I Hate to Abuse an Old Cliché

Today is not only the darkest day of the year, but the darkest day in over a century. Holiday festivities or not, it’s difficult to think joyously about such things– particularly if like me you have S.A.D., and find yourself unduly tired and somehow in need of an absurd amount of sleep.

The way I managed this while I was writing my book was to attach myself to the notion that the days would get longer from here on out, and that that would inevitably lead to glorious binges on sunlight as I navigated about my country. And while it has been difficult to think in this way since I completed my travels, it is nonetheless what is left to me as the darkness prevails.

In keeping with this, I offer a few photographs from interior Nevada, where I spent the longest day of all my days upon the road. Not in terms of sunshine, I should note. Rather, I spent nearly 24 hours awake, rising before dawn across the border in California and– for reasons I spoke of in the book– concluding it deep into the following night in Las Vegas. During this time I visited Lake Tahoe, traveled the Loneliest Road in America, came across abandoned towns and Pony Express outposts, and met UFO-hunters on the Extraterrestrial Highway.


It’s remarkable how much a person can do during a single day. And, I suppose, remarkable too how little they can. I will, as such, try to fight on. Lighter days are surely in all our futures.

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