The Loneliest Road

I confess I was slightly surprised to see “The Love Ranch” advertising itself in the first few miles of the much hyped loneliest road in America, which is  US Highway 50 across Nevada. But I suppose bordellos and loneliness do go hand in hand so to speak.

Our plan was to drive from Carson City (home to Trader Joe’s Costco etc…for supplies) to Moab the off-road capital of Utah. Let me be clear: I haven’t been to Moab in forty years and we have no interest in off roading the van, or of trying cross country mountain biking, or driving all terrain quads, but it’s one of those towns that comes up in van life conversation is Moab. Like Sedona for New Age stuff and Santa Cruz for surfing, Moab attracts outdoorsy types in off road vehicles. 

As I write this we’ve only just got started so I’m speculating but I’m pretty sure calling this the loneliest road in America is pure marketing. Still, I have read about it over the years and yes advertising works so here we are. 

Ten counties share the 18 legal brothels in Nevada which counties include Churchill which is east of Carson City (where whorehouses are illegal). According to those who study these things illegal prostitution makes a ton more money than the legal version. There;  that’s out of the way so now some hidden caves, the less salacious but more interesting side of Nevada. 

The four lane leaving Nevada’s capital goes down to two eventually when the commuters have all peeled off and at one point there’s a brown sign pointing to a geological site down a dirt road. 

It’s called Hidden Cave where people lived they say 21,000 years ago. We spent Monday night there arriving before dark in 95  degrees.  There was a breeze but we did use the a/c to cool down before the sun went down. 

Layne got the hummus and mezcal out and we sat, resplendent and alone outside Fallon with the lights of the Naval Air Station in the distance.  It was lovely. 

We were alone and this what I had been craving when I took a plane to Italy to see my sisters. I know Italy is a desirable destination and I see happy travelers on Facebook having the time of their lives in Europe. But me? This is heaven to me, wide open public land in America, the like of which exists nowhere else. 

In my van with my family alone in the wilderness. You keep Venice I’m happy here: 

I find life on the road very fulfilling as odd as that may sound. I know many retirees who dread quitting work and often seek out the affirmation of retirement employment. Sometimes the notion is not simply of sitting on the shelf but also of not doing good or contributing. I suffer from none of that. 

Webb Chiles has a philosophy I like which says roughly that yo fond of us falls the task of going beyond the edge of human experience and sending back reports. That sounded a bit beyond me at first but I rationalized it by figuring the edge of my human experience isn’t necessarily that of a world class sailor or an astronaut or a captain of industry. I’m me and my retirement is mine to report back from. 

Look at these red rocks and the blue sky and lovely is your land. The Bureau of Land Management describes the millions of acres it manages as “land of many uses” so renting it to ranchers and selling logging and mineral rights are decided part of it much to the chagrin of recreational campers. But we have tons of land left to enjoy and you won’t find this anywhere else in the world. My US passport gets me unlimited access until I’m bed-bound. Pretty cool. 

Some areas are limited to designated camp sites in limited areas or campgrounds but much of it is wide open if you follow a dirt road and find a spot without breaking new ground. Leave no trace and stay no more than 14 days, free and with no paperwork. Then move at least 25 miles and start again on BLM or US Forest Service land. Pretty amazing eh? 

We found the parking lot for the Hidden Cave and decided to spend the  night. We had a pit toilet, a trash can and a picnic table and not a sound all night. 

The main cave is closed and can be visited by appointment but there are cracks in the rocks all over the place. Apparently the flat lands in front of the hills with the caves was a lake 21,000 years ago which made life possible in this arid spot. 

Rusty and I climbed the hill toward the main cave but by 9am it was hot already and Rusty wasn’t following my Gung-Ho can do attitude. We turned back. 

I think one of the aspects I enjoy is how we can bring our fully formed home into the wilderness. Clearly our heavy van isn’t an off road performer but GANNET2 takes us as far as we want to go. And in taking us we have a proper home. 

We have the facilities inside you’d find in a suburban home and we enjoy them. It is our home and we don’t have to cook outside or crouch inside and with excellent insulation we have s space we can enjoy in high heat or heavy rain.  And we did that: on arrival it was 94 degrees so we ran the a/c off the batteries until the desert night temperature took over when we sat outside with our appetizers and Mescal and watched darkness envelope us. In the distance we could see headlights occasionally in the highway but we heard no sounds. 

Jets and helicopters from the naval air station flew around a bit but they didn’t bother us. We enjoyed a slow start as there was no point in arriving early and we planned a four hour drive on Google maps. I drank tea and we exercised and Layne cooked before it hot hot and I took a cold shower with the sink faucet and eventually we loaded up and drove off. Van life is just doing chores slowly and enjoying it. No hotels, no concierges, restaurants if we feel

like it and all of it with plans stamped in Jello. It’s the retirement I never knew I wanted.