Now I had a problem. Checking on transportation to Ely, I was told that a small jitney called the Lewis Stage wouldn’t be making the run for a couple of days.
I would have to hitch-hike to Ely.
My friend, Ken, and I cruised up and down Fremont Street in his convertible until sunset, when Ken took me to the edge of town. I hitch a ride to Glendale Junction, about 40 miles east. The road to Ely left the main highway at that point.
So, guitar and baggage, I sat down on the edge of the junction, on the road to Ely, and waited for a car.
Hours passed. No cars came.
Finally, about 11 o’clock, I rested my head against my suitcase and shut my eyes. The next thing I knew, it was morning.
Then, a solitary car came along and picked me up. He took me all the way to Ely, Nevada.