On a Long, Lonesome Highway: To Stop or Not?

The High Plains Drifters left Jackpot, Nevada in the nippy early morning hours on Day 2 of our winter road trip through the Southwest. It was to be another day of traveling over long, lonesome highways as we crossed this state best known for the glitz and glamour of Las Vegas. 



But away from Sin City there’s simply land; lots and lots of land.  One AAA Guidebook says of Nevada road trips, that you will either see miles of nothing or miles of everything – it’s all in your attitude. The first time we drove through the state, I’ll admit I thought it was the most God forsaken place I’d ever seen. . . it’s captured me now – this high desert landscape is lovely and lonesome.



We reached Ely, Nevada (a place deserving of its own post soon) by noon; a short break for lunch and we were back in the car en route to Utah, where we’d spend the night in St. George.


We passed a road sign that warned again picking up hitchhikers because there was a prison out there somewhere in the vast wilderness.  More miles and minutes ticked away and we were entertained by views of Wheeler Peak, 13,032 elevation, pictured above.  Our route looped around this stunning peak (there’s a 12-mile scenic drive that takes you to the 10,000 foot level on the flank of the Peak, which would have been spectacular, I’m sure) but once around the Peak our road again became. . .

. . .the long ribbon of empty highway. A place so remote that neither  ‘dumb’ or ‘smart’ phones work. They whirl endlessly searching for service. 

Joel, after some time and many miles, asked if I could recall the last time we had passed a car. Hmmmm, one, two hours?

He’d no more than asked the question when in the distance we saw a car pulled off to the opposite side of the road.  A man started waving his arm to flag us down, a woman stood by the SUV with its engine hood raised. . .


To stop or not to stop? 

Joel slowed, crossed the road to where the man was standing but kept our car in gear, foot on the brake.   Turns out this 40-something-year-old couple, who lived in a town a hundred miles away, were on a day’s outing to go ‘prospecting’ in the hills when their car broke down.  They couldn’t call for help – no cell phone service. It was too far to walk.  They’d tried flagging down the  few cars that had passed (obviously long before we arrived) but as the man said, “You know how it is. In this day and age, they don’t stop.”

I can’t tell you how profoundly grateful they were that we had pulled over.

We took all their information (their GPS, by the way, showed them on the wrong highway – luckily our old ‘paper map in the lap’ showed the road we were all on).  It was many miles down the road before we reached a place we could call 9-1-1. The dispatcher assured us he’d ‘get someone right out there’.  We suspect he did!

How sad, that we actually have to think twice about stopping to help someone these days. On this Travel Tip Tuesday, we ask the question:  To stop or not to stop?  What would you have done?

High Plains Drifters: A Thanksgiving Jackpot

The High Plains Drifters (our Southwestern nom de blog) brought the song lyrics, “Over the river and through the woods. . .” to life on Thanksgiving morning. 



Tossing aside the traditional holiday falderal, we set out – for the first time ever - on a winter road trip. We headed for America’s Southwest on a 1,628 mile route that would take us from Washington State, across Oregon and a tip of Idaho, into Nevada, Utah and to our destination, Arizona.

Winter road trips through this area of the country require bi-polar packing: flip-flops, shorts, and suntan lotion in the suitcases that sit next to tire chains, snow boots, gloves and window scrapers in the car’s trunk.

We were prepared for winter’s potentially worst driving conditions and were pleasantly surprised to find the only ‘snowy conditions’ were on the trees and roadside on Washington’s Snoqualmie Pass (top photo).

It was sunshine and blue skies as we crossed the Columbia River and entered Oregon country.



Crossing Oregon’s Blue Mountains (this photo at the summit) was a snap. Traveling on Thanksgiving Day made for virtually no traffic. . .we did pass a group of wild turkeys standing along the roadside, showing off, we think,  for having avoided the platter for another year.

Our route through central Oregon was flanked with the Wallowa Mountain range in the distance to our left and the Blue Mountains (pictured) to our right.

Day 1: Was a bottom-buster:  11 hours and 693 miles.  Subsequent days we allowed ourselves a bit more sightseeing, fewer miles and less hours in the car. 

We reached our destination: Jackpot, Nevada – a wide spot in the road just south of the Idaho border, with four casinos, three hotels and a service station at 6:45 p.m. our time; 7:45 p.m. by the Mountain Time they follow here.The casino/hotel we’d hoped to stay in was sold out – luckily the place across the street, Barton’s Club 93  had rooms ($57 a night)and food. 




We could have had the traditional turkey either as a plated meal or from the buffet.  But we’d already thrown tradition aside. . .

. . . so we opted to hit the Thanksgiving Jackpot with chicken fried steak platters!

Hope you’ll come back for Day II of the winter road trip – we’ll be leaving early tomorrow so pack your bag and join us!

Nevada's 'Biggest Little City in the World'

Google Maps and Expedia had nailed it pretty well - it took us just less than their estimated eight hours to travel from Las Vegas to Reno, Nevada. They listed 452 miles, we traveled 465. We also veered off their directions (when do we ever follow set routes?) and took the scenic route north primarily following State Route 95 and its Alternate SR 95.  We followed long stretches of deserted roadway through unseasonably green desert lands. 

The route provided us a trip through history thanks to the small towns through which we passed.  Towns such as Goldfield where empty buildings are but a reminder of its glorious goldmining days. It's just down the road 'a piece' from Tonopah, the town I wrote about a few days ago.  Goldfield's 1906 Esmeralda County Courthouse seems to be in the best shape with the old hotel down the road appearing to be poised for renovation.

   Mining operation near Goldfield/Tonopah

Mina, an old railroad town founded back in 1905, about an hour from Goldfield, seemed to have nothing more open than a single burger joint.  A sign welcomed ATV-ers (that would be all-terrain vehicles) to its more than 500 miles of trails and a subsequent internet search after we got home confirmed it's popularity with outdoor enthusiasts.

A couple hours beyond Mina we passed the Wabuska Bar and Rooms, a wooden building dating back to 1881; then a stop on the East-West Rail line.  The place is for sale according to the internet - hopefully the new owners will retain its historic presence in the middle of the desert.

There were a few brothels along the way as the activity inside them is legal in parts of the state. For more on this topic you'll have to do your own roadtrip or internet research.

The High Plains Drifters crossed elevations some 5,000 - 6,000 feet in height with temperatures at the summits in the 90's - I couldn't help but think of those pioneers who crossed these vast countrysides on horseback and in covered wagons. It was early afternoon when we reached Walker Lake a 12-mile long, 5-mile wide liquid oasis near the town of Hawthorne.  I read an article recently about words to avoid in travel writing.  "Oasis" is such a word. The article's authors claimed their are few true such places - I believe they need to do a road trip in Nevada and they'll change their minds on that word.  RV's and motorhomes were beginning to stake claims to spots along its banks of the 'oasis' as the Fourth of July long weekend approached.

We could have reached Reno sooner and maybe even shaved off some of the miles we logged that day, but the point of the trip had been to see the sights and on this particular day we got our money's worth!