Detour #58: Route 50, The Loneliest Road, Nevada, USA
There are really only three elements to the movie Vanishing Point: the driver, the road, the car. Large chunks of this classic road movie were filmed on Nevada’s Route 50 – dubbed “The Loneliest Road in America” by Life magazine back in 1986.
It’s a near-300-mile stretch with virtually no signs of civilisation. There are just three small towns on the route: Austin, Eureka, and Ely. The vast, empty distances between them are truly humbling. And the focus is laser sharp: driver, road, car.
Fallon is where the Loneliest Road truly begins. I get a foretaste of what is to come as you survey scrubland that runs to the foothills and mountains beyond. Navigating a cut through the first mountain range of the journey, you emerge to a stunning sight—amid the muddy-coloured brown and grey hills, Sand Mountain rises incongruously. Its golden dunes sweep and dip gracefully as though deliberately crafted by the hot Nevada winds. Two miles long and 600 feet tall, it was formed by the dry lakebed of Lake Lahontan, which dried up about 9,000 years ago.
The faded wooden saloon and restaurant that constitutes Middlegate appears much as it would have 100 years ago – it originally served as a stop for the Pony Express in the 1800s, and today, it has the only fuel you’ll find for 50 miles in either direction. A plaque on the door announces “Middlegate: the middle of nowhere. Elevation 4,600 feet. Population now 17 (was 18).” Tough place.
I navigate through mountain ranges and emerge onto vast plains, sometimes highlighted with massive dry riverbeds, other times bookended with mountains that look like they’ve been silk-screened in various shades as they march away.
It’s as though the windshield has become my own personal movie theatre and all I have to do to keep the next amazing scene coming is drive on.
Nevada’s tourism department has long made a virtue out of what was originally an insult, touting the “Loneliest Road in America” as a unique destination for tourists. It’s a campaign that has worked—because of the vast distances and lack of services, you can indeed find yourself properly alone on Route 50, but if you wait 10 or 15 minutes, you’re likely to encounter a passing vehicle. Especially during summer vacation months.
Towards the end of the journey, I ascend the Wheeler Peak in the Great Basin National Park, affording an incredible view over the landscape. I stop and climb out of the car, the only sound the crunch of gravel underfoot. I look west and the road vanishes. I look east and yes, the road vanishes.
Is it possible to feel any more alone than I do at that moment?
Words Gavin Conway Twitter | Instagram
Photography Cody Pulliam / Anubhav Saxena / Jakub Gorajek / Luo Lei / Unsplash
