For the concerned few among you, I have not starved. I raided a grocery store and now have a box of Cheerios, three cans of soup, a can of tuna, two cans of beans, and a box of macaroni and cheese cluttering up my cabinets. But, that should get me through a few days of fun in the sun.
It’s always so good to see a government agency looking out for the people who have difficulty looking out for themselves. Plus, signs like this keep the wandering masses confined to the places designated for their wandering. There weren’t all that many members of the masses to confine, and it was nice to see that they stayed pretty much where they should. There wasn’t any wandering off the beaten path in Rhyolite.
What really surprised me was how quickly the town grew, and then how quickly it disappeared. Gold was discovered in the Bullfrog Hills in 1904, and by 1907 Rhyolite had sprung up and was the largest town in Southern Nevada. Then the town quickly fell on hard times. All three banks closed in 1910, and the mine shut down in 1911. The newspaper shut down in 1912. The last train pulled out of the station in 1914. The power company turned off the power to the town in 1916, and the 1920 census listed the population as 14. By 1922 that number was down to one. The last resident of the town died in 1924 at the age of 92.
Rhyolite is now a ghost town. I did not see any ghosts, though. I did look, too. I even visited the old train station, and the cemetery. I was going to raise the roof on a roof that needed to be raised,
but that seemed like an awful waste. Especially when my talents could be better put to use elsewhere.
The one item that really impressed me was the Last Supper by Albert Szukalski:
I stumbled upon a few town folk waiting for the bus. I tried to strike up a conversation, but they all seemed pretty closed mouth:
They’re probably just all wore out from the questions they answer about the couch no one was sitting on:
But, I did happen upon a steal of a deal. There was a duplex for sale, and with just a few new appliances and some paint I’m pretty sure we can keep this thing rented year-round:
I talked to the real estate agent and she was telling me about all the good things they have planned for the area. Power has been restored to the parts of the town, and there is a septic system (I think we should get that inspected, though). The water situation seems a little sketchy, but I’m working on that.
I really like their long term goals for the area. They envision something along the lines of Virginia City. That would be fantastic. If we can get in on the ground floor now I think we’ll be sitting in the catbird seat when everything falls into place. I just need a few investors to go in with me. There wouldn’t be much work to do. I got the agent to throw in a couple of vehicles to sweeten the deal.
I think I’m going to need some help with this old beater:
But, in no time at all we can get this truck up and running. It will come in handy as we fix up the restaurant.
That’s right. An honest to goodness restaurant. It’s a bit small, but I think we can make do:
Until we can get this bad boy fixed up. I envision a spaghetti house. What do you think?
I believe that if we use the glass bottle house as our main attraction, we can bring the people in by the busloads.
Get them into town just before lunch, or real close to dinner, and offer them a deal. We can let our chef figure that out. We’ll keep him, or her, close to work in their newly remodeled home:
Let me tell you. This is the deal of deals. We can’t let this opportunity get away from us. Who’s in this with me? We’ve got to act fast. Time is of the essence here. This deal is so good that it’s not going to be there long.
While you think it over take a look at some of the local attractions that will bring people to our little piece of heaven.
Good night, Mrs. Jackson, wherever you are.