Highway 50 in Nevada - Loneliness Done Right | USA

📅 Jan 2020 | 🗺️ Highway 50, Nevada

Highway 50 cuts 300 miles across Nevada, a ribbon of asphalt through desert basins and mountain passes. It stretches from Carson City to the Utah border, with long empty horizons broken by mining towns, sagebrush valleys, and the occasional wild horse. Driving it isn’t just a trip — it’s a test of solitude, stamina, and the beauty of wide‑open space.

Highway 50 has a reputation: America’s Loneliest Road.

It’s known for emptiness, for long miles without a single soul in sight, for the kind of drive where you suddenly realize how big this country is. This wasn’t a sightseeing frenzy. It was a road trip that let us slow down.

Wide-open stretches. Snowy peaks standing over us. Wild horses and burros grazing like they owned the place (they do). Small towns with big personality and even bigger kindness.

Highway 50 lived up to its name — wonderfully so. Here’s our journey…

📚Journal Spill

Great Basin Brewing – Our Ritual Start

Before any lonely miles, we stopped at Great Basin Brewing — our Reno tradition. Fuel for the adventure:

• Mac & cheese (cheese-to-pasta ratio: perfect)

• Steve’s “ICKY” IPA — bold, like Nevada in a glass

• My honey-birch root beer — sweet, herbal, a little nostalgic

Ritual complete → take the road.

Reno – River Glow & Night Lights

Before we hit true solitude, we lingered in Reno.

We walked the Truckee River, letting our shoes find the edge of the water while kayakers passed by in bright colors. The river sparkled under the late sun, and the city hummed quietly around it.

We stopped for our Reno Arch selfie — a tradition that always feels cheesy and completely necessary. Especially at night when it lights up the street like you’re stepping into a show.

Carson City – A Short Stroll Through History

Carson City gave us a quick but meaningful pause. The city wasn’t flashy – and that’s what we loved.

We wandered the historic district, ducked into the Chamber of Commerce to look at vintage photos, and tried to imagine the daily life that shaped Nevada’s capital.

We promised our future selves:

✔ Carson Hot Springs

✔ Nevada State Museum

✔ More time

Road trips are for planning the next one.

Dayton – Roadside Oddities

Dayton surprised us in the best ways.

First: a giant yard spider sculpture that demanded a picture.

Then: an old railcar and interpretive signs that dropped us right into the dusty days of the Pony Express.

And tucked inside a neighborhood — The Republic of Molossia. A miniature independent nation with a customs booth, official signs, and a library.

We didn’t tour it (you need reservations), but even the drive-by left us smiling. Dayton isn’t trying to impress anyone — it’s just proudly weird.

Virginia City – The Wild West Still Breathing

The drive up was dramatic — hairpin turns, hills falling away beneath the tires.

Then suddenly: Virginia City — stuck in time in the best theatrical way. Actors, costumes, wooden sidewalks, saloons with doors that swing.

At the Welcome Center: popcorn to go.

In the alleys: cats guarding the secrets.

On the street: a staged shootout that startled us even though we saw the props.

And the horses. Oh, the horses.

They trotted right up to Steve, their noses lifting like TSA sniffing out contraband snacks. We laughed so hard we forgot to be scared.

At the edge of town: a view so wide it looked like the world had opened a door.

Fallon – Unexpected Characters

Fallon didn’t try to put on a show. That was the charm.

We dipped into Stillwater National Wildlife Refuge and walked the Foxtail Lake Boardwalk, just us and the wind in dry grass.

Then, a dog burst out of the cattails — full sprint, tongue out — and we startled, laughed, and instantly named him “Whoa.”

Alpacas spotted us from across a field and trotted over like we were late to a meeting. We stayed respectfully in the car — still made new friends.

We stayed at a quiet Holiday Inn with an all-night hot tub, which felt like a luxury in the middle of nowhere.

Grimes Point – Ancient Art & Air Shows

We stopped to read about ancient petroglyphs carved into volcanic rock.

As we were contemplating ancient civilizations… fighter jets thundered overhead in formation.

History below us. Power above us. And us in the middle — feeling very, very small.

Sand Mountain – Hoping for a Song

Sand Mountain is a single enormous dune — no explanation necessary or given.

We stood at the base and listened for the legendary “singing sand,” a low hum that sometimes drifts on the wind.

Nothing that day — just soft hiss of sand shifting under its own weight.

Still a moment worth tucking away. I was really hoping for a song though?!?

Fairview Peak – Where the Earth Cracked Open

We almost missed the dirt-road turnoff — so glad we didn’t.

A short dirt road led us to a 1947 earthquake fault split through the ground like nature leaving a written record.

The grasses waved gently. Not a soul around. We stood in the wind and tried to imagine the rumble.

Nowhere – A Place that Exists Because Someone Said So

A hand-painted sign that simply reads: Nowhere.

A small structure.

Open landscape that doesn’t need an explanation.

We took a picture, laughed, and moved on — feeling oddly satisfied. Sometimes the best place to be is exactly where nobody else is.

Middlegate – Monster Burgers & A Tree Full of Shoes

Middlegate had:

• cars decaying into elegant sculptures

• locals waving from golf carts

• an atmosphere of “stay awhile”

Inside the bar, the legend of the Monster Burger Challenge waited to test our bravery — but hunger did not align timewise. We’ll save that for a hungrier day.

Down the road stands the Shoe Tree — quirky and oddly beautiful. Shoes swinging like stories left behind. Odd, but perfect.

Cold Springs Station – Bites & Pony Express Echoes

Once a Pony Express lifeline — now a quiet roadside stop where the past feels unusually close. You can almost hear hooves if you listen long enough.

Snacks in hand, we let the desert stretch out in front of us, timeless.

Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Historic Park – Ghost Towns with Ocean Bones

The road to Berlin-Ichthyosaur isn’t exactly welcoming. Loose gravel, unpredictable potholes, and long stretches where the GPS hesitates...but this road trip built anticipation. We passed a few cars—wonder where everyone is coming from? The park?

Just off Highway 50, Nevada’s history folds back on itself here:

• The Berlin Ghost Town leaning into the wind

• Mine machinery rusting where workers left it decades ago

• A fenced cemetery with iron bars hinting at untold stories

• Ichthyosaur fossils — marine giants buried beneath what is now desert

The fossils sit quietly in the Fossil House, guarded by evergreens. We had to peer through the windows to see them (off-season quiet), but just a glimpse was enough.

Austin - And a Castle with Fences

We arrived as Austin was tucking in for the evening.

Stokes Castle held its ground behind a fence — tall stones, high views, and a sense that it was once much more than it is now.

We ate snacks at a picnic table and watched the sky shift into oranges and blues.

Spencer Hot Springs – Burros, Dips, and Decision

We brought towels and swimsuits — ready for a story. But sometimes the desert throws a curveball.

Burros had clearly declared ownership of one pool. The others were fully claimed by happy soakers.

We opted to stay dry, pet burros, and enjoy a sunset that didn’t rush.

Hickison – Quiet Trails & Watchful Eyes

Hickison gave us only a sliver of daylight, but that was enough.

We moved quick through the Hickison Petroglyph Recreation Area. The rock art, the shifting light, the sense that wildlife was quietly observing us — it all added a little thrill to the walk.

We respected the dusk and listened to the desert telling us it was time to head out. We didn’t finish the loop, but that felt okay. Sagebrush, juniper, pinyon pine—a triad of desert plants holding court as the wind started to pick up. The smell of the desert plants filled the air.

Eureka – A Hint of Hospitality at Sunset

We coasted into Eureka right as the sky shifted to pink. Their sign said “The Friendliest Town on the Highway,” and maybe it is—unfortunately, we were running out of daylight and we didn’t stick around long enough to test it.

The Opera House stood proud against the quiet street.

A couple of deer wandered the sidewalk like they had errands to finish before nightfall.

We smiled and kept rolling.

Garnet Hill - Rockhounding Under the Stars

We’d never been rockhounding before, and Garnet Hill Recreation Area welcomed us with complete darkness. Flashlights out, pockets ready to be filled with rocks, we started sorting through rocks searching for any glimmer of those wonderful garnets.

It started slow — lots of crouching, lots of “is this something? Then the internet gave us the secret: garnets hide in rocks.

Crack. Sparkle. Victory.

I found one right away—about 3 carats. We left with 20 garnets and a brand-new obsession.

Note to self: bring a rock hammer next time.

Ely - Cold Night, Warm Glow

We didn’t linger outside in Ely for long – it was cold. But we did pause at the Walk of Fame outside Hotel Nevada—a desert nod to Hollywood with stars in the sidewalk for notable folks who passed through.

Casino neon glowed against the freezing sky. We wandered, zipped our jackets tighter, and let the chill remind us we were fully alive in this moment.

Great Basin National Park - Snow, Stars, & Sky Islands

Bright and early, we arrived at Great Basin National Park, chasing passport stamps and stories. The visitor center gave us both—exhibits on local wildlife, Lehman Cave bats, and a spotlight on tiny pygmy rabbits that we instantly fell for. We didn’t spot one in the wild, but believing they were out there felt good enough.

We drove up the mountain slow, pulling off wherever the view demanded.

Sky Islands Forest Trail: Snow crunching under boots. Tall trees holding their breath.

Alpine Lakes Loop: Frozen mirrors reflecting jagged mountains.

Surreal. That’s the only word that fits. A top contender in our list of favorite national parks—and not just for the views, but the feeling that everything was exactly as it should be. We'll definitely return to this park someday.

Highway 50 Survival Guide & Stamp-Hunting

Before the wheels started rolling, we grabbed the Official Highway 50 Survival Guide— We collected stamps at stops along the way — a scavenger hunt for grown-ups.

Weeks later: pins in the mail. Proof that we crossed America’s Loneliest Road with joy.

🔚 Final Spin

Highway 50 looked lonely on the map, but it made us feel connected — to each other, to open space, to the stories hidden in every quiet corner.

This wasn’t a trip about filling time. It was a trip about making room for it.

We drove slowly. We laughed often. We stopped wherever curiosity told us to.

Nevada gave us big skies, quiet roads, and enough wonder to stretch across miles.

Lonely? Maybe for some. For us — it felt exactly right. We drove through spectacular desert scenery, packed garnets into our pockets, and just appreciated the chance we had to explore this historic highway.

🍬Echoes, Keepsakes, & Oddities

• Burros acting like they ran the place

• A hill that didn’t sing — but felt magical anyway

• Flashlight rockhounding that turned into success

• Painted Ichthyosaur standing proud and still

• Frozen lake reflections

• A pocket full of garnets and a heart full of quiet joy

  
  

🎞️ Tag & Snag

• 🦕 #IchthyosaurWindowPeep

• 💎 #6PoundsOfRockhoundHope

• 🐰 #PygmyRabbitWhereWereYou

• 🏰 #BurroPoopRuinsTheDip

• 🌲 #AlpineOasisFound