I was staying in a Motel 6 in Winnemucca, Nevada, once, on my way back east from living in California for three years. It was July 1992 and the Democratic National Convention was on TV. As I was watching, I moved the pillow a bit and a fearsome bug with pincers scuttled out. I leapt up and saw another.
I tried to ignore them, but after five minutes or so of trying I realized there was going to be no sleeping in that room. I drove around to the office and complained to the night manager. He professed not to believe me, but I persisted, and we went off to investigate. He saw them. "Those are just earwigs!" he said, laughing as he explained they were a fact of life there. "You're in the desert now!"
I did not tell him that I was paying him to keep the desert out of my room. Eventually he refunded my money. I drove all over town looking for a different room, but none were to be had. Winnemucca sits on I-80 about halfway between San Francisco and Salt Lake, a day's drive from either with not much in between. On that summer night its hotel rooms were filled with travelers and truckers, a fact the manager no doubt knew as he happily gave me my money back.
Eventually I got back on 80 and headed east. A few miles out of town, with the lights of Winnemucca - such as they are - behind me, I found myself driving under the most dense blanket of stars I've ever seen. On a clear summer night in the desert, the stars come all the way down to the horizon. Even growing up in the country in the midwest, I'd never seen so many stars covering the whole sky. It's one of the most memorable experiences of nature I've ever had.
I drove on under those stars for a couple hours before pulling up at a rest stop and stretching out the best I could across the seat. In the morning the sun woke me and I drove on. Deprived of sleep I convinced myself that the only breakfast that could possibly suffice was a Denny's Grand Slam, and even though I was starving I passed many diners and truck stops, certain that the next exit, or the one after that surely, would have a Denny's.
Eventually I gave up and ate at some little mom & pop place in the foothills of western Utah. Shortly after that I found myself driving across the salt flats, and then a few hours later I was smelling the rank air at the Great Salt Lake.
That's what I think of every time I think of earwigs. It was over 20 years ago and it seems like yesterday.