miss Cerney’s automobile, which proved to be something of a treasure chest—though not of the sort one would wish to present in polite company. Within the vehicle, they unearthed 146 grams of methamphetamine, 12.805 ounces of marijuana, and 6 grams of psilocybin mushrooms, along with an assortment of packaging materials and a quantity of cash sufficient to suggest that Miss Cerney was not merely a collector of such substances, but rather an enthusiastic merchant.
For her enterprising, though legally ill-advised, activities, Miss Cerney was rewarded with accommodations at the Lyon County Jail, where she now faces an impressive list of charges, including trafficking and possession of controlled substances, as well as possession of drug paraphernalia. The county has affixed her bail at the princely sum of $106,140.
Thus, what began as a simple eviction blossomed into a most instructive tale—a cautionary fable for those inclined to conduct their affairs that invites the scrutiny of the law. Miss Cerney, no doubt, now contemplates the perils of keeping house with a stockpile of substances better suited to remain undiscovered.
If ever there was a fellow who mistook the United States for a revolving door, it was one Guillermo Verano-Cruz. The enterprising gentleman got deported not once, not twice, but thrice—only to come striding back in like a man unwilling to take a hint.
But on March 4, the fourth time was not the charm.
The U.S. Marshals Service, in league with ICE and the Nevada Violent Offender Task Force, put an abrupt end to his wayfaring ways. The tale begins back in February 2020, when Verano got charged with aggravated sexual assault in Mexico.
The charge came with a warrant. One that makes a man particularly unpopular with the law.
Tired of playing hide-and-seek, Mexican officials asked the U.S. Marshals to help fetch their fugitive. By the time 2025 rolled around, Verano had not only racked up a considerable criminal record, but he also had the distinction of an active ICE deportation warrant—a sort of frequent flier program for those who cannot stay gone.
His luck ran out on Highway 50 in Carson City, where his car was spotted. A fine collection of law officers, including the sheriff’s offices from Carson City and Douglas County, descended upon him, and just like that, Verano was in custody—no fuss, no bother.
Another individual in Verano’s car was also found to be violating U.S. immigration laws and was promptly taken into ICE’s care—because, as it turns out, bad company is a dangerous thing to keep. And so, Carson City chalks up another victory for the law while Guillermo Verano-Cruz finds himself contemplating his life choices from the wrong side of a locked door.
Nevada’s own Catherine Cortez Masto has gone and hollered “fire” in a theater again, only this time, the theater’s got plenty of empty seats. The esteemed Senator took to the electrified town square of X to bemoan the alleged wholesale dismissal of General Services Administration (GSA) employees in Nevada—courtesy, she claimed, of none other than Donald Trump.
Now, the trouble with this alarming pronouncement is that it is what scholars of the English language call “a fib.” In her breathless dispatch, the Senator lamented the supposed loss of GSA workers who keep federal buildings in working order, insisting that Trump was personally dismantling security systems and throwing courthouse janitors into the street like a Dickensian villain.
In reality, the firings came at the hands of Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), an agency so committed to belt-tightening that it practically runs on a diet of saltine crackers and good intentions. Rather than troubling herself with these particulars, the Senator opted for the well-worn political strategy of flinging words into the void and hoping some of them stuck.
To hear her tell it–Nevada’s courthouses are now in peril, U.S. Marshals are wandering the desert like Moses, and Army Corps engineers are fashioning tools out of cactus spines. That’s quite the spectacle, though the truth–if ever it mattered, is that DOGE’s move had about as much to do with Trump as the moon’s orbit does with a Nevada slot machine.
But such is the way of modern politics—why let a fact stand in the way of a good scare? The Senator’s tale is as sturdy as a Nevada tumbleweed, rolling along wherever the political winds may take it.
In a grand display of misplaced confidence, Mr. Luis Sencion-Gonzalez, a gentleman of the less-than-upstanding variety, found hisself on the losing end of a most unfortunate misunderstanding.
Mr. Sencion-Gonzalez, you see, believed he was engaging in correspondence with a tender youth of fifteen summers. Alas, the cruel hand of fate—or rather–the well-prepared fingers of the Human Exploitation and Recovery Operations (H.E.R.O.) team—had arranged otherwise.
As it turns out, the young soul on the other end of his sordid ambitions was none other than a lawman in disguise, armed not with innocence but with an arrest warrant and a keen sense of justice. Through a series of conversations that, in retrospect, Mr. Sencion-Gonzalez might wish he had avoided, he managed to provide the authorities with all the evidence they required—an act of self-incrimination so thorough that one must almost admire the efficiency.
Upon his apprehension, he got acquainted with the legal consequences of his misdeeds, which included such charmingly titled offenses as Attempted Statutory Sexual Seduction by a Person Over 21, Attempted Kidnapping of a Minor, and several other charges that would make even the most hardened scoundrel wince.
One suspects that Mr. Sencion-Gonzalez will have ample time to reflect upon his errors from the comfort of his well-secured accommodations.
Ladies and gentlemen, saddle up your sense of outrage or relief—whichever suits your constitution—for the Bureau of Land Management has thrown its lasso around the wild horses of eastern Nevada and aims to make a mighty gather.
The grand equestrian escapade dubbed the “Pancake Complex Wild Horse Gather”–which sounds like a breakfast-time rodeo but is, in fact, a government affair–is set to thin the ranks of free-roaming mustangs from a sprawling 1.2-million-acre stretch of the Silver State. The stretch of untamed paradise includes such poetic locales as Jakes Wash, Monte Cristo, Pancake, and Sand Springs West—places where the horses roam, the wind whispers through the sage, and, apparently, the BLM figures there are too many hooves pounding the ground for comfort.
Bristlecone Field Manager Melanie Peterson, speaking with the authority of one who has wrangled many a bureaucratic report, assures us that this action is in the noble pursuit of maintaining “a healthy wild horse population” at the “appropriate management level” of 336-638 wild steeds. Ain’t no word yet on how the horses feel about their arithmetic-based existence.
One also suspects they didn’t get consulted either.
Siletz, Ore. — A massive search operation is underway for 2-year-old Dane Paulsen, who was reported missing Saturday afternoon from his home in Siletz, Oregon, according to the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department.
At a news conference yesterday, authorities stated that efforts are now focused along the Siletz River, as evidence suggests the toddler was near the edge before his disappearance. Despite extensive efforts covering 682 acres and 341 miles, Paulsen remains missing.
“We know this is a difficult time for Dane’s family, and we are doing everything we can to bring him home,” Lincoln County Sheriff Adam Shanks said Tuesday evening.
Dane was playing in the front yard of his family’s home around 4:25 p.m. Saturday. Authorities have deployed divers, drones, canines, and specialized search teams to scour the river and surrounding areas. Search-and-rescue teams have involved 88 personnel, 40 investigators, and 140 community volunteers.
The FBI and the Lincoln County Major Crime Team are working on the investigation. Officials had previously sought a man in a station wagon seen in the area before the toddler’s disappearance, later determining neither the driver nor the vehicle was relevant to the case. Authorities state there is evidence of an abduction or criminal activity, so the case does not meet Amber Alert criteria.
Dane is described as friendly and fearless and loves vehicles and water, though he cannot swim. He has brown hair and green eyes. He wore a gray hoodie with ears, black pants, and blue-and-white shoes at the time of his disappearance.
Officials urge anyone with information to call 541-265-0669.
A massive search operation is underway for 2-year-old Dane Paulsen, who was reported missing Saturday afternoon from his home in Siletz, Oregon, according to the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department.
At a news conference yesterday, authorities stated that efforts are now focused along the Siletz River, as evidence suggests the toddler was near the edge before his disappearance. Despite extensive efforts covering 682 acres and 341 miles, Paulsen remains missing.
“We know this is a difficult time for Dane’s family, and we are doing everything we can to bring him home,” Lincoln County Sheriff Adam Shanks said Tuesday evening.
Dane was playing in the front yard of his family’s home around 4:25 p.m. Saturday. Authorities have deployed divers, drones, canines, and specialized search teams to scour the river and surrounding areas. Search-and-rescue teams have involved 88 personnel, 40 investigators, and 140 community volunteers.
The FBI and the Lincoln County Major Crime Team are working on the investigation. Officials had previously sought a man in a station wagon seen in the area before the toddler’s disappearance, later determining neither the driver nor the vehicle was relevant to the case. Authorities state there is evidence of an abduction or criminal activity, so the case does not meet Amber Alert criteria.
Dane is described as friendly and fearless and loves vehicles and water, though he cannot swim. He has brown hair and green eyes. He wore a gray hoodie with ears, black pants, and blue-and-white shoes at the time of his disappearance.
Officials urge anyone with information to call 541-265-0669.
A massive search operation is underway for 2-year-old Dane Paulsen, who was reported missing Saturday afternoon from his home in Siletz, Oregon, according to the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department.
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