In the morning, I was ready to walk the girls up the hill to the outskirts of town when our host, Randy asked if he could join me. Mila decided to come along too, so we moved a bit more slowly than the girls are used to; but, they managed to hold out until we got out to the burro trails to do their business.
There’s a herd of feral, black donkeys that live around and in Goldfield and they use the natural spring above town for a water hole. The hills are crisscrossed with their paths, all of which lead to the canyon with the spring.
After our walk, we all met at the Dinky Diner for breakfast. The service was great but the kitchen was slow, even though they weren’t busy. Fortunately, the conversation distracted us from our hunger.
Our hunger satiated by the comfort food of the Dinky Diner, we walked over to Cousin Dan’s place to see Marie’s new motor home and Dan’s progress on the renovations to the mobile home he had purchased some years ago for about $2,500, including the lot on which it lists. One of the interesting things about Goldfield is that, having been at one time, a prosperous city and the county seat of Esmeralda County, it is now nearly a ghost town. Two fires leveled almost all of the structures built of wood, leaving only impressive stone and brick edifices standing as testimony to the wealth the mines of the area generated. Save for an eclectic group of individuals who share a passion for hoarding, the town is empty of the trappings of civilization even though it’s still the county seat. There is no gas station, no grocery store, not even the ubiquitous convenience market. The nearest necessities are in Tonopah, a half an hour’s drive north.
Some residents, like Randy, hoard old mining equipment and western memorabilia, while others hoard derelict cars, trucks, trailers, rotting motor homes and sundry recreational vehicles. Blending in with the hoarders and collectors are generic white trash slobs who just live in squalor. These eccentrics are possibly some of the friendliest, most hospitable folks on the face of the earth. They aren’t preoccupied with appearances and I would guess that many of them are far more affluent than their humble lifestyle would suggest. Some wear their politics openly, even a bit belligerently, with banners hung on fences and flags waving from the porch. My cousin had to explain to me what FJB meant. Wow! I’m shocked that adults would make such a vulgar display. Color me naive.