Extreme Social Distancing
By Deon Reynolds
For 13 years Trish and I lived in an 1880 bank building in Eureka, Nevada where we operated an art gallery and photographic services business. We had our place for sale for over five years, then out of the blue it sold in January of 2018. So, we put our stuff in storage and packed our van to hit the road for a few months with the intention of figuring out where we want to call home.
A few of my commercial clients found out we were on the road and suddenly we were dashing across the country on several photo assignments. Negotiating backroads the entire route, we encircled the United States and Canada twice. Visiting 36 states and four provinces, we created images for the wind industry and was then hired for scouting and casting services in Montana and Michigan for a Native American ad campaign for the United States Census. We usually had plenty of time in-between locations to create our own art while exploring areas of the continent we had never experienced. We were having the time of our lives! We had more work than we had in years and creative opportunities beyond our expectations. As much fun as the last couple of years had been though, we were growing weary of van life and were ready to find a home and get our studio and darkroom out of storage. We were, and are anxious to do something with all the images we have been creating on this adventure!
When we heard the first rumblings of a pandemic on a far off continent, we were exploring the Sonoran Desert National Monument in Arizona. Our goal at the time was to travel back to Carson City and start looking for a home, but it was still winter and quite pleasant camping among the giant Saguaros. A couple of months later, we made it to Walker River Ranches State Recreation Area, near Yerington, when Nevada’s Governor Sisolak ordered everyone to shelter in place. What does shelter in place mean when you don’t have a place to call home? We stayed in the empty campground for a few more days and then all the State Parks were ordered closed. Where to go, what to do?
We reached out to friends and one offered an empty apartment over her garage in Carson City where we sheltered in place for over a month. Grateful as we are to have such generous friends, we were going buggy staying in place, like everyone else. Getting exercise or groceries proved stressful as some folks we encountered on trails and in stores were not social distancing nor wearing masks. A few would even go out of their way to ridicule or harass us. With mixed messages coming from every level of government on how to deal with the virus, we were confused on how to deal with our own situation.
At this point, we chose to listen only to science and ignore the rest. With that in mind, we decided to postpone our house search and as safely as possible wait out the pandemic. So, we thought we’d camp in remote locations to stay away from science deniers. We were totally unprepared for what we encountered in Nevada’s outback as there were an amazing number of campers tucked away in every nook and cranny. Places we had visited and camped over the years, never seeing a soul, were suddenly filled with run down campers of homeless individuals to entire homeless families, mixed in with brand new campers with all the latest gasoline powered toys. Some of the folks with the noisy toys would stop by our camp for a chat. We practiced staying upwind and keeping our distance with these encounters. On more than one occasion, these folks would comment, “Oh, you’re one of those,” then depart. This was not what we were envisioning, and we needed to go even more extreme with our social distancing.
It’s usually not too hard to find empty spaces in Nevada's Great Basin Desert, but these strange days were quite different. We started at Smith Creek Playa and the hot springs were simply too much of an attraction. The area around the springs were overwhelmed with campers. We found a smaller playa that had zero traffic and settled into a wonderful, empty expanse that was quiet and peaceful. With a plethora of activities to keep us busy, we spent a couple of months in the area. These days were amazing, the weather was perfect, and there was plenty to photograph with hiking opportunities in every direction. We could keep our power needs happy with a solar panel, but our ice and food supply could only last for two weeks before we needed to resupply. On our first trip out to restock we made a dramatic discovery: rural Nevada was not adhering to social distancing or mask recommendations. Some shops even told us we didn’t need to wear a mask, citing the Sheriff’s authority over the CDC and Governor's mandates on the virus. Clearly, we were never going to shop in those places again. We ended up traveling all the way back to Carson City to find stores with larger spaces and then we would shop at off hours. Plus, these stores and their patrons were a little better about masks and distancing than rural Nevada.
As summer progressed we found refuge from higher temperatures in the canyons of the Toiyabe Range and eventually we ended up high on a ridge at 9,000 feet to escape the searing daytime heat of the valleys below. The higher temperatures also made our ice supply dwindle quicker, sending us out to shop almost weekly. Staying clear of anti-science people turned into a stressful task. Also, smoke from wildfires across the West became an issue. We would view satellite imagery to figure out where to camp in places with less smoke. This turned out to be futile as we would frequently drive all day to end up in an area that was just as smoky. We were chased by smoke as we drove a clockwise circle around the edge of the Great Basin Desert from Northeastern California into Oregon, Idaho, and Utah before finding refuge from the intense smoke in the Goshute Mountains of northeastern Nevada. Fall was in full swing and the nights were starting to feel crisp. Nonetheless, we spent weeks there before departing for Lunar Crater in central Nevada where the nights were starting to get really cold…
We’ve enjoyed a three month winter escape from van life, house and pet sitting for friends in Reno. We are now back to extreme social distancing, watching spring arrive in the Snake Range near Great Basin National Park. We wait for the jab so we can get back to work and find a place to call home. It’s stressful being a non-essential worker and not having any income for over a year now and just not knowing what’s next. Staying away from Covidiots was our way of reducing some of the stress. We found camping in remote locations where we didn’t need to fret about contracting the virus. Even with zero work and not being eligible for unemployment or other benefits we feel genuinely lucky. We are healthy, don’t have any debt, and with luck, our meager savings will allow us to make it through the pandemic safely. Then, we can find a home, build a studio and darkroom and get back to making art!
Deon Reynolds is a photographic artist using the power of imagery to bring the past to the present while celebrating the possibilities for the future. Exploring both the physical and visual worlds, his curiosity allows him to find beauty while documenting the environment and how man interacts with it. Recently, Deon has collaborated on several large-scale, temporary, photographic public art installations in Elko and Carson City, and rogue artworks around Nevada. His portfolio, Harnessing the Wind, is included in the Archive Collection of the Center for Art + Environment. Images from that portfolio were included in the show, Extraction, at the Nevada Museum of Art in 2019.
Visit Deon’s website at: http://www.deonreynolds.com/
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