It was built round the turn of the century by Anson P. Stokes, a mining and railroad magnate, and it's purported to be an exact replica of a castle located somewhere in Italy. But it looks like a stone shoebox, stood on end, and if you're expecting a castle as in knights-of-the-round-table, you're going to go home disappointed.
Still, the building of Stokes Castle took an amazing effort, and it's worth the trip up there just to try to figure out how they did it. You'll also get an impressive view of the Reese River Valley, which is why Stokes chose that location.
The Reese River is, by the way, a river in the same sense that Stokes Castie is a castle; you have to use a little imagination. The Reese River lies 10 miles west of Austin, and if you're not watching for the sign, you'll miss it, it's that small. It's not spanned by a bridge as much as it's crossed by a cuivert, and it's among the few rivers I've seen in North America that runs from south to north.
One of the finest schemes to come out of the 19th century was the forming of the Reese River Navigation Company, which sold stock to finance the shipment of barge loads of ore from Austin to Battle Mountain, NV, via the Reese River. It was pretty creative considering that for much of the year the Reese River is little more than a series of inter-connecting mud puddles.
One of the decided advantages of life in Austin is that you don't have to
clutter up your mind figuring out what you're going to do next. Bowling is
out, as are golf, theater, dancing, boating, and browsing in shopping malls.
Television is limited to the three major networks (in theory, that is; NBC
hasn't been seen in Austin since 1985) unless you have a satellite dish,
and they've become so scrambled recently it's hardly worth the
investment.
Since I've known him he's had a couple each of motorcycles, airplanes, and hang gliders--one of which he converted into a wheeled landboat--and he currently sails off periodically in a hot-air balloon. (I've always wanted to ask him if he's ever tried skydiving, but the last time I showed an interest in his activities I found myself strapped into a hang glider. You have to watch out for his enthusiasm.)
Joe Ramos used to operate the other Chevron station in town. Ramos runs at full throttle 24 hours a day, and--the concept is foreign to me--seems to enjoy work just as much as play. He can shoot anything that runs on gunpowder and often brings home the bacon from sanctioned trapshoots around the country. If Ramos has a flaw that will cause his eventual downfall, it's his fatal tendency to bet against the San Francisco 49ers.
John Nagy once had a dog that was built like a little farm tractor, and he came up with an idea to put all that power to use. He made a harness for "Dawg" that enabled the critter to pull him to the top of a hill, no small accomplishment when you notice how steep the hills are. He did it by leaning back in the harness and throwing a stick, where upon Dawg would pull him forward. When they got to the stick, John would throw it again, and again, until they reached the top. But there came a time, as will inevitably happen in central Nevada, when the stick flushed a rabbit. The rabbit ran straight back down the hill, and Dawg's attention wavered and snapped and turned to the rabbit. Had it not been for John, flailing helplessly and hanging up in the sagebrush, he might have caught him, too. Dawg was that fast.
From these people and a lot of other Austinites, I've learned a truth that has been largely hidden over the past 30 years. Television is not an absolute necessity until football season. That fact is reflected in the schools, where the emphasis is still placed on education and about half the graduates go on to college. Austin's largest-ever graduating class, however, was in 1987 when 12 diplomas were handed out, so Austin isn't a threat to overload the halls of higher education. Yet.
As in all towns located in a mining region, Austin's population fluctuates with the price of gold, but as near as I can figure there are about 300 permanent residents and perhaps twice that many dogs. You get a full moon on a crisp winter night and let me tell you, those suckers know how to howl. Sometimes the dogs join in, too.
Jack London called it cabin fever, a highly accurate term describing a person's prison like confinement during the long winter months. You get the feeling you're trapped in a snow-village paperweight, owned by a mean, little kid who likes to shake it a lot.
Short of flying to Mexico there is no remedy, but just about the time you're ready to start chewing the linoleum, spring ar rives. At least it looks like spring. In about two hours the snow's all melted, you're outside in a T-shirt, and all the stupid, young trees are sprouting leaves. It will take many, many years before those trees realize that early leaves catch later snow, the weight of which will snap their branches like match sticks.
The older trees don't bud until the middle of June and neither do I, but
then we get our reward: four months of pure contentment, the kind that
makes cats purr. It was all put to song in the early '60s by a composer
who probably didn't even know he was writing about Austin:
"C'mon, let me show you where it's at.
"The name of the place is I-Like-lt-Like That."
Austin commemorates that phenomenon with its annual Gridley Days in June, featuring a sack-of-flour race down Main Street and an Old-Time Fiddlers' Contest at the park.
There is hardly a holiday that goes uncelebrated in Austin, and among
the most enjoyable is the Fourth of July. Highlights include a dance at the
firehouse, some headin' and heelin' a the rodeo grounds, a barbecue, a
parade, and street events. Street events are comprised of creative foot
races for kids of all ages and the Nearly-Famous Austin Egg Toss.
Stokes Castle is located on a ridge southwest of town. It can be reached by turning south just below Dory's Chevron station on the appropriately marked, Castle Road. Camping facilities are available at Bob Scott Summit, six miles east of Austin on U.S. 50, and at Big Creek, 12 miles south by dirt road. Big creek offers fine trout fishing in what is not a very Big Creek at all. Fishing is also good at Groves Lake, the reservoir above Kingston, 30 miles south of Austin on State Route 376. There is a U.S.F.S. campground below the reservoir.
For further information contact the Austin Chamber of Cornmerce, Box 212, Austin, NV 89310, or call 775-964-2200. To reach fire, emergency and law enforcement services in Austin, call 964-2661, for towing services call 964-2306.
The Eureka Opera House is just a few miles east of Austin.
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