The asphalt extends unerringly straight as it cuts through naked desert. Road, sky and earth stretch seemingly forever.
No trees impede the sweeping view. The clumps of scrub dotting the landscape would hardly shield a jackrabbit, let alone a traveler needing an impromptu rest stop.The country sits spectacularly vacant. No settlements. No buildings. Not even a cop-concealing billboard. I'm traversing a land of unfettered emptiness, which statisticians insist is one of the nation's most urbanized states.
"That's right," says Ken Evans of the Nevada Commission on Tourism. "Seventeen of 20 Nevada residents live in cities. Only California, New Jersey and Hawaii have higher concentrations of urban-dwellers."
The Silver State's city slickers cluster in two widely separated population centers - Reno and Las Vegas. I'm driving the 443 miles between them to see what fills the void.
With a full tank of gas, a dozen cassettes and a cooler crammed with Cokes, I depart from Reno, once Nevada's largest city. Its proximity to the transcontinental railroad made it an important commercial hub. As I head east on I-80, I parallel tracks lined with warehouses and industrial parks.
Thirty miles later, I leave the interstate and turn southeast toward Fallon. The agricultural "Oasis of Nevada" sprouted from desert, courtesy of a 1915 water division project. I enter town and turn down Maine Street.
"No, it's not a misspelling," says Jane Pieplow, curator of the Churchill County Museum. "Fallon founding father Warren Williams named it for his native state."
Displays at the museum, perhaps one of Nevada's best, depict the day-to-day lives of residents from American Indians through 20th century homesteaders. A full-size rule-reed shelter highlights a Paiute exhibit, which also includes baskets, clothing and even duck decoys made from the marsh bulrushes.
I follow Maine Street south to U.S. 95, which Nevada has nicknamed "the Silver Trail." For a few miles, fields border the highway but soon yield to desert. Morning rays gently kiss the surrounding slopes, highlighting ridges and leaving ravines in somber shadow.
This is a land of basin and range, with chains of peaks separated by long valleys. Part of the Great Basin, rivers flow inland where they once fed a body of water larger than Lake Ontario. The climate changed, and the liquid evaporated. Only vestiges remain in spots like Walker Lake, which I glimpsed shimmering ahead.
Surrounded by parched hills, the 24-mile-long lake looks as out of place as an iceberg in Bermuda.
Hawthorne, which sits at the lake's southern tip, once served as a railway station for nearby mining camps. The ore petered out, new tracks bypassed town, and a fire nearly leveled the community. Then things began to boom.
In 1926, an explosion closed a New Jersey munitions depository. The military sought an obscure Western site for a replacement. Hawthorne proved ideal.
At what is now the largest ammunitions depot in the free world, 3,000 structures poke from the surrounding basin. Many are half-buried bunkers that provide earth-covered storage. As I leave town, I pass hundreds of these eerie weapons mounds, which spread like graves across the landscape.
The highway leads to Tonopah, where Jim Butler discovered silver at the turn of the century. Local legend says the prospector picked up a rock to hurl at an obstinate burro and found his would-be missile chock-full of silver.
Two years later, others unearthed gold 21 miles to the south. A city grew, which was named Goldfield. As I approach, I see headframe towers, rusted shacks and tailing piles peppering the surrounding hillsides. In town, a handful of buildings, most constructed from stone and brick, line the highway. Boards cover windows in many.
Delores Lubow at Glory Hole Cafe shows me a photograph of an expansive Goldfield in its heyday. "In 1908, the town had 20,000 residents," she says. "It was the biggest city in Nevada."
"What happened to the old buildings?" I ask.
"Many wooden houses were built on pilings. Owners simply moved them," she explains. "Fire claimed others when the town burned in 1923."
Following Delores' suggestion, I visit the Esmeralda County Courthouse. Other than the time-warp intrusion of computers, the two-story structure seems little changed since its construction in 1907. Dark wainscoting covers the walls, Tiffany lamps grace tables and antique typewriters sit atop old-fashioned desks. Rambunctious kids might still slide down the varnished banisters.
From Goldfield, I head to Beatty, then turn toward the ghost town of Rhyolite. The community's remains stand as stark shells against darkened desert. At one end of town the train depot endures, intact and fenced from the public. Bars cover portals at the jail, its iron doors rusted shut. The roofless schoolhouse lingers defiantly intact close to another building's crumbled walls. Nearby, bricks still cap what once was the town's finest structure.
"That's the John S. Cook Bank Building, built in 1907," says Clint Boehringer, the Bureau of Land Management volunteer ranger. "Post office in the basement. Fancy ice-cream parlor and bank on the ground floor. Second story was all lawyers' offices. Third floor housed the stock exchange with 50 members.
"People want to know what happened to the town. Truth is, there were just too dang many bankers, lawyers and stockbrokers."
Clint opens a gate and gives a tour of the fenced-off grounds surrounding the Bottle House. Cemented together side by side, rows of glass containers form its exterior walls. Most once held beer, but a few square shapes stud the mortar near a doorway.
"They're from Jhostetters Stomach Bitters," explains Clint. "Ninety percent alcohol and 10 percent opium. Didn't cure a bellyache, but you sure as heck didn't care."
I return to the Silver Trail for the final jaunt to Las Vegas. With afternoon shadows lengthening, I elect one last detour, this time to see ducks in the desert.
I drive to Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. Here, groundwater issues from more than 30 seeps and springs, providing wetland habitat in a bone-dry desert. Wildlife managers claim it's home to the highest concentration of endemic species in the country.
Parking beside Crystal Reservoir, I watch the sun dip behind western hills. As the sky turns golden, aquatic birds squawk and swim across the water, their bodies mere silhouettes in the pond's gilded ripples. The sunset flames deep crimson, fades to blushing magenta, then dusky indigo.
By the time I rejoin the highway, the heavens are coal black and dusted with stars. The southwestern horizon faintly glows muddy-red, looking like the first rays of a smoky dawn. As I approach Las Vegas, the aurora intensifies.
Finally, I top a hill and look down onto an ocean of glittering city lights. The brightness tapers outward, filling the void and sweeping toward darkened unseen shores. From the gleaming center of the sea, leviathan casinos project like islands, lavishly lit in fantasias of color.
Suddenly, Nevada looks very urban indeed.
*****
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
If you go
When to go:
The drive between Reno and Las Vegas may be enjoyed year-round. In summer, lower altitude sites such as Crystal Reservoir and Rhyolite may best be enjoyed in morning or evening coolness. Winter storms occasionally dust higher elevations with snow.
The route:
Take Interstate-80 from Reno to Fernley. Exit onto U.S. Alternate Highway 50, which soon merges with U.S. Highway 50 and leads to Fallon. Turn south on U.S. Highway 95 and follow it all the way to Las Vegas.
Most of the Silver Trail is wide, two-lane highway in excellent condition. Long, straight stretches make passing generally safe and easy. Portions of the route are subject to high cross winds. Motorists should watch gas gauges carefully, especially late at night when small town stations may be closed.
Reno:
Located near the top of Nevada's western wedge, Reno lies 35 miles northeast of Lake Tahoe. Although less glitzy than Las Vegas, the city offers a full array of hotel-casinos, restaurants and entertainment. Call 1-800-FOR-RENO for general information and lodging referrals.
Fallon:
Sixty miles east of Reno, Fallon features supermarkets, gas stations, restaurants and fast food outlets. Admission to the Churchill County Museum (1050 S. Maine St., (702) -423-3677) is free. Call 1-800-874-0903 for more information.
Hawthorne:
Located 72 miles south of Fallon, Hawthorne offers fuel, lodging and restaurants. Tours of the Hawthorne Army Ammunition Depot are offered only on Armed Forces Day, third Saturday in May. For more information, call (702) -945-5896.
Tonopah:
A midway location, 236 miles from Reno and 207 from Las Vegas, makes Tonopah an ideal lunch, refueling or overnight stop. Pride of the town is the historic Mizpah Hotel, Casino and Restaurant (1-800-MINING-1) Call (702) -482-3859 for more information.
Goldfield:
A living ghost town, Goldfield offers limited traveler's services. The Esmeralda County Courthouse is open during normal business hours. For general information, stop at the Glory Hole Gift Shop (702) -485-6365), located along U.S. 95.
Rhyolite:
Located four miles west of Beatty off Nevada Route 374, the site is open year-round. A BLM volunteer ranger normally resides there from October through March. Exercise care in exploring the ruins. For more information, contact Friends of Rhyolite, P.O. Box 85, Amargosa Valley, NV 89020.
Ash Meadows:
From U.S. 95, turn south on Nevada Route 160, then follow the paved highway through Crystal and continue on graded road 14 miles southwest. Crystal Reservoir is located in the center of the refuge. For more information, call (702) -372-5435.
Las Vegas:
The city, known as the entertainment capital of the world, boasts 11 of the 12 largest hotels on the planet.
For general information and central reservations, call 1-800-332-5333.
Other additional information:
Contact the Nevada Commission on Tourism, 1-800-NEVADA-8.