Back to Unique Nevada
My mother and I took a large, almost five-week, tour
through the USA in September and October 2006. It was
the fourth trip for my mother and the 11th trip for me
to the USA. You can call us USA fans, and for us the USA
is our favorite vacation land. In my former trips to the
USA I traveled a lot of time and miles through the
southwest.
We saw a lot of U.S. national parks and monuments,
and my mother and I like the beautiful landscape, the
blue sky and the friendly people. You will never find
places in Europe like the southwest.
During our trip in 2006 we hit Highway 50 and were
overwhelmed by the great wide land. We drove a lot of
miles absolutely lonely on the highway and felt the
spirit of the West. We tried to imagine the brave men of
the Pony Express and the overland stagecoaches, the
miners and all of the people of the frontier; they
discovered the USA in the 18th, 19th and 20th
centuries.
On a byway of Highway 50, we met a young couple from
New York on their way from New York to San Francisco, by
bike!
The trip on the Highway 50 was for
us the highlight of our travel, and we saw a lot of
other worldwide known points, like Grand Canyon, Bryce
Canyon, Death Valley and cities like Los Angeles and San
Francisco. We like these places too, but travelling on
Highway 50 was a new experience for us Europeans. We do
not have this unlimited land and you will not feel the
spirit of freedom in Germany, like in your land —
Nevada.
Believe it or not, my mother, 70 years old, drove the
most of the trip on Highway 50 and she enjoyed her
“job.” She remembers every part of the trip and she
tells her adventure to her friends, and a lot of her
friends cannot imagine the “Highway 50 adventure” of my
mother.
We both do not agree with the AAA
report that on Highway 50 are no points of interests. We
like every mile and we stopped more often in the
wilderness, as you can imagine. I took a lot of photos,
but on the photos, as good they are, you never can
imagine the original feeling on Highway 50. You must
dare and be there by your own.
In every town, we stopped to validate our Highway 50
Survival Guide and we met a lot of friendly people. But
unfortunately, the time went by very quick, and we had
to leave Highway 50 and the USA.
-Marga and Klaus Degelmann
Nurnberg, Germany
A Day on the Loneliest Highway
Elsi Dodge
When I was quite small, my parents planned a long
road trip in our small, three-door car. My
grandmother put together a series of small gifts —
nothing marvelous, just crayons, coloring books, little
stories, a pocket doll — for me to open at specified
intervals along the way: “When there are three 5s
on the odometer”; “when Daddy stops for gas”; “after you
wake up from a nap.”
I have copied Granny’s idea for children traveling
with me. It helps to pass otherwise endless hours,
keeping a bored child looking forward to something,
giving a feeling of accomplishment on a regular
basis.
So, thank you, Nevada Commission on Tourism, for
being my wonderful Granny! You kept this
59-year-old child happy the entire width of Nevada.
 Now, first I would like to take issue with the 1986 AAA and Life Magazine people
(who first called Highway 50 “The Loneliest Road
in America”). After all, I’ve driven across
Wyoming, Montana, and Kansas. I’ve traversed
eastern Colorado, western Missouri, Nebraska, and
eastern Washington. I know boring roads when I meet
them.
And I know what to do on those lonely, boring
highways: choose a book on tape (or CD), hit
cruise control, and grind out the miles. But the little
“Highway 50 Survival Guide” provided me with interest
along the way. How many miles to the next place I
can get my book stamped? I hope I make it to the next
gas station. There’s that slightly slower truck
again.
Listening to a book, I would have noticed nothing
beyond staying in my lane, watching for traffic,
avoiding creating road kill. But tracking the
loneliest highway, I watched the scenery along the
road.
I came around a curve and noticed four different
colors of earth: gray, tan, yellow, and red. I saw
the different shades and shapes of the bushes, trees,
cacti, and grass. I wished I were an artist so I could
draw or describe the mighty outcroppings of rocks.
I felt like a character in a travelogue, passing
through plains, desert, and mountains under an
unchanging sky. I spotted white stone turrets through
the trees just east of Eureka. I shuddered, thinking
about pioneers in covered wagons, hunters and trappers,
and Pony Express riders. I discovered a national park I
had never heard of, and was able to visit part of the
Lehman Caves in spite of my mobility difficulties.
 And I met the sweet director of
the Eureka Opera House Museum; a group of firefighters
at the Toiyabe Café in Austin, waiting to be served by
the friendly proprietor, an overworked cook, and a
helpful child; a kind propane-buyer at the gas station
in Harmon Junction, who patiently answered my questions
about the salt flats.
Please understand that I never wanted to go to
Nevada. It was just in the middle of my travels to
Yosemite National Park from Colorado. But I hope
to come back, to drive the Loneliest Highway again.
Thank you!
Last summer (2006) we left Quincy, Calif., and took a
trip through a portion of Nevada; basically US-50, then
south on US 93, then west on NV 395 and US 95. Our
main goal was to travel US 50 and our trip basically
started just east of Fallon at Grimes Point
Archeological Site. We were truly amazed at the
petroglyphs there and were amazed at the number of
them. It was a great way to start our trip and it
just kept getting better with each stop.
 We like to hike when we travel, and Nevada offered us
plenty of opportunities to do that, so this was a real
positive part of our trip. The people of Nevada
were unbelievable. Everywhere we stopped they were
very helpful and friendly (and that’s with California
license plates). I must say I think we have a
story about the people we met from each stop. Some
were simply from other travelers to the local folks in
the towns and commercial businesses. Every
courthouse we visited the employees were very helpful
and gave us ideas of additional things to see.
I must single out your Nevada State Park
employees. They are those most phenomenally
professional and helpful group of people we have ever
dealt with. They made time to talk with us, made
us feel welcome and again, offered suggestions that
would make our trip more enjoyable. Because of
them and the fabulous facilities and sights to see and
trails to hike, we will be returning to your state
parks.
One individual I would like to single out is Bryon
Mahoney. He gave us a tour of the Barrick Ruby
Hill Mine that was extremely interesting and he made it
personal. Of course, it was a lady (we did not get
her name) in the courthouse in Eureka that told us about
the mine. Another group I would like to mention
are the folks that work at WSE Auto in Ely; we had some
tire issues on our fifth-wheel, and they were extremely
helpful.
In Eureka, Leslie (a butcher at the Raines Market)
was fun to talk to and gave us ideas of things to see.
Plus, her homemade chorizo is great! And a lady at the
courthouse gave us information about the Barrick Ruby
Hill Mine and we called out there and Bryan Mahoney gave
us a two-hour tour. And the food at the Pony Express
Deli is delicious.
We could make this letter a lot longer because we
really do have a story to tell about the visits and
people we met at each of the places listed on the
attached sheet. From the bartender who raises emus
to the Nevada travelers that we met at the Hickison
Petroglyphs (we buy our home brew supplies at the same
place in Reno) to the state park employees at all the
state parks listed. If you would care to hear some
of the stories, we would be glad to provide them.
Thank you, Nevada, for a wonderful summer trip.
Thanks!
Charlie and Jill Brown
Quincy, Calif.
This trip I did the whole route and had so much fun
stopping in each town. Thanks for the great
promotion.
Alice Foote
Wilmette, Ill.
Greetings!
I visited with someone in your office while on our
trip to California and explained my situation. We
planned our trip on the Loneliest Road in America. It
was great fun and our passengers enjoyed getting their
cards and maps stamped.
(The Survival Guide) made for a great addition to my
trip and shared a lot of information with my passengers.
We stayed in Ely and Carson City on our way out and
Tonopah and Las Vegas on our way home. Our passengers
totally enjoyed the trip and I think you for the
hospitality of your state.
I look forward to coming your way again.
Clara Hill
Tour Planner
I would like to take this opportunity to express what
a wonderful experience my firend and I had traveling
“The Loneliest Road in America.”
To begin with, our journey was by Harley Davidson
motorcycles. We had a conference in Denver, Colo, and
decided to mix business with pleasure. It was decided
that we would meet in Reno and travel Highway 80. On our
way back, our plan was to take Highway 70 from Denver
and hook up with Highway 50 and follow it to Reno.
What an adventure!
Since our bikes had a range of around 180 miles, we
were concerned about the availability of gasoline. Our
first stop was Baker to gas up and we traveled to Ely to
have breakfast at the Nevada Club. There, we found an
exhibit of old Harley Davidson and Indian Motorcycles
along with some motorcycle memorabilia. This old casino
was built in the 1920s and it had the charm and history
that can only come with age. The food was delicious, but
the service was outstanding. As strangers, we were made
to fell welcome and the staff was very accommodating. We
didn’t feel like “another tourist” there to gamble.
After breakfast we continued through the varying
countryside until we stopped at our overnight
destination of Eureka, Nev. I was especially curious of
this town since I live in Eureka, Calif.
What a jewel. We stayed at the Eureka inn and I asked
for my AARP discount. The nice lady behind the counter
said she would give us their Harley Davidson discount,
which was more than our other discount. She also stamped
my Survival Guide. Since we had time to kill, we toured
the Eureka Museum and took much of the walking tour
around town. There was so much history to take in
and the town’s folks were very obliging in filling in
the gaps. We had a fine dinner in town and met up with
some BMW motorcycle riders who were traveling the
highway from the other end. After a few drinks and
sharing stories of the open road, we know we had met
kindred spirits.
The next morning, after eating the breakfast offered
by the inn, we continued our journey. Our first stop was
Austin, where we gassed up and got our guides stamped.
We had a nice conversation with the attendant at the gas
station and took a tour around town. My imagination was
running wild as I pictured how it must have been back in
the days when mining was the major industry in the
area. The miners of the 19th century were
certainly a hearty bunch of folks to exist out in such a
remote area.
As we were about one hour into our next leg of the
journey, we spotted the “Shoe Tree,” which had about a
million shoes dangling from its branches. We stopped to
take pictures and met some folks traveling by RV. After
swapping howdies and sharing stories of our travels, we
headed west and stopped in a place called Middlegate.
Middlegate boasts a population of 17 and is truly in the
middle of nowhere. This placed looked like it was the
leftover of a set from “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.”
I expected to see Clint Eastwood walking down the dirt
road ready to draw his pistol at the slightest
provocation. We dismounted our bikes and walked into the
saloon looking for something wet and cool to quench our
parched throats. Instead of being met by steely-eyed
banditos, we were met by the nicest bunch of local folks
one could run across. Kate was running the bar and made
us feel right at home. We ordered soft drinks and were
amazed at the décor of the place. The room had some
strategically placed tables and all sorts of memorabilia
hanging on the walls and from the rafters. But most
impressive was the ceiling, which was practically
covered with autographed dollar bills of folks who had
visited the “Middle of Nowhere.” It seems this fine
establishment throws a barbecue for motorcyclists each
September and they offer overnight accommodations by way
of camping and a small motel.
We were on the outskirts of Fallon when we thought we
were being attacked by fighter plans. It seems Fallon
has a Naval Air Station where they conduct weapons
training. What a thrill we had watching the jets do
low-level maneuvers and how loud they sounded when they
kicked on the afterburners.
Fernely holds a special place for me, as I have a
closer relative buried at the Veterans’ Cemetery there.
We stopped at the Chamber of Commerce to find it was
closed for lunch. After paying my respects at the
Veterans’ Cemetery, we rejoined Highway 80 West and
retraced our steps to Reno, which we had left a mere 10
days before on our journey to Denver.
Highway 50 has a lot of open spaces with portions of
the road as straight as an arrow. But it is not
overdeveloped with Disneyland-type attractions. Instead,
it is a sampling of the raw countryside our forefathers
traveled to populate the West. Even traveling by
motorcycle, I could not help but marvel at the tenacity
and bravery those pioneers exhibited.
What I took away with me from this journey across the
“Loneliest Road in America” was not so much that it was
lonely, but that those intrepid fokls who occupy the
towns and way stations of this road were some of the
most interesting, helpful, generous and downright
friendly people I have had the pleasure of meeting. Life
Magazine had it all wrong, Highway 50 is not the
“Loneliest Road in America,” for me it was the
“Friendliest Road in America.”
Bob Morelli
Eureka, Calif.
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