https://kentporter.info/index.htmlHot News!enen2025-05-24T09:14:54-07:00 hourly 1 2000-01-01T12:00+00:00 Sun, 25 May 2025 21:22:11 -0700The Loneliest Road2025-05-24T09:14:54-07:00https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/b768752c28f738db1162371fdb622605-4.html#unique-entry-id-4https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/b768752c28f738db1162371fdb622605-4.html#unique-entry-id-4I am back in Oakland and now have some time to finish my account of my trip since leaving Ely…

After day three, I headed to Hickison Petroglyph Recreation Area for my first overnight camping in the electric Mustang Mach E. I had read about the area, and since it was on the route I was backtracking along to Eureka and Austin, I thought that it would be a good opportunity to experience sleeping in the car.

When I arrived at the site, I chose a fairly level spot to park. The camping is free, so you can pick the site of your liking as long as no one else is occupying it. I proceeded to set up the foam pads and air mattress.







I had bought a delicious sandwich made to order by the deli in a big supermarket just to the west of Eureka—the only decent market that I encountered along The Loneliest Road—and I enjoyed my lunch at the campsite picnic table before exploring the park on its trails.

I started on my walk and soon discovered examples of the petroglyphs for which the recreation area is named. Scientists believe that the rock carvings were created about 10,000 years ago by the Western Shoshone who inhabited the region when it was filled with lakes leftover from the disappearance of the ocean.

With many of the carvings, I found it difficult to decipher what they were depicting. There were lots of pock marks and sweeping lines. But nothing familiar was jumping out at me.



In some cases, however, the lines looked like human fingers and may well have been.

I believe that this one was of a bear. If you look closely, you will see the ears, the eyes, then the protruding snout with the nose at the tip. Just above the bear may be a carving of a human face, with the head turned back, hair above the forehead, one eye visible, nose, lips, and chin. Maybe that is a look of pride, the hunter with prey below.


After the extensive look at the petroglyphs, I wandered up a trail with a fabulous bench at the top where I could sit and take in the view. I remained seated there for about forty-five minutes, thinking about the people who were in this area carving the rock, leaving their mark for future generations. Was that flat area below where an ancient receding lake used to be?


You can see a couple hiking up the same trail that I was coming down, with the campground below them:



My best laid plans to enjoy my night of restful sleep in the back of the Mustang Mach E were all for naught. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. absolutely freezing. I had foolishly left the windows slightly open to cope in case my occasional claustrophobia were to kick in.

I desperately needed to warm up, and decided shortly thereafter to "get the hell out of Dodge". I threw everything in the car and quietly left the campground. (Remember, it is an electric car, so I am reasonably certain that I did not disturb the other campers!).

I made my way back to Austin by 4 a.m. and began charging the car at a place (Champ's Chevron) where I had charged it once before.

Austin in the middle of the day is a pretty sleepy place. At 4:00 a.m., it feels like one has entered the Twilight Zone. It is completely desolate. No lights were on, and not a sound could be heard. It seemed almost as if it were fast becoming a true ghost town. That is most likely the fate that awaits Austin, because, except for Champ's Chevron Gas Station and Store, most things appear to be permanently closed already.

While waiting alone for the nearly depleted Mustang battery to charge, I prepared coffee on my tiny backpacking stove in the parking lot. At 5:25 a.m., when I was preparing a second cup, the woman who runs the service station store arrived to open it. She came rushing over to me concerned about the small flame she had seen from the stove I was using to make my drip coffee. I was set up about 100 feet away from four enormous propane tanks. After I reassured her that I was being extremely cautious about the flame, and that I was far enough away from those propane tanks, she returned to her duties.

I had planned to spend that night in Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park. However, after my experience the night before, I decided to ditch the idea of camping anymore. After the car was fully charged, I was off to Tonopah by 5:30 a.m..

I stayed that night at Tonapah's historic Mizpah Hotel, on the same floor where the "Lady in Red" was allegedly strangled by her former lover in the late 1800s. You can read about it here. Not to worry, I have no personal ghost stories to tell you.




Originally, I had planned to spend the following night at Benton Hot Springs just over the border in California, but, as I wrote above, I wasn't up for the camping that was a part of that plan. Instead, I decided to spend the night in Bishop on Highway 395, to pass through Benton again the next day and take a dip in the hot tub that I had reserved, to spend the following night in Bridgeport, and for the final night of my trip, to stay at the National Hotel in the gold rush town of Jackson.

That was all not to be. After exploring a few of the beautiful lakes that are part of the Eastern High Sierra, I went back to Benton and only sat in the hot tub for about 45 minutes. It was way too hot, and in spite of the fact that they advertised that there was a cold faucet at each hot tub, that was not the case at mine. So I started on my way on highway 120 to Bridgeport.

Convict Lake


Above Sabrina Lake


Sabrina Lake. Note how empty it is. Like most of the high mountain lakes that feed the Owens River down in the valley below, the water along the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada is completely owned and controlled by the City of Los Angeles. And the power generated by the stream outflow is controlled by Southern California Edison.


Rocky Creek Lake


In the Owens River Valley between Mammoth Springs and Benton. The sign says it all, "L.A. is the big boss":


While driving along the spectacular stretch of road that goes between Benton and Lee Vining near Mono Lake, I could periodically see a plume of smoke. I just assumed that it was some sort of controlled burn.

When I arrived back on highway 395 at Lee Vining, I discovered that there was a big wildfire and 395 was closed there. A big dump truck, some Cal Trans workers, and a highway patrolman were blocking the highway, with huge smoke and flames billowing seemingly just a few hundred feet away from them.

They told me that the road would be closed for an indefinite period of time. Meanwhile, lots of air tankers were dropping fire retardant over the still growing fire. The highway patrolman recommended an alternative route through Hawthorne, Nevada that would end up on the road just a mile or two north of the fire. That seemed like kind of a riverboat gamble to me: drive on a detour for almost three hours through another state only to discover that the raging fire had blocked your new route.

Because I wasn't sure that I would be able to recharge the car on the long distance route that was suggested going back through Hawthorne, I decided that reason should prevail. I would need to drive all of the way to Bakersfield, spending the night along the way at Lone Pine. No mountain passes over the Sierra were open, except those beyond the fire zone on 395.

The following day, I headed up toward Oakland around the map's "route horn" at Bakersfield. I stopped for a brief visit at Fresno's Calvary Catholic Cemetery. For those of you reading this who are not family members, my great grand-parents Thomas Adam Hoover and Isabel Mary Hoover (my mother Rhoda's grandparents) are buried there. Although I had been to the cemetery before, it was sort of on my route and I decided to go by there and see it again.

The Hoover's first son Roy tragically died at the age of six of a typhoid contagion carried in the family well. He is buried there on the family plot with his parents. On the occasion of her own mother Elma's death, my mother's first cousin Isabel thoughtfully arranged for plaques to be placed on the site honoring the Hoover's three other children, my grandmother Isabel Hoover Bensberg, my great aunt Elma Hoover Putnam, and my great Uncle Augustus "Gus" Hoover. Note that the dark color of the markers was from me pouring water over them so that they would be more legible for the photos. As with the petroglyphs carved by the Western Shoshone thousands of years ago, even gravestones age very quickly.















I finally arrived home late Friday.

The loneliest road is now off of my bucket list, but it was a great and interesting adventure for me. Thanks for reading!

Kent]]>The Loneliest Road2025-05-20T10:17:14-07:00https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/e8e80a7fd2323eeac58b0353edff1844-3.html#unique-entry-id-3https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/e8e80a7fd2323eeac58b0353edff1844-3.html#unique-entry-id-3The scenery on my drive to Ely was spectacular. I lost track of how many mountain passes over 7,000 feet in elevation I encountered. Fortunately, there was no snow on the road on those high passes. On the way down, there were also multiple opportunities to see vast stretches of open valleys with beautiful snow-capped mountains towering above them.







The main industry in Ely is its still-active copper mine. When approaching the town from the west on Highway 50, this is one of the first things that is strikingly different from the typical basin and range topography:



The residue from all of that strip mining is piled hundreds of feet high and stretches for miles. And here is what is in the center (The image is not my own. I found it online. They obviously don't want looky lous like me to see what is "happening behind the curtain"):


And when I saw this promotional brochure in the White Pine County Museum in Ely, and the real deal in the Locomotive Shop at the Northern Nevada Railroad Museum there, it became clear that big players have been involved in extracting the mineral wealth of the Silver State:




Speaking of the railroad museum, my self-guided tour of that (right after my visit to the county museum) was well worth the $8 price of admission. They let you wander into this enormous shop where they are repairing old locomotives and rail cars. The company offers rail tourist tours on the same tracks that used to support freight and passenger rail to Ely. In fact, the car barn is a carryover from that by-gone rail service which apparently was a big deal for both the mine and people coming to the area.

Here is some of what I saw inside:



A coal car to feed the above historic steam locomotive—both now being repaired…


I watched several workers using these hydraulic jacks to raise the lovely passenger car seen below this photo. Shortly thereafter, I saw them install the repaired train wheels and front grill:







Tonight, I am in Tonopah. Tomorrow, I will share my photos and stories about my visit to Hickison Petroglyph BLM recreation area. Thanks for reading! ]]>The Loneliest Road2025-05-18T17:05:44-07:00https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/dc467de587e0e903564d16e697eb29ee-2.html#unique-entry-id-2https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/dc467de587e0e903564d16e697eb29ee-2.html#unique-entry-id-2I got up this morning at my hotel in Eureka, the SureStay by Best Western. It was a nice place, but, like many hotels today, its breakfast left a lot to be desired.

I started the day exploring Eureka a little bit. Here are some photos that I took of the downtown area, and also on a road leading up into the hills above town…

The Eureka County Courthouse was built in 1879 at a cost of $38,000 which was a lot of money for that time. It was quite an imposing structure, and still is today. Eureka had the most developed lead and silver mines in the country then. So there was a lot of money flowing through the area.

front view of the courthouse

side view

Another monumental structure for such a small town was built with the same money at about the same time. This is the Eureka Opera house where I saw the fiddle contest yesterday.



I was curious to see a mining operation, so I drove on a road that led up into the hills just above the town. I came across a fabulous view of the enormous valley leading up to the town. Notice the snow-capped mountains in the second photo below. That was from yesterday. I dodged a bullet coming over one of those passes just before the storm.






And here are two scenes of the previous mining operations at the end of that road above Eureka.
more recent mining


an old-timer's claim, located just above the former—it probably predates the other, more industrial operation by about 50 years


I am in Ely Nevada now, holed up at the Nevada Club for my lodgings.

More tomorrow from Ely, before I head off to camp tomorrow night at Hickison Petroglyph Recreation Area.

]]>The Loneliest Road2025-05-17T20:32:14-07:00https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/c94c0670b39c30f768a2a0f85a0291aa-0.html#unique-entry-id-0https://kentporter.info/blog-2/files/c94c0670b39c30f768a2a0f85a0291aa-0.html#unique-entry-id-0I am creating this blog as an easier way of communicating to family and friends about what I am “up to” between May 16th and 24th. Some of you may be aware that I was originally planning on driving a few of my high school classmates across Nevada on the "Loneliest Road In America", Highway 50. We would drive in Cyndi’s and my new electric Ford Mustang Mach E. We were going to a mini-reunion near St. George, Utah and Zion National Park that was planned for mid-April. The reunion and the road trip got cancelled because of dwindling enthusiasm and scheduling conflicts. That was all okay with me, but I still wanted to do the challenge: fight range anxiety by driving across a pretty desolate landscape. And I couldn’t get any takers to go with me.

So with Cyndi’s encouragement, I am off and running on a solo journey into the territory served by the aptly-named road. I will intersperse my blog with locations where I am staying. For three nights, I will be camping while sleeping in a “tricked out” Mustang. Here is the Mach E forum posting where I found the necessary info.

I found the foam here, right in my back yard along San Pablo Avenue. I special-ordered from the foam store two 2" pieces. Sandwiched together, they now temporarily cover the back area in the Mustang behind the folded back seats. They will serve to bridge the different level of the folded seats. Over that will go a special air mattress that I bought expressly for the car.



Below are some photos that I took today during my trip from Fallon to Eureka…

I have already had two salads of this "gourmet Nevada quality". The first was in Fernley while I was waiting for the Mustang to charge. The second was tonight in Eureka. Iceberg lettuce and bottled dressing are apparently a thing in this desolate territory!



So the "haute cuisine" is not something that might lure visitors to the route, at least not the kind who are spoiled from Oakland and its great restaurants.

And I saw some evidence that would make me not inclined to move to downtown Fallon. I don't know whether or not this place caters to the service men and women who work on the U.S. Navy's airstation nearby.


Along the way, though, the scenery and vibe can be quite spectacular.

To help understand the next photos and accompanying text, here is a blurb from AI:

Lake Lahontan was a large prehistoric lake that existed during the Pleistocene era, covering parts of modern northwestern Nevada, northeastern California, and southern Oregon. Today, remnants of this ancient lake include Pyramid Lake and Walker Lake, while the modern Lake Lahontan is a reservoir created for irrigation purposes.


Grimes Point petroglyph site is one cool place between Fallon and Austin. Somewhere between 5,000 and 10,000 years ago, native peoples carved petroglyphs in a huge field of basalt boulders. Those boulders, (which at one time were under the ocean) were on the shores of an enormous prehistoric Lake Lahontan that filled the entire valley shown in this scene. For perspective, I zoomed in as much as I could, because the Fallon Naval Air Station (one of the hangers is shown) was a dot on the horizon from where I was standing.





Looking the other way among the field of basalt boulders, you can see flat lines on the mountainside which are remnants of the declining shoreline of the former lake.



Here are several shots of the petroglyphs on the boulders. One speculation is that hunters were hiding for long stretches behind these boulders, waiting for antelope to appear on the shores of the ancient lake. Perhaps the images were created by those bored hunters. Others have speculated that the acts of creating the petroglyphs were inspired by shamans who were present with the artists. Perhaps they all were participating in rituals together.












Highway 50 is not always a straight flat road on which you can easily and safely drive 90 miles an hour. Yes, one travels huge distances like that. Except for when I was in a hurry to get to Eureka to attend a fiddle contest, I usually drove the speed limit which is 70 miles per hour.

Sometimes, the road takes you over 6,500 foot mountain passes. There are frequently scenes like the following:



On one of the mountain passes before I got to Eureka, it was pouring rain. Then it started to sleet heavily. I was pretty concerned that it might snow, because I am not carrying chains. But I made it safely to my destination.

Out in the middle of nowhere is a place where Cyndi and I stopped for dinner in the fall of 2014, a former Pony Express stop—yes, Highway 50 follows the old Pony Express Trail—Middlegate Station.



Note the dollar bills pinned to the ceiling everywhere:



Another place that Cyndi and I stopped in 2014 was Austin. In fact, we stayed overnight in this "Cozy Mountain Motel":



I was able to fully charge the Mustang at Champ's Chevron in Austin. If I hadn't been able to do so, I would have had to abort the trip and return to Fernley. The EV charging stations are really few and far between. It was a calculated risk, but it paid off and the rest of the journey is now assured.



Austin is a dead town on Saturday. This photo was taken through a closed store window.



There is enough variety in the scenery along to route to make the drive quite interesting. Here is an enormous sand dune with a giant salt field in front of it, further proof of the ocean environment from eons ago:



In the afternoon, I attended a fiddle contest held in the wonderful Opera House in Eureka. The Opera House is a vestige of better times when silver and gold mines were flourishing. There were four different age categories for the contest, and the fiddlers were from all over Oregon, California, and Nevada. In the senior category, a fiddler from San Rafael won!




As I finish today's entries, I am headed off to Ely.

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