We stopped at this strange saloon in Winnemucca, where the sign said they served food from noon. Inside it was smoky, and the bleary eyed barman was talking with the only customer under a large moosehead, to the sound of country on the local radio. He waved us in to the
cavernous dining room at the back, past the collection of wall calendars. For a place where time seems to have stood still for quite a while, the calendars were all actually showing this month of this year, perhaps as a quaint reminder of it's existence.
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