Georgia Fisher is a journalist in Reno, Nevada.
Reno’s proximity to other great destinations is both charming and a little dumbfounding. You might liken the Biggest Little City in the World to the hub of a wagon wheel — one with spokes that lead to outdoor gems and family fun in all directions. Ready to hit the road? We’ve sorted a few options no more than about an hour’s...
Reno is home to all sorts of horses — a fact that will appeal to at least 90 percent of kids in your family. We made that number up, actually, but we’ll stand behind it. You’ll find a couple of storybook, white-fence neighborhoods here full of traditional equestrians and imported steeds, and a few more areas with working ranch animals...
As appearances go, Reno is a bit like the Wild West. We have ranchers, mustangs, casinos and laid-back vice laws, for starters, as well as desertscapes that feel both lush and Martian at once. We were born of the divorce industry, if you can imagine, and we’ll still give you a quickie wedding. The Biggest Little City in the World is also...
That connecting with locals is paramount, but hard to do if you’re staying at an upstairs-downstairs sort of fancy hotel, or rushing around with a checklist, or traveling with anyone who’s easily frightened. That my own culture isn’t terribly important; the rest of the world is getting along fine, and always has. That many people have seen and heard of only God-awful Americans, which is actually a pretty easy act for the rest of us to follow. That traveling is a form of education, and always worth the money.
When I was around 18, I wrecked my car and used the insurance money to buy a flight to Bangkok. A friend of mine back home in Texas had an apartment there — or her parents did, rather — and because she and I were both terrible kids, the whole trip was a messy soup of public drunkenness and things I still regret 15 years later. It was also the wildest, most beautiful trek of my life thus far, and my first chance to go somewhere far away.
Another teenager and I actually snuck into the Grand Palace courtyard one night (we weren’t supposed to, obviously), but the king’s guards just laughed and waved when they saw us. I guess they knew how stupid and happy we were.
Reno, Nevada. No, seriously. And I’m here to tell you about it.
I have a horse, and daydream about making him earn his keep as a real mode of transport. Barring a road-apple jaunt, though, I’d say walking is my favorite means of getting around. It’s dirt cheap, energizing if you wear the right shoes, and the only way to find hole-in-the-wall spots without help.