In April I made a full-price offer on a bank-owned condominium in Incline Village, Nevada. So did someone else. I tacked on a few grand and resubmitted the offer, and it was eventually accepted, but only after a lot of haggling over terms.
For the record, I would not recommend buying a bank-owned home in another state.
In early June we closed escrow and I achieved a long-time goal of owning a place in Incline, a place I have been visiting regularly for 25 years.
We've been up a few times to visit and transport furniture, and it's been pretty fun.
During the first visit I was able to get in a couple rides, but I had to stay low due to the snow.
We went up again over the Fourth of July and again I got a few more rides in. I was able to ride at higher elevation, but there was still a lot of snow on top. One day I climbed to the top of Mount Rose on Highway 431. It's about 2700 feet from lake level.
The trail I wanted to ride, the Rim Trail, was somewhere under all this snow.
Still, there was plenty of prime singletrack down a little lower.
On my last ride I was bombing down this steep chute on a flume trail (not THE Flume Trail) and heard metal clanging.
I thought, What the hell is that? I stopped but I couldn't find anything wrong with my bike. I looked up the trail and found a bunch of these:
Nails from the old flume. A couple of them were very primitive and square, and they appeared to be quite old.
A couple doors down there are a number of friendly local kids. In this day and age of video games and virtual reality, it warmed my heart to see a wiffle ball game break out.
To finish up, see all those bikes? They're just over my back fence. Yes, a bike shop a stone's throw away. Nice.
Later.
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