Објавено: 25.07.2019
Today is a special day. I am driving 400 km through the Nevada desert, known as the 'loneliest road in America', the Highway 50. There are only 2 small towns and a Pony Express station, which is now a restaurant, between me and my destination. Otherwise, there are a few farms and nothing else. The woman serving breakfast has never driven this route, she says. She is about 60. Well, why would she?
Soon after Fallon, it becomes lonely, hardly any cars are on the road, and it is really fascinating that this is the case even during the peak travel season. I estimate that about 50 cars have passed me on the way. Really lonely. And a loneliness that almost had a bitter revenge.
After half an hour, I turn left to a large sand dune called Sand Mountain. There is only one RV in the huge parking lot. Otherwise, it's completely empty. I want to take a great picture of my pickup truck and drive directly up to the huge sand hill. Big mistake. When I try to drive away again, the wheels spin immediately. I can't get any traction in either forward or reverse. No swearing or begging will help, I need help. I can already see myself waiting by the road for a driver to call a tow truck, when I see a sand car, one of those little buggies that can drive in the sand. I shout, but he doesn't hear me. I go to the RV and realize that the trailer was carrying the sand car, as it is open. I shout, but no one answers. So, I go back to my car when the vehicle starts coming back towards me. This time he sees me and stops. It's Terry, a Californian who is on vacation here with his wife. He is 75, but you wouldn't guess it from looking at him. His wife called him, she heard me calling. And what happens next can't be described with the word 'luck'. Not only does the car have 190 horsepower, it also has a tow rope. Within 10 minutes, he has freed me from the dilemma. I can't believe my luck. I want to thank him and offer him $20 to go drink with his wife. He immediately refuses. I insist. He refuses again. So, I put the $20 in his shirt pocket and tell him that I want him to have a drink on me - and he agrees, on the condition that he takes me up the dune for a ride. I have no intention of refusing and sit next to him. At 45 miles per hour, he races up the sand hill in this $35,000 vehicle, with an incline that my pickup truck couldn't handle even on asphalt. Once at the top, we enjoy the view for a short moment before he races down at breakneck speed. When we reach the bottom, I thank him for the amazing experience and wish him all the best. What madness.
Still stunned, I reach Middlegate Station after another half an hour, a former Pony Express station that covered this route in the 19th century. Today, it is a quaint restaurant with a pub and thousands of $1 bills with greetings hanging from the ceiling. When I leave after 20 minutes, one of them is hanging up there from me.
It is difficult to describe the route in words. And even pictures don't do it justice. Endless straight stretches of road that seem to reach the horizon alternate with curvy ascents when crossing the passes. I am at an altitude of about 1500 meters, and sometimes it's almost 2000 meters. The signs that recommend using snow chains or winter tires, which are set up for the winter, currently seem like a joke - but I can still imagine how powerful the cold season can be at this altitude.
The 2 towns, Austin and Eureka, can be accurately described as 'small towns'. And an hour-long drive lies between them. These somewhat rundown remnants of Wild West towns have an almost morbid charm, and the residents greet you very friendly when you walk through the main street. Not many tourists get to see them here. Mary, who works at the saloon where I have a coffee in Eureka, says that they make a living from the workers who come here in the evening for dinner, and from the locals who don't want to give up their small town. Of course, 'loneliest road' is actually good advertising, but not everyone is interested in 400 km and 5 hours of solitude. And so, the number of tourists I see is very limited. In the Owl Club, where I have my coffee, I was only one of 3 guests and eventually completely alone, and this is the only cafe that is open during lunchtime. By the way, the brown liquid (it wasn't particularly good - as usual) cost $1.07, that's about 90 cents. And it came in a ceramic cup.
When I arrive in Ely, it had even rained a little while ago, and I brought some of the precipitation with me. The sky is overcast and it's not as hot as in Fallon. I stayed at the Nevada Hotel, a historic building from the 1920s - and it has a Wikipedia entry. There, you can read that it used to be the tallest building in the state of Nevada. And Mickey Rooney once stayed 2 rooms away from me. A quaint building that loses its charm, of course, due to the modern casino on the ground floor that reminds me of mini Las Vegas. I have a beer there and lose $10. You can't expect too much luck in one day. That would be cheeky.