Monday, June 6
Time to take on the last 954km stretch to
get home. We packed our
bags in the trunk in the chilly morning for the last time and started heading
for Ely, NV,
220 km’s or so to the west. The road lay ahead of us straight as a light-ray
for many miles before hitting the foot-hills in the distance. After a few hours
of fairly event-less cruising and a border crossing into NV, we came to Ely to
top up gas (recommended) and get a bite to eat before entering the “Loneliest Highway
in United States”.
Ely didn’t convey much positive vibration to me, likely because gambling,
wearing cowboy apparel, driving big trucks with V8’s and shooting are fairly
low on my list of interests (sorry if I misjudged during my short visit).
Anyway,
we brought a couple of sandwiches from Subway and equipped with water and a
full tank of gas we set out to conquer US-50 through Nevada. The road was not as lonely as some
of the other roads we’d been on and we both passed and met quite a few cars
although it wasn’t exactly crowded. After searching in vane for a decent
rest-stop, we finally settled on a gravel-pile on the side of the road at 39
22’ 29” N and 115 50’ 20” E to provide some seating comfort. I stepped out in
the middle of the empty road and snapped a few pictures before eating a dry
sandwich with water.
Contrary
to available information, both Eureka and Austin had motels and at least Austin had gas, so the undisputable need for
a full tank in Ely wasn’t altogether true.
Just
before Fallon a huge salt-flat opened up on both sides of the road where countless
names where written in the white salt with the dark-red lava-rock sprawled on
the road-sides, so I pulled off to let the kids leave their contribution to the tradition.
We
stopped in Fallon to clean the windshield for the hundredth time and to get
gas. I was disappointed to learn that my assumption had been wrong in that the
“US-50 Survivors Kit” obviously still was obtainable and valid as stated on the
sign at the gas-station. The lady confirmed that they could provide one of the
five stamps (I believe) needed to get the diploma signed by the governor of Nevada. We took a walk
to the next building down the street to indulge some coffee and I got a
double-shot cappuccino that was really strong. Fallon seemed much more liberal
and a bit more rock and roll than other Nevada
towns we’d seen.
From
Fallon all the way past Carson City
the road was running through more or less suburban areas and we actually got
stuck in light rush-hour traffic at about 5pm. I was relieved to get away from
the traffic and take on the last familiar slope up towards Lake
Tahoe. Tahoe was unbelievably cold at only 7C and after swinging
around the eastern shore and going through a fairly empty South Lake Tahoe, we were now on the very last and familiar part of 50
heading down towards El Dorado Hills. To our surprise it was raining in Shingle
Springs and looking west towards Sacramento
it looked overcast.
At
about 8pm we finally drove up on our drive way and opened the garage. I got
everything taken out of the car, and after a dinner at home it was time to take
some rest before giving the car a much needed “shaving” to rid it off the about
one billion flies stacked on its front.
It
has been a good trip and I want to do it again – on that motorcycle I started
musing about after leaving Mexican Hat. No doubt has the M5 provided the utmost
one can wish from a family car, room and luxurious comfort for four people and
luggage in a car with high-end sports performance and amazing handling on the
road, but I’m sure the freedom experienced from a motorcycle on the empty
winding roads we’ve been on would be hard to beat.