Monday, July 18, 2022

Highway 50, the Loneliest Highway in America

Heading off along Highway 50....
My compadre as we took a break to enjoy the vast openness and silence.
Desert sand dunes...
Sagebrush and tumbleweed...
And stark beauty.
Makes me wonder how they ever found their way around out here...
Two things about this photo... read below.
Trump lives out here...
Some of the original buildings... check the date in the window.
This picture doesn't do justice to the size and scale of the mining of the mountain range.
A town fixture with a walk of fame outside that incudes Jimmy Stewart, Lyndon Johnson, Mickey Rooney and Steven King, among others.
 Just before Delta a large windmill farm with threatening storm clouds, which came to naught thankfully.

Monday, July 18th.

I got off to a bit later start than intended, but I was on the road by 7:30. I left Fallon and rode east on highway 50, billed as the loneliest highway in America. Indeed I rode most of the day and only past three towns, Austin, Eureka and Ely. All three are throwbacks to the Civil War and were stops on the famous Pony Express which was a series of riders who delivered mail from east to west before that was put out of business by the telegraph. Speaking of that I saw a FedEx truck and a UPS truck… what is it costing them to deliver out here? As I was riding towards the sun I could see that the clarity of the air wasn’t what I’d expect out here, but I had heard that it was caused by particulate pollution from southern California, forest fires and dust. As I rode across the state the road traversed long straight periods of nothing much interspersed with the windy climbs up and over about seven different mountain ranges going from about 4000 ft to passes of 7000 ft. At the beginning of every climb there would be a sign warning that snow tires or chains are required, it made me realize the difference between their seasons. I stopped to take photos periodically and enjoyed the silence and wide open vistas. I have wondered on occasion while riding out here, how the original settlers riding in carriages managed to find their way through canyons or over mountains, they certainly weren’t able to follow the black tarmac road like I do. I rode past the Humboldt National Forest (named after the German scientist I’d been reading about who ‘invented’ nature in the 1800’s). At one of the rest stops it was covered in the largest black crickets or grasshoppers I’d ever seen. Most were dead, but others were hopping to get out of my way. Just before the town of Ely there was a large mountain range that is being mined. It looks like a checkerboard (see the photo above). They are extracting various minerals but mainly copper. The mine employs most of the people in town, oh yeah and the nearby state prison. I hung around both Austin and Ely for a while soaking up the atmosphere of towns founded in Civil War days and having seen better days. Both have delapited period buildings and empty shops. Part of that is probably because of COVID and the box type stores on their outskirts that suck the life out of small towns. Both displayed a sense of humour, with signs like: “Welcome to Austin Nevada, Social Distancing since 1862” or “What Happens in Austin You Brag About” or “You Made It! Welcome to Downtown Ely”. When I left Ely I continued on 50 until it changed names at the Utah border to 6. Right at the border I found a needed fuel stop. As I rode out into Utah the sign warned “Next Services Stop 88 miles”. It was almost dead straight for the whole drive and I saw no one in either direction - one big empty. Finally I arrived at Delta, Utah and settled into a DaysInn. Long ride today, 684 kilometres.

2 comments:

  1. Maybe I missed the "two things" about that photo... give me a hint! There are many days I'd trade Toronto traffic for some wide open road. Lucky you.

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  2. Your comments about the loneliness of highway 50 intrigued me so much that I had to see what towns like Austin, Eureka, Eli, and Delta looked like on a map. That whole drive across Nevada and into Utah to Delta even looks lonely on a map (especially when compared to maps of other states). Was 684 kilometres in a day a record for you, Joe? Either way, you must have a sore butt.

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