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Today’s American Treasure – The Loneliest Road in America, Part 1

In July 1986, Life magazine described Nevada’s Highway 50 as the “Loneliest Road in America” and warned that drivers should have “survival skills” if they planned to travel that route. Although the magazine described a desolate landscape with few towns over the course of 300 miles, Nevadans knew better and decided to use the publicity as a marketing tool. After all, isn’t a classic road trip all about wide open spaces, a spirit of adventure, and at least a small element of danger?

Alameda Post - a photo of several brochures for Nevada and Highway 50, and a photo of a map of the highways in Nevada
Left: Brochures picked up along the way acted as guides and inspiration to explore this uncrowded, rugged and historic area. Photo Steve Gorman. Right: Highway 50, the “Loneliest Road in America,” appears across the middle of the state in this map from Nevada Magazine and Visitor Guide. The state has promoted itself as a great road trip destination by branding its major roads with evocative themes such as, “The Loneliest Road,” “The Extraterrestrial Highway,” “The Great Basin Highway,” “The Burner Byway,” “The Cowboy Corridor,” and so on. Map Nevada Division of Tourism.

The old Lincoln Highway

U.S. Route 50 is actually a transcontinental route, stretching 3,019 miles from West Sacramento, California, to Ocean City, Maryland. The road was created in 1926 as part of the original U. S. Highway system, and in parts traces the route of the even older Lincoln Highway—one of the first transcontinental automobile roads, dedicated in 1913. And although the western half of the road is characterized by mostly rural desert and mountain territory, it was only the Nevada section that was so extreme as to earn the “Loneliest Road” moniker.

Alameda Post - a man in hiking gear stands on tree roots next to a tree at the edge of Donner Lake
The author at Donner Lake, contemplating the natural and human history of this place, which played such a big role in the emigration of settlers to California as they made their way over Donner Pass from the east. One unlucky group, the Donner Party, got a late start on their journey and ended up marooned here during the bitter winter of 1846-47. Photo Edie O’Hara.

Desperate passage

My wife Edie and I started our journey at the site of another struggle with desolation and survival, Donner Memorial State Park, near Truckee, California. It was there during the winter of 1846-47 that the Donner Party, a group of emigrants from the Midwest, were snowed in for the season and had to endure an epic struggle to survive. Of the 87 people who entered the mountains that winter, only 48 survived. But now, 177 years later, campers arrive on good roads, and camp in comfort near the site of cabins that once housed desperate refugees trying to find a better life in California. Today it is a place to enjoy recreation on beautiful Donner Lake (formerly known as Truckee Lake), and learn all about the natural and human history of this place.



Alameda Post - a woman stands in the middle of a road in a desert-like landscape with mountains in the background
Just outside of Fallon, Nevada, Sand Mountain appears at the end of this road. From the Bureau of Land Management site: “Created by the migration and deposition of windblown sand as it is stopped by the rising Stillwater Mountains bordering to the north, east, and west, the most dominant feature of the dune system is Sand Mountain, which is approximately 3.5 miles long, 1-mile wide, and 600 feet in height, making it the largest single dune in the Great Basin. Photo Steve Gorman.

Onward to Highway 50

Although we enjoyed our overnight stay at beautiful and historic Donner Lake, we were not yet on Highway 50, and as we crossed the Nevada border on Interstate 80 the next day, our sights were set firmly on Fallon, where we’d finally be on Highway 50 proper, and the real adventure would begin. At Fallon, Nevada, Highway 50 has already stretched for almost 200 miles from Sacramento, California, but the truly spectacular desolation has not yet begun. East of Fallon, though, the scenery and distance between towns changes dramatically. Suddenly, you are no longer in the more populated part of the state surrounding Lake Tahoe, Reno, and Carson City, and are instead entering the region of the state where the number of people per square mile is usually zero. Coming from the crowded Bay Area, Edie and I love the feeling that these wide-open, uncrowded, and untouched natural areas impart on us.

Alameda Post - Highway 50 stretches into the distance with a picturesque mountain range and fluffy clouds
A view of Highway 50 looking east. The road gets little traffic, and is characterized by numerous open valleys (basins) followed by mountain passes (ranges) in a repeating pattern known as “basin and range” country. The average number of people-per-square-mile over most of this route is 0, and towns are few and far between. Photo Steve Gorman.

Basin and Range country

Much of the state of Nevada is characterized by “Basin and Range” topography, a vast landscape of dramatic changes in elevation, alternating between narrow mountain ranges and flat arid valleys, or basins. Heading east from Fallon, the long, straight road ahead beckoned. No stop signs, traffic lights, or traffic of any kind impeded our progress, as one long valley led to another, one mountain pass led to another, and so on. Now, if one had to do this drive every week, I imagine it could become monotonous, but for us, with the music playing and the miles going by, it had more of a feeling of being a retreat from the busy world we usually inhabit. Plus, there are all kinds of unique and interesting stops along this road, the first of which we had somehow missed when we traveled this way four years ago on our way to Utah. This particular stop features more shoes in one place than you’ll ever see outside of a major shoe store.

Alameda Post - many pairs of shoes dangle from the branches of a tree
Among the many interesting and unusual sights along Highway 50 is the “Shoe Tree,” a pilgrimage site near the old Pony Express station Middlegate, where visitors throw shoes up into the branches. In this view, just one branch is shown, with the beautiful sagebrush landscape that surrounds the area in the background. The legend about how the shoe tree got started is featured in this article. Photo Steve Gorman.

The Shoe Tree

This point of interest doesn’t appear on every map, and there’s not a sign marking its location, but there is a pull-off that drivers can look for near the old Middlegate Station, once a stop on the Pony Express. One of those classic, odd, Americana-type roadside stops, the shoe tree is a place where people have been coming to tie their old shoes together and throw them up into the tree for years. While the original shoe tree fell in 2011, the tradition has continued on another tree in the same small grove. The website Atlas Obscura recounts the story of the shoe tree:

“It happened like this: on a warm desert night, a newlywed couple camping beneath the large cottonwood got into an argument. The woman threatened to walk away. ‘If you do,’ growled the man, ‘you’ll have to walk barefoot.’ He then proceeded to throw her shoes up into the tree and drive off to a nearby bar, where the bartender, an upstanding citizen if ever there was one, convinced him to return to his wife. He drove back to the cottonwood tree—needless to say, his wife was still there—and the couple managed to reconcile and live happily ever after. They returned several years later with their first child to throw his shoes up into the tree under which they had fought and reunited. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Whether that story is 100% true or not is beside the point of a roadside oddity like this. The point is that it exists, that people still make pilgrimages here to throw their shoes up, and that it’s created stories and legends around itself. And that’s enough for a good roadside attraction.

Alameda Post - a stone castle
Far from any town or Interstate highway is the old mining town of Austin, Nevada. Stokes Castle, pictured here, was completed in 1897 by mining and railroad magnate Anson Stokes, and has been abandoned for generations. Photo Steve Gorman.

Stokes Castle

111 miles after leaving Fallon, we arrived in our first town on Highway 50, the old mining town of Austin. Settled in 1862, Austin was once known as the “Mother of Mining Camps,” as silver was mined in the nearby hills and the population boomed to over 10,000. Today, the population is down to just 12, according to the World Population Review website. As silver and gold mining continued to dwindle over the years, the population steadily declined, leading to its current status as a “living ghost town”.

Driving up a short but steep dirt road just after arriving in town, we made our way up to an historic attraction we had missed on our first trip out this way in 2020, the Stokes Castle. As we pulled up to the three-story stone tower completed in 1897 by mining and railroad magnate Anson Phelps Stokes, I was so glad we were taking our time on this trip, and not missing places like this. Stokes built the castle as a summer house for his family, and modeled it after a tower he had seen in the Roman Campagna region of Italy. It was built from hand-hewn native granite, and had a fireplace and balcony on each floor, along with a rooftop deck. The Stokes family ended up using the castle for only a short time before Anson Stokes sold his mine, mining equipment, and castle in late 1898. It has been unoccupied since then, and today is owned by the Austin Historical Society. An enduring theme on this trip across Highway 50 is how much of an effect the rise and fall of gold, silver, and copper mining has had on the entire region.

Alameda Post - a map of Highway 50 across Nevada
A sign along Highway 50 features a map showing the route as it makes its way across the entire state, from Lake Tahoe all the way east to the Utah border. In the 324 miles from Fallon to Baker, there are only a few small towns. Photo Steve Gorman.

Invasion of the crickets

There are things that you plan for on a trip, and things you don’t. An invasion of Mormon crickets is something I wasn’t expecting on this trip, but as we noticed our first few of these large, reddish-brown crickets up at Stokes Castle, we had no idea that it was just the beginning. I tend to do a lot of research before heading out on a trip, but I must admit, I had no idea that Nevada regularly experiences infestations of these insects that can cover up to 10 million acres across the northern areas of the state, and they’ve even caused multiple car accidents due to their presence on the roads.

Alameda Post - old carvings on a large stone wall
“While this free recreation site was named after local rancher John Hickerson (we’re not quite sure how the spelling changed), the history here dates thousands upon thousands of years before him, back to the Western Shoshone who lived and hunted in this area an estimated 10,000 years ago. During this time, the massive basins and valleys in the region, like Big Smoky and Monitor Valleys, were filled with water and marshy habitats that drew all kinds of wildlife. The Western Shoshone people used these wetland habitats as a life source, and moved throughout the region with the seasons.” Image and text from Travelnevada.com.
Alameda Post - a full moon
The moon rises over our quiet and remote campsite off Highway 50, where there is a free campground at Hickison Petroglyph Recreation area, a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) site. The ancient petroglyph carvings on the rocks here are up to 10,000 years old, which certainly gives one a sense of perspective in terms of how long humans have been active in this area. Photo Steve Gorman.

Next up

When our adventures on America’s Loneliest Road continue, we’ll endure a cricket infestation, camp among petroglyphs carved by Native Americans up to 10,000 years ago, explore the old mining town of Eureka, ride the rails of the historic Nevada Northern Railway in Ely, and attempt to summit 13,167-foot Wheeler Peak, something we failed at last time (and we’re back for another try this time). All of that and more, as the journey on Highway 50 turns out to be not so lonely after all, at least if you count insects.

Contributing writer Steve Gorman has been a resident of Alameda since 2000, when he fell in love with the history and architecture of this unique town. Contact him via [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Steve-Gorman.

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