Lighter in our wallets, we six friends leave the glitz and glamour of Vegas with the goal of reaching Reno using only back roads.
The first warning that Nevada is not simply sagebrush-covered desert but is full of fascinating sights comes near the town of Alamo. The sides of a gas station and restaurant are painted in UFOs and aliens. This is Area 51, an internationally renowned spooky area where the U.S. government is said to have conducted top-secret experiments, and aliens from distant galaxies frequently visit.
Even the state map shows the road leading to the little town of Rachel as the Extraterrestrial Highway. I chew a Hell Hole Hot Alien Jerky and can feel a tingle, a bizarre energy in the hot, dry air.
A few miles farther north, our van pulls in at Kershaw-Ryan State Park with steep reddish cliffs and, surprise, an oasis of green grass and a man-made pool at the bottom of Kershaw Canyon. Led by Eli, a park ranger, we hike out of the cool shade and into a barren landscape dotted with sagebrush and prickly pear cactus. The bright yellow blossoms of the rubber rabbit brush contrast with the dry rocks and soil.
We pass an occasional lonely juniper tree as we zigzag up to a lookout. Eli points and says the cliffs were created by water carving channels into the rock deposited by volcanic eruptions about 11 million years ago. We marvel at the vast landscape laid out before us.
Farther north, we come upon a spectacular natural formation: the slot canyons of Cathedral Gorge State Park.
The soft bentonite clay spires remind me of the hoodoos of the Badlands, and resemble cathedrals, fortresses and baroque architecture, all dancing under a hot, arid sun.
I squeeze into a narrow slot and follow the curving vertical canyon deep into the tall spires. Dramatic patterns, like flutes, run vertically upward for about seven metres before ending in a dazzle of bright, blue sky. It is cool and a bit claustrophobic, yet stunningly beautiful and peaceful, like being encased in a geologic womb.
We drive into Pioche, a town that鈥檚 straight out of the Wild West and brags that 75 people died of gunshots before the first person passed away from natural causes. Jim Kelly, a local historian and colourful character, says it was once the richest, roughest and most remote mining boom town in America.
In those days, Pioche had 100 saloons and about the same number of brothels, he says.
听
> See SURVIVAL, page D7
听
He tours us around the Million Dollar Court House, calling the building a 鈥渕onument to graft, greed, and corruption.鈥� The courthouse (and the jail in back) wasn鈥檛 meant to cost that much. It was contracted to be built in the 1870s for $26,400, but cost overruns, declining tax revenues and refinancing by corrupt officials resulted in serious interest accumulation. When the obligations were finally paid off in 1937, the total had grown to $1 million.
In the courthouse, now a museum, we learn about the history of the town and the development of the American west. Kelly explains how the worst outlaw in the region was Pioche gunslinger Morgan Courtney, who killed several men during his stay in Pioche, mostly involving mines and mining claims. He was gunned down in 1873 by a rival for the affections of a local prostitute. Later, we visit his grave in Boot Hill Cemetery, where the tombstones cast long shadows in the evening sun.
At Great Basin National Park, we drive to the face of 13,063-foot Wheeler Peak and can see forever in the dry air. Most impressive are the 5,000-year-old Bristlecone pine trees, which are the oldest living things on earth. I feel humble as I think of the long history these gnarled, wizened trees have experienced.
We enter the refreshingly cool Lehman Caves. The guide explains how the caves formed over millions of years by slightly acidic groundwater percolating through and slowly dissolving the limestone rocks, eventually creating rooms and passageways. Our flickering lights expose fantastic stalactites, columns, draperies, flowstones, helicities, soda straws, organ pipes, and rare shield formations.
The guide describes how early settlers used the rooms for meetings. Weddings were performed in the cave, and music was played on the stalactites and stalagmites. 鈥淒uring Prohibition,鈥� she adds, 鈥渓iquor was snuck into the cave and it was used as a speakeasy.鈥� I鈥檓 impressed by the bizarre shapes, but feel uncomfortable, for we humans are not naturally underground beings.
We turn west and for the rest of the trip travel along Highway 50, which in 1986 was labelled the Loneliest Road in America by Life magazine. The AAA warned that travellers here need good survival skills.
We stop in Ely, a pretty little town of 4,262 and once the centre of a major copper-mining area. What a difference from rural sa国际传媒. The Hotel Nevada & Gambling Casino, where we stay, was built in 1928, has acres of neon out front, and about a hundred slot machines in the lobby. The beer and gambling flow 24/7. Gawking, we slowly drive past the Stardust Ranch Saloon and Brothel.
Best of all is the Nevada Northern Railway, a fabulous historic train that has been fully restored and offers one of the best train rides in America. I climb briefly into the engine and watch the engineer shovel coal into the roaring flames. As we chug into the dry countryside, dark smoke billows into the air.
Continuing west, the long, lonely road stretches in front, with not a car or human structure in sight. Suddenly, five pronghorn antelope bounce elegantly across the road. Later, we see a herd of wild mustangs silhouetted on the horizon, and I envy their freedom to roam wherever they wish.
At the Hickison Summit Petroglyph Area, we walk along trails past red cliffs with petroglyphs inscribed on them. The rocks are speaking, but I can鈥檛 decipher the message. My guidebook doesn鈥檛 help, stating that who carved them and their meaning are unknown, but they could be 10,000 years old. I sense ancient ghosts walking with us.
We climb onto an outlook and gaze over a vast desert landscape, transected in the distance by lonely Highway 50, which follows the route taken in 1845 by John Fremont, an explorer, military officer, and politician.
A little later, a strange sight greets us: a mountain of sand, which is 3.2 kilometres long and 180 metres high. This is the Sand Mountain Recreation Area, and the high-pitched whine of ATVs fills the air; we see plumes of dust as they race up and down the dune. Donna Cossette, of the Paiute-Shoshone tribe, says the mountain, known as the Sleeping Serpent, is sacred to her people. 鈥淏ut it no longer sings. We鈥檙e lobbying the [Bureau of Land Management] to close activity here for parts of the year.鈥� We kick off our shoes and hike upward; I can almost hear the sand singing beneath my feet.
We continue toward the west and into Fallon, a greener area known for Heart of Gold cantaloupes. As we drive farther, urbanization creeps upon us. And then we are in Reno with malls, high-rise casinos, and traffic lights. It feels so wrong, artificial and crowded. I yearn to be back on the Loneliest Road, with views that stretch forever.
听
If You Go
Many airlines provide flights from Vancouver to Las Vegas with a return from Reno, or vice versa.
Rent a car from either Vegas or Reno with a drop at the other city.
Be sure to fill up the tank frequently; gas stations are few.
Carry a cellphone, water, and extra rations in case of breakdown.
听
