Five days in Reno

Reno, NV is a town of contradictions. On one hand, it boasts large hotels and casinos, an upscale mall, nationally-recognized restaurant chains and a Mercedes dealership. You have to look a little closer to see the other side.
A drive through downtown shows the large casinos and neon signs, but a closer inspection reveals a city tormented by the very industry that supports it. Bars and dives line the downtown streets. Adult bookstores and the cheapest of cheap motels fight for space, as well.
Families congregate directly around the casinos, but get away from them, and the people change. You can see the lost, the homeless, the hopeless standing clearly out from the well-dressed tourists walking right behind them. "The least of these" are everywhere in downtown Reno. I saw numerous people walking with their backpacks on. Some were undoubtedly walking cross country or hiking to Lake Tahoe. Others were walking because that was their only means of transportation.
Huge casinos like Atlantis and the Peppermill dominate their blocks, while billboards tout the "loosest" slots and biggest buffets. The city tries desperately to lure you into the surface gilding, but it can't hold up under any kind of scrutiny.
My friends said, "Reno is a hole. Downtown Reno is seedy. The worst. Sparks is almost as bad, but at least you feel safer." Sparks sits cheek by jowl to Reno--the two towns run right into each other. Sparks looks more residential, with only the Nugget and the Hilton dominating the landscape. But the bars and dives are there, too.
Inside the casinos is a false cheerfulness. The slot machines make happy, encouraging dings and beeps, but money goes into them at horrifying rates--and it doesn't come out. I sat back and watched the amount of alcohol being served at the casino where we stayed. I'd like to have what they bring in for 24 hours in alcohol sales alone. I could retire to the French Riviera.
My friends and I were there to see the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. After the show, we were talking to the keyboard player, Bob Carpenter. Bob was grousing about the lack of anything constructive to do at a casino. "I could watch the three cable channels on TV (it was an exaggeration, but not much of one), but ehh; I could go eat some more. Ehh. I could go gamble. Ehhh." Afterwards, we wished we had asked him if he wanted to go to Truckee with us the next day. He would probably have jumped at the chance to get out for a while. We'd have been tickled to have him along. He's a nice guy. All the guys in that band are good eggs.
It was a relief to get out of the Reno area, even to that tourist trap, Virginia City. That place exists for the sole purpose of separating people from their money. It always has. Nothing much has changed. It still retains the look of an old Western town, and some of the people still retain that Western friendliness, so similar to the Southern culture.
Truckee, CA is a lovely little spot. The downtown is picturesque, and the scenery around is wonderful. About five miles away is Donner Pass. There's a memorial to those people who lived through that horrific winter of 1846-47. It's a silent, peaceful place. I stood at Donner Lake and looked at the lovely homes lining the shore, considered my large breakfast I'd eaten in Truckee and thought about those people, 160 years ago, who starved on those shores, in two-room cabins and hide-covered tipis. It was sobering in the extreme.
Lake Tahoe was cold and beautiful. But the casinos still loomed on the Nevada side. It's not seedy, like downtown Reno, though. I guess the residents just accept the casinos and walk by without going in.
It was a tiring flight home, and I was glad to touch back down in Sweet Home Alabama, where our problems are numerous, but at least don't include casinos.