Saturday, September 16, 2006: Ely, NV to Carson City, NV

It's funny, I had mention several hundred miles back that I expected at least once on this trip to have an exotic car pass us at high speed. Never happened. This stretch of US-50 may be "lonely" most of the time, but not this weekend. Cars of all stripe are congregated here in Elko—often in make-and-model cliques as pronounced as the human racial self-segregation you sometimes see. All Chevies here; Corvettes in a neat subset. T finds a page from a local paper with all the entrants. I find it hard to believe that ANY car and driver can AVERAGE 180 mph over 90 miles of highway if it has any curves at all—it means they'd have to go as much over 180 on the straightaways as they go under 180 for the bends. "Michael Borders" plans to do just that in a 1999 Chevrolet Monte Carlo; it says here he averaged 182. Wayne Skiles, with the Lamborghini shown, apparently didn't run in the race, but clocked in at 139 mph in the one-mile shootout.

In the morning, I leave the motel room to take Laika for a walk (and maybe find some espresso). There's a Ferrari parked next to the Saturn, and I'd like to get a picture, but by the time I'm back, they've left for the city park, where the cars will be on display today before the race.

As we head out on our walk and are crossing a side street, I see two dogs barrel out of a driveway and come running straight at us. One looks like an Aussie Blue Heeler, the other like a border collie mix. They bark and bite at Laika's hindquarters as I try to hurry us out of their territory and she tucks tail under and runs with me. As we leave, they back off, but then charge again, growling and seemingly determined to do Laika harm. I find that I have some aggression and protectiveness of my own, and without thinking lunge at them yelling, "Back Off!", which to my surprise and delight, it works, as they run off for home. I understand now that this is our agreement...I'll go off on the dogs that bother us, and she goes off on the people. It's a good arrangement.

On the road again... US-50, it must be said, could probably support a 100 mph average for any car that can do 120. But it's not just blank flat desert. There are actually many signs of life, including quite a lot of vegetation.

sheep

more sheep

golden eagle

golden eagle

golden eagle

road ahead

desert

desert

Eureka, NV is a bit of a tourist trap, "The Friendliest Town on the Loneliest Road." We don't stay long; just stroll a couple of blocks of the main drag (US-50). There's some quaint stuff, some historic stuff, and some pure kitschy crap, but I suppose you get that anywhere. The fifth picture below was taken through a hole in the door shown in the sixth picture—it appears that the bank safe was free for the taking.

More "lonely" road, more scenery. Often, the view straight ahead is like this: miles and miles, with a mirage effect at the horizon.

The Hickison Petroglyph Recreation Area is a good stop. Laika gets to go off the leash for a while, and we get an actual bona-fide half-mile hike. This is a BLM area, with interesting enough petroglyphs and what looks like a pretty nice campground.

More "Loneliest Road" stuff...

Pretty much in the middle of nowhere, by the side of the road, I see a large tree adorned with hundreds, maybe thousands, of shoes. Just the kind of weird thing we like! We must stop and get a few pictures... and, as it turns out, add a pair of shoes.

I realize I've probably worn my hiking shoes as much as I'm going to on this trip; we're on the road home now. And, as fate would have it, I have new pair on order and probably waiting for me at home. It's the perfect opportunity, and I heave my beloved Merrell's into the collection. About three times. And I never do get the poor thing into the tree...but they're part of the collection nonetheless.

Shoe tree, and a bug's-eye view of US-50

Much of the geology here is reminiscent of Death Valley (which we visited in 2002, 2001, 2000, 1998, and 1996), and I realize that of course this is just a couple hundred miles north of DV, so duh!

We pass Sand Mountain, which looks like a really cool place to climb—until we notice all the RVs parked at the bottom and ATVs crawling all over it. If we had an ATV, it might be fun to roar up and down the big dune spewing sand around, making a lot of noise and perhaps breaking our necks with a bunch of other folks with ATVs, but today I'll give it a miss.

Signs of civilization appear as we near the "Biggest Little City in the World," and I'm a little sad to be leaving the big "empty" space of the desert. Then, too, there is apparently not a room to be had in one of the largest gambling meccas in the world and we have to drive a half-hour south to Carson City for lodging—absurdly overpriced lodging, again, with no fridge or microwave, but at least an open restaurant nearby.