This entry is part 8 of 10 in the series Nevada Theme Month

The Loneliest Road in America

“It’s totally empty. There are no points of interest. We don’t recommend it. We warn all motorists not to drive there unless they’re confident of their survival skills.”

— Unnamed AAA Representative

U.S. Route 50 stretches over 3,000 miles across the nation, from Sacramento, California, to Ocean City, Maryland.

In July 1986, Life magazine published an article about the portion that bisects Nevada. This leg of the road follows a corridor used by the Pony Express in the 1860s and the Lincoln Highway in the early 20th century. The magazine derisively dubbed it the Loneliest Road in America, thanks to an expansive traverse through the Great Basin with little signs of humanity.

If one traveled from the west across Nevada towards Utah on 50, one might feel Life mischaracterized the road. Starting at Lake Tahoe, a driver quickly reaches Carson City, the state capital.

How could the loneliest road possibly exist on a route through a state capital? The rest of the highway makes Carson City, which does not even crack a population of 60,000, look like New York City by comparison. An hour west of the capital, one arrives in the town of Fallon. This metropolis, home to fewer than 10,000 humans, would barely crack the top 200 cities in Ohio. Yet, this stop marks the descent into true loneliness territory on U.S. 50.

Between Fallon and Delta, Utah – a distance of 409 miles, approximately the same as Boston to Baltimore – lie three communities: Austin, Eureka, and Ely. The respective populations of these villages in 2020 were 167, 414, and 3,924. One might feel some respite in Ely, which is large enough to accommodate some tiny casinos, but the loneliness kicks in again afterward, as the sprint to the Utah border is devoid of nearly all civilization.

Stops for gasoline and food are sparse. The environment is unforgiving. If you ever had cellular service to call for help, the wait for the tow truck would be a long one. Life’s designation, it seems, was not unwarranted.

But is taking the road less traveled by such a bad thing? Life and AAA wanted to warn motorists of the potential dangers of U.S. 50, but perhaps they missed another viewpoint: what if one wanted to journey the loneliest road in America?

Shrugging off the negative connotation, the state of Nevada leaned into Life’s nomenclature. They adorned the road with the title, hoping it would become a point of pride and tourism. For those awed by the sights of the planet’s topography, Nevada’s part of 50 is perhaps the antonym of loneliness.

Lake Tahoe’s beauty is well known and serves as a fantastic terminus. Just east of Fallon lies Sand Mountain, a singing sand dune two miles long and 600 feet high. Across 408 miles, a driver will fully experience the Basin and Range province. This region is dominated by a seemingly unending string of mountain chains and valleys, one turning into another over and over. The crag lover will rejoice as the road passes over 17 chains. The final rise crosses Sacramento Pass in the Snake Range, which is home to Great Basin National Park and its behemoth apex, Wheeler Peak.

Along the way are ancient petroglyphs, ghost towns, and abandoned mines.

Visiting Nevada’s 50 can have a profound effect. After driving the route, Stephen King became transfixed by the landscape and the people who had endured such a place. He wove the road and some legends from the area into his novel Desperation. Rush’s drummer, Neil Peart, described his fascination with 50 in his memoir, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road, noting the extreme distances between services. The British automobile television program Top Gear drove across the loneliest road in 2008. Host Jeremy Clarkson noted he was “mesmerised by the straightness of the road.”

Traveling long distances, with incredible lines of sight, on asphalt as straight as graph paper can, indeed, be entrancing.

I only motored across the portion of the highway between Ely and the Utah border, though it was round-trip and twice. My family traveled from Las Vegas to Ely because it was the only place we could secure short-notice lodging in a surprisingly large area. U.S. 50 gets the official lonely title, but the truth is most of the roadways through Nevada lack civilization. Our trek up U.S. 93, State Route 318, and U.S. Route 6 took us through red canyons and across sprawling deserts. As the ground became browner, the localized cliffs morphed into expansive basins and towering ranges. We could watch certain mountains, standing over miles of flatness, for scores of miles. We did not travel the entirety of the loneliest road, but our 240 miles on its easternmost stretch and the nearly 10 hours on its cousins allowed us to understand its power.

Sometimes, the density of urban life or even the density of a forest can overwhelm one’s understanding of terrestrial perspective. The ability to gauge distance can become dull when we can’t see past the buildings and trees. On U.S. Route 50, a driver can see and feel the scope of the planet. On this great tableau, the vastness palpably strikes the senses; simultaneously, the knowledge that even this massive straight line is a mere sliver on a planet that is a dot among larger dots in a sea of unending stars is rather jarring.

Seeing this area struck me with the thought that Life magazine simply got it wrong. This lonely road was not something to avoid, but something worthy of flocking. Perhaps in a world of increased fuel efficiency, our concerns about “survival skills” are no longer as pertinent as they were in 1986. Ironically, Life’s original designation had the effect of increasing traffic on 50. By some metrics, it’s no longer the least traveled highway in Nevada, let alone America.

Still, the Nevada Commission on Tourism created a promotion for the route. A visitor can obtain a passport that they lovingly call a “survival guide.” Get a stamp at all the locations across the state and you can obtain a certificate attesting your survival skills.