The Loneliest Road

In 1986, Life Magazine called Route 50 through Nevada the loneliest highway in America. They actually issued warnings for parts of the drive. Cathy says lonely does not begin to describe it. Forlorn, desolate, rough, isolated, remote, vast, haunting, and yes, hauntingly beautiful. 

It was the second day of driving our new (to us) Sprinter camper van from California, home to Virginia. After spending the night camping at Donner Pass State Park, CA, we headed for Carson City, NV and the start of the Loneliest Road. Driving through the Sierra Nevada Mountains, I thought about both the bravery and the foolishness of the Donner Party all those years ago. If you are not familiar with the story, look it up. It is a good combination of pioneer spirit, heroics, stupidity, and pigheadedness, with a little cannibalism thrown in. 

At Reno, we turned south for Carson City and finally arrived on Route 50 and turned East. From Carson City to Fallon, it is pretty enough, and remote, but there are still little farms, villages, and trailer-parks along the way. From Fallon on, it is a different story. 

It is open – wide open as you head east. The road is straight for as for as the eye can see. The glare off the ground and the sky worked on my eyes and I often found myself putting my sunglasses on and then taking them off. There was little traffic in either direction. I felt small as we drove along. 

Much of Route 50 follows the original Pony Express route and there are markers for where many of the stations were, typically 6-20 miles apart. The station at Middlegate is still there. Or rather, the station has been converted to a modern version of a Pony Express Station – fuel, a small bar/restaurant, and a few rooms. We stopped in for lunch and a beer. The place wasn’t crowded, but the food was good and the beer was cold. After filling up on diesel, we pushed on toward Eureka. 

The road fell away before us. It was usually straight, with the occasional curve through the hills. The isolation was complete with few other vehicles and nothing manmade in any direction. Eventually, coming down out of some hills, we did a quick stop in the living ghost town of Austin, and viewed some petroglyphs on a short hike. Later, around 5PM, we arrived in Eureka, where we were spending the night at the allegedly haunted Jackson Hotel. As we were entering the hotel, a young kid on a bike said hi and asked if we were staying at the hotel. After we said yes, he answered he wouldn’t stay there for anything. The place was haunted and he had seen two old-men ghosts. We told him we would chance it. I ain’t afraid of no ghosts… 😉

Dinner was interesting that night. On a recommendation from the hotel, we ate at the Urban Cowboy. John Travolta was nowhere around, but I did find an excellent curry. You heard me right. The menu mostly consisted of burgers, burritos, and Indian food. The bartender and waiter were both Indian, and I took that as a good sign. My chicken korma curry was excellent. 

For the record, we didn’t see any ghosts. I did hear some funny sounding running footsteps that repeated a couple of times, either in the hallway, or in my mind.

Leaving Eureka the next morning, the road twisted and turned between hills, before returning once again to straight-aways. We were generally between 6,500 and 7,000 feet of elevation, and even though it was a cloudy day, you could still see forever. The land seemed either God-forsaken, or God-blessed, depending on your perspective at the time. I could not imagine crossing it in old west times. 

We passed through Ely, which was a bit disappointing. We had planned to stop and walk around, but there was major construction on Route 50 for most of the way through town. We kept driving instead. 

An hour outside of Ely, we left route 50 and turned south for Great Basin National Park. We would spend the next two nights camping in the Park at Wheeler Peak Campground, which sits at 10,000 feet above sea level. 

 We took a day and a half to cross the 400 plus miles of The Loneliest Highway. It was time well spent and if you are out this way, I encourage you to try it. It is worth the detour. There are things to do along the way, but the real attraction is the road itself – the vastness, the beauty, and the lonesomeness, all together, all at once. 

Addendum;

• Author’s note: After leaving Wheeler Peak, we crossed into Utah, and were once again on Route 50. For 78 miles there was nothing, and the terrain was more bleak (more desert) than in Nevada. I wonder if the reporter for Life Magazine never made that part of the drive.
• This trip was the first part of our trip with our new camper van, driving 3,000 miles across America from California to Virginia. If you want to read about why and how we bought the van, you can do so here: https://maxnhall.com/2025/09/01/we-did-a-thing/