It is a lonely road.
A series of north south ranges interrupting long flat stretches of an otherwise great desert basin.
Drove as far as Cold Springs Station, a stop on the Pony Express Route. An ambitions endeavor, it delivered the mail 2,000 miles from St Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento, California in just 10 days. It only ran for 18 months before the telegraph lines were completed, making it instantly obsolete, but forever a part of American lore.
We could take interstate highways to get where we want to go. But we like Highway 50 across Nevada, billed as “The Loneliest Road in America”. We like it so much we decided to get on Highway 50 at our first opportunity at Salina in the middle of Utah and follow it all the way to the other side of Nevada. So today we traveled a backroad on our way to the backroad.
Along the way, we stopped by Great Basin National Park in Nevada. Been meaning to do this for maybe 20 years. It was a good idea to check it out. This place is glorious!
We didn’t stay and camp here. Too cold at night for us at 10,000 feet with no hookups. But if we had stayed, this would have been our campsite.
From the highest viewpoint, it looked like this.
We stopped for the night in Ely.
Driving west from Green River, Utah. A hundred miles of desolation. No food. No water. No fuel. No nothing. Except scenery. This was always a highlight of our spring break trips with the kids. If we were heading west, first night at Green River State Park, and the next morning off across the Badlands, stopping at every viewpoint along the way. The San Rafael Swell, an ancient uplift creating and exposing geological wonders.
Ensconced for the night at a wonderful KOA in Fillmore, Utah. Quiet. Private. Shady. Grassy.
from Colorado through the rich red rock formations of Utah.
The welcome soft green grass and shade of Green River State Park for the night.
A late start. A short day. Another state.
Cortez. Southwestern Colorado for the night.
This used to be a KOA. Fifteen or twenty years ago we stayed here so often, we would be greeted like family when we drove in. Mom, Dad, and two sons running the place. We’d announce “It’s good to be home.”
That was then. The family we enjoyed so much sold it and moved on. It’s no longer a KOA. It’s no longer tip-top. It’s still in a beautiful setting though.
