The Windmill Posts

Welcome to Nevada

The hills are a little bit sharper or more defined and the trees or bushes are tall fir trees. So, it’s almost forest-like but not quite. It’s still hills. The landscape changes completely. Instantly, it feels like. More mountains, different colors. Or maybe it’s just the time change playing tricks on my mind. The sign says “Welcome to Nevada. The Silver State.” And then right underneath it, it says “The Loneliest Road in America.” Can’t wait to drive it!

Just past the Utah/Nevada border , there is a little place called the Border Inn Casino. Gas station, casino, and little general store type place. Slot machines as soon as you walk in – welcome to Nevada!

I got gas, that’s great. I go inside to get a nice cold Coke or something like it. I was so looking forward to a super cold beverage.

Inside, there was a sign that said “freezer’s broken down, nothing’s cold, take what you want.” I took that as free warm freezer goods for all. But I took a Dr. Pepper and she charged me for it. So that was weird. Being the only gas in forever, I’m sure she rakes in the cash, but that was my donation.

It was definitely one of those strange desert locations that you see in movies. The doors didn’t quite work. On the outside, the windows and door and covered in mirror to reflect the sun. But it looked weird when you’re going in.

Along with my warm Dr. Pepper, I got a chocolate crunch bar. When I got to my car, I sat down and I ate it immediately because it was going to liquidate within minutes. I had a Butterfinger in the cooking bin that I was constantly craving. But I’m going to need a freezer, it’s melted and unmelted half a dozen times.

Passed a sign for low flying aircraft. Crop dusters, I assume. I’m looking for airplanes, but I probably wouldn’t see it until the last second. (Foreshadowing!)

There are salt flats here and there, some larger than others. On the map it’s a lake, but out here it’s shining white salt. Very pretty! And it’s got little dust tornadoes going on it.

The Nevada desert is just basin and range, basin and range, over and over.
You climb a mountain, you drive across a flat plain, you climb another mountain.
It’s rhythmic.

A typical pass starts by starting to climb a bit. The sagebrush gets a little thicker, and the temperature drops just a fraction as you get higher. Still hot though. Went over Sacramento Pass, Elev. 7,154 feet. The view looking back down into the valley is incredible. Just vast, empty space. And then you’re down in another massive flat.

Pulled off the main highway onto a smaller, narrower back road. The traffic dropped to absolute zero instantly. Just me, the car, and the open desert plain. The road begins to wind and climb sharply as I approach a mountain pass. The drop-offs on the right side are incredible, looking straight down into the desert floor below. From the top I can see the destination town shimmering on the horizon now through the heat haze. Still a ways off, but it’s good to see signs of a checkpoint coming into view.

Finally made it to Ely. Pulling into town now. An old mining town, lots of character. Ready to stretch my legs and get out of the sun for a bit.

Health

I’m staying hydrated, or at least trying to. Water instead of pop (ice cold Coke trumps hot water from the car.) Although I keep getting this weird feeling in my mouth, and it’s not like dry mouth. It feels like it’s folding in on itself. When I get that weird feeling, I take a drink of water, even a small drink will take care of it. That usually reminds me to drink another bottle of water. And after a long day of going over mountains, one good guzzle out of a water bottle and your ears pop. So, double duty!

Now, sun. So, I think I’m okay. No headaches, sweating just fine. As for sunburn, my knees are moving past the burn and going tan nicely. My arms are turning into these beautiful “I live in Palm Springs” golden brown kinda thing. Unfortunately, they also have the wrinkles of Hume Cronyn Cronyn and all of the old people in the movie Cocoon.pre-Cocoon. I spray up often, knees and legs, arms and hands, neck and back. My UV hat seems to work, no burn or anything on top of my head. I do feel like I’m basting myself when I apply sunscreen.

Found my ring! It was in the tomorrow bag. I guess I just had to wait until the next day. Still no sign of my clip magnet.

I was recently checked out and my lungs got an A1 rating from my GP. I haven’t had much in the way of breathing difficulties, but I feel it now and again. Just a bit thin, out of breath a bit sooner. We’ll see what Yosemite brings. That could be a completely different story.

Oh, the phone changed time zones automatically but the car didn’t. So now I have two different times. This is going to confuse me for the rest of the day.

Scenery and Animals

“I’m always disappointed to see a house in the middle of a desert. I wanted it to be empty desolation.” Just passed another completely abandoned building. Looks like an old gas station from the fifties left out to rust and warp in the elements. I also passed an old, abandoned mining head-frame sitting out on a hillside. It looks completely weathered and rusted, a literal skeleton from the gold rush era just left behind.

The road is just tracking dead straight toward these mountains. It’s beautiful but hypnotic. I can see the mountains of Death Valley shimmering on the horizon through the heat haze. It looks incredibly vast and unforgiving from this distance.

Driving a convertible out here is amazing, but the wind noise is intense. Pulled off to the side for a second just to check the map and stretch. The scale of this landscape is just hard to process when you’re moving through it. But when you’re stopped, the silence sneaks in and everything is amplified. Not just the quiet sounds of the desert, but the heat and the scenery.

Every once in a while there will be another windmill farm. These massive windmills off in the distance look like giant sentinels spinning slowly against the desert sky. It’s quite striking.

Saw a small herd of pronghorn antelope crossing the plain to my left. They move incredibly fast, even just at a casual trot. Also encountered a tiny lizard darting across the road. Sadly, I had to pick a sparrow or some other kind of bird out of my grill. I’d never hit a bird before, and was heartbroken when I didn’t see it clear the car.

Weather

It had been a partly cloudy and then just mostly cloudy day. Far over the mountains or between us and them, are these clouds that look like they could be rain clouds. But I didn’t see any rain coming out of the bottom. It would have been interesting to go through a a quick rain storm in the desert to be able to see if you smell petrichor or something completely different. Ideally not getting flooded and swooped away. I enjoy going through thunderstorms when I’m going over a pass. It gives it that extra spicy feeling.

The heat out here is intense. 85 degrees with sun can be horrifying. But 95 degrees without sun is just kind of hot. It surprised me the desert heat has less to do with temperature and more to do with the sun. It beats down so hard. It bounces right off the asphalt, creating that wavy distortion look on the road ahead.The car thermometer read a hundred and twelve degrees, and the wind feels like a giant hair dryer blowing straight into the cabin.

The wind picks up and shows its anger often. It howls past the windshield. I was worried I would have to put the top up if it got any wilder. I could see dust blowing across the road far ahead. Looked like that dust storm warning wasn’t kidding around. The wind would swirl and kick up columns of dust off the valley floor. They look like mini tornadoes dancing across the flats. It creates these massive columns of spinning dust that look like small tornadoes dancing across the desert. I’ll get to know those better in a bit.

Great Basin National Park

Great Basin National Park is renowned for having some of the darkest, clearest night skies in the contiguous United States. Earning a Gold-tier International Dark Sky Park designation, it offers naked-eye views of the Milky Way, galaxies, and over 6,000 stars, thanks to its high elevation, low humidity, and isolation from major cities.

I just didn’t have enough time there. Seeing the several ancient bristlecone pine groves took hours of hiking (to altitude no less) and the Lehman caves took more time than I had too. I did however, do the three loops at the Gray Cliffs. Checking out the camp sites, they were okay but nothing special. The darkness was a big draw for me, but since the campgrounds had been full when I was planning the trip, I wouldn’t be directly in the dark zone at Ward Mountain. From my research though, it sounded like I would be just on the edge, and would be able to get much of the benefit. For that adventure, read on below.

I was surprised at the number of national parks and monuments that didn’t take the passport or charge anything for entrance. I could have sworn Giant Basin had a price tag on it.

Ward Mountain Campground

Finding it

Before I left Ely, I stopped to fill the tank. (Half a tank is an empty tank!). I also got a car wash. I have a picture from the day I left home. I was having trouble with the tire valve covers and took a picture. The tire was so clean and shiny you could almost see your face in it. And now the poor girl is dusty like the surface of the moon. The car’s official color is “Moonwalk grey,” after all. It wasn’t just the dust. My windshield and the bodies, the endless bodies spread across it.

I had my phone’s GPS directing me as well as the car’s GPS. Usually the car is set to the end of day and the phone set to the next stop. But somehow I knew it was going to be a tricky location, so I thought I’d let them duke it out. They were actually in agreement, which is a scary sign. But the dot flew past and I couldn’t see the sign. So I pulled over to think about my next move.

I didn’t think it would be wise to do a three-point turn on the top of a pass where people are doing 70 miles an hour. ]So, of course, what I decided to do instead was a three-point turn on the top of a crossing where people are going 70 miles an hour, it was fine. Not that busy after all. Watching the dot and looking for the sign I found the road to the campground, simple cuts in the brush, not a lot of warning.

And my phantom people are all waiting in their vehicle. Apparently, they have a freaking car now.

Checking in

Running up the washboard road I pull up to the check-in bulletin board. The instructions were pretty straightforward. Take an envelope, put your money in it, and write your information on it. Then drop it in the box. Except they were out of envelopes. And writing instruments. And a drop box. To compound the issue I Reserved and paid online. I spent a lot of time reading it, trying to figure out just what the heck is going on. In the end, I found that it really wanted you to put your confirmation number from signing up on a piece of paper on your number at your campsite. Problem solved.

I had a site number but didn’t know which loop. I took loop A and the numbers were too high. Went to loop B and it started one below mine, and as I drove through, they went down. So where was my spot? Right at the end, totally out of order. Worked for me!

The site

The campground is at 7,400 feet, just a thousand feet higher, but I felt it. Putting up the tent felt like a hold-up. “Nobody move!” “Put your hands in the air” to catch your breath. I was feeling the altitude and would stop to take a break

The site itself was gravel, with a picnic table, fire pit, the usual components. There was a space on the ground that looked to be 15’x10′ and lined with 2x4s. Nt sure if it was fine gravel or actual rocks. I had a suspicion there might be actual dirt or sand underneath. This was the pad for the tent. I took out a stake and found out that it goes into the ground with the mallet quite easily. I’d never set up on rocks before! It was a nice site, bushes and trees keeping it private but not claustrophobic.

The campground wasn’t too crowded, but there were a few sites taken. But all I heard was a pickup once, and nothing from any neighbors. Actually, I haven’t been to a single campsite or hotel where I couldn’t hear almost constant vehicle noise. It was almost like everyone was hiding from each other. So, so quiet – it was wonderful! Well worth the $12. Nobody was having campfires – I can’t remember what the fire status was, but I’m pretty sure it was red. One of the positives of not having fires around is that you don’t have the campfire smell in your clothes. Which was good because I didn’t really want to roll into the hotels smelling like summer camp.

That night I heard owls hooting and coyotes howling. Perfect

I wish I had more pictures of the campground and site. Over time, they all tend to blend together. They were all unique and interesting campgrounds in their own way, though.

The darkness

“Stars so bright, you can see the lines between them for the constellations”

I went to see the stars tonight. It was a challenge staying up. Not so much a challenge being awake that late, but finding things to do. It allowed me to catch up on writing, working on the blog, and sorting out some pictures. At some point, I got the time zones confused, or rather my laptop did. I thought it was 10:30 and I got excited, ready to think about going and then I looked and it was actually 9:30.

I was going to these beehive-shaped charcoal ovens from late 1800’s. The rangers at Great Basin had recommended them, as they never close and they’re remote enough to enjoy the darkness. Unfortunately, stars come out at night, which means night driving. I’m not that thrilled about driving at night because the headlights are so bright. I have some special sunglasses that help cut the brightness and white light. I was curious about doing the twisties down the hill through the pass. Speed limit 70 means traffic is really cruising, but since it was somewhat late, traffic was light. Going down the hill, these trucks are going up the hill with halogen bright super lights.
When they’re blinding you, I do what I do in the snow, and that’s look at one of the lines on the road, and you just follow that explicitly until it’s clear.

Looking at the map, there are three locations with these beehive ovens and I’m not sure which one to target. Luckily I picked the right now, and a mile or two of washboard road and I was there.

I pull in, trying to be cool by just running with my fog lights. Got my red light headlamp on to keep night vision. And then when I turn the car off and open the door I get the standard dinging and lights going on and all sorts of non-coolness. Fumbled it all off and started over. I grabbed my blanket and headed out. I think there may have been a fee box but I couldn’t find it. I didn’t guess they would be towing at midnight.

The charcoal cookers, kilns, were beehive shaped and something like 40 feet tall. Walking into the first one, the bugs were really bad. But they weren’t landing on me. And they seemed too big. That was when I figured out they were bats. Hundreds of bats. I didn’t get past the entrance and didn’t go into any of the other ovens. Crazy!

I took my blanket and I went to all the way down to the end of the path and I laid it down. I laid down and I looked at the stars. They were bright. I could see airplanes very, very high up. I couldn’t see any satellites as far as I knew. But it was very pretty. Though I might feel like I was a little underwhelmed.

The people in the parking lot finally came down the path to see the ovens. They have a nice bright flashlight, and when they shone it down the path, it caught me. An old man laying on a blanket at the end of the path. I would have found that creepy. I immediately popped up and rolled up my blanket and decided I’d had plenty of stars. By the time I got back to the parking lot, they were long gone. Oops.

Heading out

Hopping in the car, I check my travel software. First, I take the final destination for the day and send it to the car via app. Then I set the phone GPS to the next destination. This is often a coffee shop. This system lets me know how my end of day ETA is shaping up as well as my next stop.

The sky was completely clear and I was well rested for another day of adventure!

On the road

Traffic has not been that bad. I haven’t really seen any trucks except at Ward Pass. There is light cars traffic. And then of course, you’re seeing a ton of pick up trucks. They’re all white, all of them have logos, they’re all different logos. You have no idea if they’re law enforcement or BLM or somebody’s gardening company.

I stopped at McDonald’s to get coffee and juice and a biscuit. The lady made a lot of great comments about my car. We chatted a little bit and that was awesome. I haven’t had a lot of interpersonal connection this trip.

I didn’t have a freezer or a cooler, but I felt like buying a bag of ice. For one thing, wrap my phone in it so it doesn’t overheat. I was having a real problem with a black phone mounted on the dash in the hot sun, charging most of the time. These all add up to the phone overheating every few hours.

Just crossed another cattle guard. I think that’s the third one in the last twenty miles. Keeps you awake, if nothing else. There is nothing like taking a cattle guard at 70 miles an hour.

The navigation just updated and it tells me that my destination has moved. It does this once in a blue moon. What does that mean? Did the city move? Did the destination move? Or did I just get the wrong address in the first place? Let’s hope it’s the last one.

Pulled over

I’m cruising down one of the straight stretches and see flashing red and blue lights, and another vehicle. The closer I get I realize the police or whomever are in the middle of the road. I start to wonder what is going on because it didn’t seem normal. I slow down and eventually come to a stop. I’m thinking if there’s a gunfight I don’t want to be right there to enjoy it. One of the two cop cars comes up the highway at me, slows down and says “I’m going to need you to pull fully off the road. Oversize load.”

I’m in a MINI Cooper. What part of oversize can you interpret from my size? Sure I have camping stuff etc. but nothing it sticking out. When I look back to see if he’s turning around to come give me a ticket for being oversized, I see he didn’t turn around. He’s going on and apparently doing the same thing to everyone. Clearly it’s a sting. They’re pulling everyone over for oversize loads and then looking for drugs?

And then I saw more lights down the road – yellow this time – and a large orange object. It was a truck pulling a massive trailer. It said “oversize load” and I felt like an idiot. The lady in the car in front of me was out of her car ready to take pictures, so I got out to apply another layer of basting butter, er, sunscreen. I miss the photo of the oversized thing, but it was just a big gray box.

Once it passed, we all hopped in our cars like the race flag had shown up again, and we were off!

Going to California

Stayed in a hotel in Reno last night and it was exactly what I needed. A couple of nice showers, air conditioning, nearby fast food, and the sounds of the (small) city.

The transition from Nevada to California is pretty severe. The hills are a little bit sharper or more defined and the trees or bushes are tall fir trees. So, it’s almost forest-like but not quite. It’s still hills. But we’re in the westernmost state of the trip!

If you can believe it, the next pass through Nevada will be much more exciting!