Man makes plans, God laughs
I’ve always enjoyed the beauty of Lake Tahoe, so I figured on spending the weekend on the California side. Departing from Vacaville, I passed through the college town of Davis. I was astounded by the thick packs of bicycle riders everywhere! It turns out that Davis California has the highest percentage of citizens that pedal to work of any town in America. Street scenes here, especially near UC Davis look like something from another country. Pretty neat.
When I arrived in the South Lake Tahoe area, it became apparent that I misjudged the availability of places to camp. October first was considered the end of the summer tourist season, so a large percentage of the public campgrounds were shut down for the winter. At the same time, there was an Octoberfest going on so the single road on the west shore was packed, and the private RV parks had no vacancy. Eventually I did find a state park that had one loop open for dry camping with no water, power or dump station. Better than a Walmart, but with my generator out of service only an overnight was possible. No Tahoe Time for me this trip!
The next day I opted to avoid the freeway and strike out cross country to the South. The terrain forced the roads to double back a bit, but I had an early start and the wide open spaces were something different after weeks in the California rain forest.
Western Nevada
I’d forgotten just how desolate Nevada could be outside of the few population centers. You definitely don’t want to travel out here unless you are well prepared – it’s often a hundred miles to someplace where you can get food or gas, let alone auto repair or medical help. Maps will lie to you. Your GPS or atlas will show a town ahead, but when you get there half the time there is nothing but some abandoned buildings slowly melting into the sand.
I was running from a Canadian Clipper that was bringing snow to the higher elevations, so I kept moving South to avoid the weather front. I fueled up at a windswept Indian Casino and followed US 95 South to the large, shallow reservoir of Walker Lake where I pulled off to the side and opened a tin of tuna. On the South shore of the Lake is the town of Hawthorne. I could have stopped here for the night, as the adjacent Hawthorne Army Depot has created enough demand for an functional town. I still had plenty of daylight left and wanted to make sure I was beyond the freeze line, so I pressed on. The Depot proudly bills itself as “The World’s Largest Ammo Dump”, so just outside the town are acres of half-buried bomb bunkers marching out to the horizon. Here’s a flyover video.
Farther down the road I rolled through the hard-baked town of Mina, home to about 150 souls and a brothel on the edge of town that somehow manages to look garish and beat down at the same time. No, I didn’t stop, but here’s a photo essay from the regional media on the Wildcat Ranch.
Tonopah, Nevada
About half way between Tahoe and Las Vegas is the mining town of Tonopah. There’s pretty much nothing between this town and Vegas except Air Force bombing ranges and Area 51, so I decided to stop here for a couple days to see which direction the storm front would go.
Tonopah was a happening place back around the turn of the century when silver and gold was coming out of the surrounding hills. Now the economy mostly runs on money the Feds spend doing secret-ish stuff in the nearby desert like inventing stealth planes and testing nuclear weapons. I stayed in a place that was part work camp for contractors, part RV park and all gravel. Tonopah is also home to a notable piece of roadside Americana, the somewhat disconcerting Clown Motel. Rumor has it that the owner is looking to sell the place, but shockingly, nobody seems to want to buy him out.
It turned out that the cold front slashed from Reno to the Four Corners, putting snow down everywhere over 3000 ft elevation. This included my intended destination of Bryce Canyon National Park, so that plan was scrapped. The Arches and Canyonland parks were spared snow, so I made a reservation with an RV Park in Moab, Utah, two day’s travel from Tonopah.
Professional Driver on Closed Course – Do Not Attempt
Coming out of Tonopah at 10am I encountered a fellow walking along the road out of town headed into nowhere. He stuck out his thumb as I approached, but didn’t look like your typical hitchhiker – no backpack, no hat, just a short sleeve shirt and sneakers. I thought maybe he’d had car trouble or something, so I pulled over and gave him a lift.
Rousted in Tonopah – a Hitchhiker’s Story
He was a Latino guy – very cheerful. When asked where he was going, he said a dirt road only a couple miles ahead. I asked him why he was walking into the empty desert with just the clothes on his back. This was his story:
He was in Las Vegas where he had landed a job as a laborer at a mine 12 miles outside of Tonopah. He packed stuff he’d need like his coffee maker in his car and drove up the night before from Vegas. His wife was going to follow later in the week with the rest of their household. It grew late and he was tired so he decided to stop for the night and finish the trip to the mine the early next morning when he was expected to report to work. To save money, he just pulled the car off the road outside of town to sleep.
A few hours later, the Sheriff is knocking on the car window. He wants to know what the man is doing there, etc. etc. After hearing his story, he says he doesn’t believe the guy, and claims he smells alcohol on him. (I didn’t inquire whether the fellow had actually been drinking or not.) So the Sheriff puts the guy in his jail for the night and has his car impounded, coffee maker and all.
Now it’s Monday morning, he has no car and no money to pay the storage fee until he starts work at the mine, so when they let him out of lockup he starts walking. There was no way I was taking my trailer down a sketchy dirt road for ten miles, so I dropped him off at the crossroads. I apologized for not being able to take him farther, but he told me “Hey thanks man – every mile helps!”
I regretted not having a bottle of water to give him, but he never asked me for a thing other than the ride. I’ll never know how things worked out for him, but I hope he at least got his coffee maker back.
Great Basin National Park
When you leave Tonopah Nevada heading East, you are on US 50, also known as “The Loneliest Road in America”. If you are searching for time alone to think, you are on the right stretch of asphalt my friend. I was thankful I started out with a full tank and a 5 gallon can of diesel in the pickup bed, because gas stations on US 50 as rare as verified facts at a Trump press conference.
The most striking part of the drive is through the Great Basin , arrow straight and bowling alley level from the Utah state line to the Confusion Mountains.
It was after dark when I finally rolled into Delta Utah and found an overnight campsite at Antelope Valley RV Park. It was right next to the highway, but the road noise didn’t keep me from going right to sleep – it was a long day.
Next time: Southern Utah canyon country
Salt Wash Overlook, Western Utah