Day 2 of US Road Trip: Ely, Nevada
We stayed at the Victorian Truckee Hotel. We went to bed past midnight. Dawn came up through the white lacy curtains way sooner than my body wanted it to. While Jay and our little one slept in, I walked my dog around Truckee. I enjoyed watching the town set up for their 4th of July parade against the backdrop of the snowcapped Sierra Nevada mountains.
After Jay and our little one got up, we watched a little bit of the parade, then went on our way taking Route 80 across the California state line into Nevada, where we switched to Route 50, the loneliest highway in America.
I drove through salt flats, people’s names spelled out in rocks across the desert, sand mountains, rocky mountains and sage brush for almost 7 hours. We broke it up with some stops. I almost drove right past The Shoe Tree. I saw some people on the side of the road, and it was a few feet before Jay told me about the shoes in the tree. We were the only car on the road, though, so I turned right around and stopped to gawk at this monument to mischief.
We stopped for some ice cream at the old wild west town of Austin. We stopped to get blown away by Native American Petroglyphs. Walking up the trail, Jay warned, “Watch out for rattlesnakes!”
On the road again, a storm brewed in the distance. Rain splattered against my windshield in bursts. Miles ahead a rainbow led us to our destination for the day, the old wild west town of Ely.
Rainbow on Route 50 Nevada
Originally uploaded by maylingsu
I called my dad as soon as we settled into our motel. I wanted to thank him for lending us his GPS. There have been times on the road when I was really glad to have it. All the other times, we just turned the droid off. I still have the memory of the bittersweet smiles my parents had as we pulled away from their house. It gives my heart a little pinch everytime I say goodbye to them, but go I must.
Out in the desert on this lonely highway, I suddenly understood why many before me came out here. This overabundance of nature, this feeling of smallness against the vast expanse, humbles me. I am not worthy of all this beauty, and because I am not worthy of it, I am filled with an overwhelming gratitude for it. I think that somewhat captures how I feel, but not fully. Onward I will try to find clarity.
We had dinner at Hotel Nevada, which felt as wild west as a place can feel in the 21st century. There were taxidermy beasts everywhere – enough stuffed mammals to put a chill in me. In the bathroom, another relic from the past: ashtrays in the bathroom.
The Deserest Motel was no way as nice as Truckee Hotel. The walls are lined with wood paneling and I found cigarette holes on everything from the carpet to the blankets. But it was a place to lay our exhausted bodies for the night before we went on the road again tomorrow.
