Coming Full Circle in Nevada’s Outback
Vicky Svea Jones
Note from the Outdoor Neophyte: Vicky Svea Jones reigns supreme at the International Hotel and Café in Austin, Nevada that marks the geographic center of the state. As manager she oversees every detail of the operation: hiring and scheduling staff, purchasing supplies (the closest grocery store is 112 miles, the nearest Costco is 177 miles), and cooking up the best Swedish pancakes with strawberries this side of Stockholm. Day in and day out, she caters to hungry locals and tourist who are lucky enough to route their travels along Highway 50, the Loneliest Road in America. Like the International Hotel building, Vicky is also a transplant.
Originally built between 1859-60 in Virginia City, Nevada, the hotel was dismantled in 1863, loaded onto carts pulled by huge teams of mules and hauled 180 miles over mountain ranges and through valleys to its present site where it was reassembled and began an exciting history boasting a fancy ballroom on the second floor and an elegant dining room on the first floor.
Austin, a wide place in narrow Pony Canyon, sprang into existence during the Civil War in 1862 when a horse and its rider stumbled upon a piece of rock revealing rich silver ore. Within one year there were nearly 5,000 citizens in the new town and soon the population swelled to 10,000. When Nevada became a State in 1863, the International Hotel was the first operation in the State to receive a business license. Austin also built the first Catholic Church and the first bank in the State. Today the head count ranges between 200-300 people, all of whom proudly call Austin home. Abandoned silver miles have given way to vast cattle and sheep ranches.
Vicky emigrated from Sweden, a country rich in history and culture, which traces its roots back to 10,000 B.C., the date of its first known human dwelling place. Swedish Vikings both plundered and set up trade routes between 800-1050 developing links as far away as present day Russia and establishing relations with the Byzantine Empire and the Arab dominions. From the later part of the 13th century the crown head of Sweden became strong enough to impose laws for the entire kingdom running to its present day monarch, Carl XVI Gustaf.
Thirty-eight years ago Vicky sailed from Sweden with its heritage and long history into a love affair with wild Nevada’s Outback. We stand in the kitchen of the International Hotel as she greases and flours two cake pans, talking about the years that have passed, her adventures, and her plans for the future. Caught up in the memories she almost forgets to add extra flour to the cake batter, pursing her lips she utters, “Oh! high altitude, and brushes past me to the adjacent storeroom fetching a half-cup flour. “6,600 feet you know, that’s the altitude of Austin. You’ve got to use extra flour in your cakes and breads.”
Here’s Vicky’s story...
I was 20 years old when I sailed into New York harbor past the Statue of Liberty like so many other immigrants. By pre-arrangement, family friends from Sweden were to be at the dock to meet me, but, we didn’t recognize each other, so I ended up taking a taxi to the address I had on a letter and waited for them to return home from the pier. After resting a few days, the woman fixed a beautiful basket of fresh fruit for my trip West and the couple dropped me at the Greyhound Bus Station. When I asked for a one-way ticket to Tonopah, the gruff speaking New York ticket seller snapped back two questions: “How do you spell that?…and where the hell is it?” His questions and tone didn’t do much to bolster my confidence.
The bus trip lasted 72 hours. Several times a day, the bus would pull into the parking lot of a Howard Johnson. All the passengers would file into the restaurant and be handed the identical menu all the way across the entire United States. After awhile, as I dozed on the bus, I started having food nightmares centered on the same sliced turkey and pasty looking gravy. The basket of fresh fruit saved my life!
All I knew about Nevada, the place the Greyhound rolled toward, was that it offered gambling, quick divorces and marriages and had huge deserts. The farther away from New York we drove, the more the landscape changed. We crossed the Appalachian Mountains, drove across the Great Plains and crossed the Rocky Mountains. By the time we reached the west the landscape was truly looking desolate and population had dropped off to almost zero. Every once in a while the bus would slow down, pull off the road and stop at a nothing dirt road. One of the passengers would get up, walk to the front of the bus and get off. I kept straining my eyes to see a destination on the horizon where the person might be going, but there was generally just vast, open space.
After three days, the bus pulled into the terminal in Reno; it was evening and I waited for my final bus ride into Tonopah where my husband was waiting for me. It was 3:00 A.M. when we pulled along side the Mizpah Hotel in Tonopah, one of the grand old hotels from the silver boom days.
What I was able to see at that time of night was guys in boots and big cowboy hats honky-tonking around the smoke filled bar. The next morning when I woke and looked out the window all I could see were endless mine tailings –heaps of sand colored earth displaced in the mining process. It was a bleak sight and my first and only thought was, “Where have I ended up?” My husband comforted me saying, “Wait until you see Austin!”
I worked at the Mizpah for a couple months and then my husband borrowed a car and drove us 117 miles into Austin. It was the dead of winter and the summit, which is 7,500 feet, was in whiteout blizzard conditions. As we crested the summit and began the treacherous descent into Austin, I prayed to God telling him that if He would let us arrive safely, I would never leave again. We did arrive safely, but I have to admit that I’ve broken my vow by driving over the summit many times in the 38 years I’ve lived here.
Compared to Tonopah, Austin was tiny and sleepy, but it does sit on the western flank of the magnificent Toiyabe Mountain Range, which is 50 miles long. The valley at the bottom on Austin is 20 miles across and the canyons provide endless beauty and activities. In the sense of natural outdoor beauty, my husband’s statement, “Wait until you see Austin!” was accurate. Every since I was a child, I loved to fish. Along the Reese River in the Austin Valley fly-fishermen are known to have caught and released as many as 168 fish in one day! Fishing is still my most favorite outdoor activity; the other is riding across the vast landscape on the back of my husband’s Harley.
I should tell you my best fish story; it was the biggest fish I ever caught out on the ocean. They had a contest on the fishing boat and one guy though sure that he had the biggest fish; I just kept quiet all day long. At the end of the day, when the skipper weighed the fish, mine tilted the scale at 33 pounds and beat the other guy. He was obviously having a really hard time with my winning. I think he could have accepted that a Swede out fished him, but not that he had been beaten by a Swedish woman from the desert!
I have loved being in this small community within such an enormous landscape. A strange thing happens in a place like this: a person can go into a big city where there are many people, yet, remain very isolated. In this small town, a person instantly becomes part of everything. I know many more people in Austin than I ever would have known if I lived in Reno or Las Vegas. Out of the 38 years, the past 14 years have definitely been the best years of my life. All things being equal, I would do it all again.
My daughter, Susan, went to school in Austin; the kids would ride horses all over the mountains and have big adventures. My granddaughter, Alicia, graduated from Austin High School yesterday- Valedictorian of her class. Thirteen years ago, she and a boy named Danny started kindergarten together. A total of 5 graduated in the Class Of 2001. Emotions were so high yesterday sitting there with my daughter on one side of me and my husband on the other… listening to Alicia speak on the stage and seeing her receive scholarships. There were many, many tears of joy!
I have always told my daughter and the grandchildren, “ Trust your intuition.” For myself, trusting the decision to come to Nevada put me on the right course. This fall, Alicia plans to major in design at the University of Nevada in Reno and work in Beverly Hills someday as an interior decorator. It is her turn to follow her own intuition. I hope that things turn out as well for her as they did for me. Alicia always says, “I have learned that if you treat each day as your best day, your goals have a better chance of succeeding.” That seems to be a good starting place.
Several years ago I promised Alicia that, when she graduated from High School, I would take her back to Sweden for a month long visit. She has never traveled farther than 500 miles from Austin in any one direction. Tomorrow morning we drive into Carson City and fly out of Reno the next day. My granddaughter going to Sweden is somehow completing the circle of experience, which I began 38 years ago. I came from a very sophisticated country to the Nevada outback and found friends, family and a wonderful sense of place. Alicia, for her part will be experiencing the opposite side of the journey, coming from this isolated place, which many people call a ghost town, to visit one of the capitals of the world. Alicia has never been on a plane, train or a boat. Bridges scare her; but she is so excited! We’ll be taking the XL2000, a high-speed train from Copenhagen to Sweden and a boat trip as well.
The circle, to and from the Nevada Outback, will be complete and she’s only 2 years younger than I was when I landed in New York City.
We should have some very interesting talks as we travel this next month!