Columnists
Isn’t it too bad that we are clever enough to create a weapon so powerful as to deter our enemies, then we have to start knocking off our enemies before they replicate that same weapon, and knock us off… Where does it all end? May I humbly suggest Drawing
Columnists
I escaped a head-on collision by the narrowest of margins four years ago. Back then, Hwy 50 past Silver Springs toward Fallon was a worn strip of asphalt—one lane each direction, no margin for error. Near misses were common. Accidents were no surprise. It is much improved now.
Columnists
It was late Monday morning on USA Parkway when three Stockton citizens set out in search of scenery and found the law instead. The sun was up, and the road was open, but the car, it turns out, was not theirs. Storey County deputies, who have developed a suspicious nature
Columnists
It might be safe to say that Moses, the prophet, was the first reporter of record. When Moses received the Ten Commandments, well, this was some heavy news to deliver to an unsuspecting public. I can only imagine the reaction those Commandments might have had in France…“No adultery? Hey,
Columnists
When my dad, Mark King, was young, he didn’t believe much in staying put. He worked at dude ranches in Wyoming, herded cattle, and rode in rodeos from the Texas/Mexico border all the way up to Canada. He loved the image and the lifestyle of the “Old West.
Columnists
Reno, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that wild horses and motorists should no longer play a game of “Guess Who Gets Hurt First” along the Virginia Foothills. To this noble end, the city has forked over a cool $702,000 to a company called Soli-Tech, which sounds like
Columnists
Most friends who have visited Twain Haven (my home) over the past nine years have met Huckleberry, my pet Steller Jay who stops by every afternoon at Happy Hour for a Beer Nut. We have a special relationship, a bond we only wish we could pass along to our more
Columnists
It was a Friday evening over a year ago in Virginia City, the only place I know where a person can drink history by the glass and still owe for it later. I was occupying my customary post at the Tahoe House, engaged in the serious civic duty of reducing
Columnists
On his thirteenth birthday, my dad, Robert “Mark” King, gave himself a present: a one-way ticket west. He walked into a Greyhound station in New Jersey with $23 in his pocket and more determination than common sense. He asked the ticket agent how far $12 would take him. He
Columnists
When Ski Incline expanded to 8500 feet with a new quad to become Diamond Peak back in 1987, Lee Weber Koch invited me to be the first civilian to ride up with her and mountain manager Jim Bradshaw, and ski down. What an honor… School was out that day, and
Columnists
Long before Dayton had paved roads, it had Bernardo Ricci — an Italian immigrant with calloused hands, big dreams, and (according to rumor) a talent for making wine that could knock the dust off a prospector. Born in 1877, Bernardo left Italy to chase opportunity in the American West. By the
Columnists
Traveling from South Australia to Reno usually takes about a day—longer if connections fail. When I was living “down under” and my dad, Mark King, and my step-mom Luanne were here in northern Nevada, that long journey became an annual ritual. Every 12 to 18 months, I boarded