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Day 14 - Ely NV to Fallon NV

From the Diary of Eagle Scout Bernard R. Queneau Member of the 1928 Lincoln Highway BSA Lincoln Highway Promotional Tour Saturday, August 4, 1928 - After eating a terrible canned cow breakfast at the cafe, we left at 9:30.  Traveling 198 miles, we arrived in Fallon, a large town, a regular city for those parts, of 1700.  We had not eaten since breakfast, so our first duty was eats.  We twice saw a mountain of fine sand, a regular picture of the Sahara.  Then at night we gave a demonstration.  But we were all tired and it was not extremely peppy.

Saturday - August 30th The rain clouds from yesterday are only a memory – the sky is crystal clear and sunny.  We are up and ready to go for the 8:30 departure – only to find that there has been a change in plans.   The town of Ely has asked us to join their Lincoln Highway Days parade, so we all roll out to the far side of town to join the lineup.  For a small town, Ely has a pretty big parade.  A squadron of about a dozen ultralight aircraft land on the blocked-off highway and taxi up to take the lead position.

As we wait for the procession, I wander around looking at some of the local’s cars.  Two spark fond memories – there is a really nice 1958 Ford Custom sedan with 27,000 original miles that is almost identical to one that was my mother’s first car.  There’s a 1950 Studebaker truck like one I bought to tinker with in college for $75 – perhaps this one is in a little better (OK, WAY better) shape. As I come up on Bernie and Ester’s car, they are kissing each other for a photograph.  They readily agree to repeat the pose for me, though the ardor of the moment is tarnished when they start giggling.  Newlyweds – what can you do? Since Sophie is about to be shown off, we break out the damp towels and try to clean her up as much as possible.  Two weeks and close to three thousand miles have ruffled her hair and wrinkled her gown a bit, but she still looks pretty spiffy.  However, as Bill is cleaning the left front wheel, he makes a rather alarming discovery.  The chrome retaining ring that holds the tire on has broken!  It is likely the tire would have blown out in the middle of the desolate Route 50 if we had driven on!  It’s OK for the slow parade route, but we will have to mount our one good spare tire before we leave for Fallon.

The parade kicks off at 9 and winds through Ely, ending up at the South Ely Railroad Depot – a common theme in these Midwest towns.  Most of them sprang up every hundred miles or so because that was how far a typical steam engine could go before needing water.    However, Ely actually has a working steam locomotive sitting at the station – it is used to give ride on the weekend.  The train is beautiful, glistening in the sunlight as it huffs and hisses. We decide to grab breakfast at the Nevada Hotel, built in 1928-29, the first fire-proof building in the state (4 feet of concrete between each floor!), and at six stories, was the tallest building in Nevada.  The building is being restored to its original condition, with the possible exception of th slot machines that fill every nook and cranny of the lobby.  Ken isn’t complaining – he wins enough in a nickel slot to pay for his medal.  We find an original Lincoln Highway Sign in the restaurant when we order breakfast – steak and eggs for $3.99!  We also find Earl and Shirl Vitus from the Tour – they had dinner at  this restaurant last night.

After what ends up as lunch (it’s almost noon by the time we get through with breakfast), Bill pulls Sophie over into the rear parking lot of the hotel and change tires.  He keeps the canvas water bag over the broken area – these old detachable rim wheels are very dangerous.  The broken section is under a lot of pressure, and could fly off at any time.  However, thanks to the bottle jack and some coordinated efforts, we have the tires swapped out in short order.  After a quick stop to fill up (The next gas is 77 miles away), we are on our way to Eureka.  Oh!  Ken saw the fire engine in the lot where we changed tires - Happy Birthday, Ruth!)

It is hard to describe the scenery without repeating myself.  Craggy mountains, twisting roads, sagebrush.  Every new valley and mountain is much like the last, yet still breathtaking.  Dusty moss-green plants are surrounded by faded gold weeds, with large patches of gray-brown soil.  Every now and then you see a gate set up on a dirt road, with a cluster of buildings just barely visible.  We go for miles with no sign of civilization other than the road itself.  No telephone poles, no fences – just wide-open land that stretches out as far as you can see in every direction.  If you take away the asphalt ribbon we are traveling on, you’d be seeing exactly what early settlers encountered 150 years ago.

Eureka is a medium-sized town that at one time boasted an Opera House and a daily newspaper.  Both are now defunct, however, the town is attempting to renovate both buildings.  The Tour group is still in town, having taken a self-guided walking tour of the historic buildings.  Most date back to the late 1800s, when these towns were all booming.   There are two Lincoln Highway markers here -  in addition to one of the original concrete posts, there is a plaque noting that this is the General Motors section of the Lincoln Highway. Given the rarity of gas stations on Route 50, we fill up again.  Bill Ryan’s 1969 VW Camper (Toot-Toot) is at the next pump, but he getting fuel removed from his tank!  I know that those old Volkswagens are good on gas, but I didn’t realize they produced it.  As it turns out, our good Dr. Ryan has made a fuel-ish mistake and pumped 5 gallons of diesel fuel into Toot-Toot’s tank.  Luckily, the owners of the Eureka Garage have a pump and remove the contaminated gasoline so he can refuel.

After checking out the old newspaper officer and walking around town a bit, we resume our journey.  Sophie is rolling well, but running a little warm as we work our way over several mountains along Route 50.  Elevations range from about 6300 feet to almost 8000 feet.  A couple of steep grades require a downshift to second, but she never falters.  As we come down some particularly steep and twisting switchbacks with sheer drop-offs, I am very glad we discovered that bad wheel. We decide to fill up in Aurora, a tiny community nestled between peaks.  At $2.32 for regular, we hope that this is the high point for gas prices.   We also find that Sophie is a little low on water – she hasn’t had any added in over 1000 miles.  Several trips with a drink cup correct that oversight. There is a tiny nick-knack shop across the street whose owner has a 1927 Lincoln Highway Tour sticker she found buried under debris in the basement of the 1890 bank and outbuildings she bought as a home.   The sticker is still colorful and mostly intact, and even has the original dirt!  The owner also has a Wanted poster that identifies her and two friends as being vicious outlaws.  They dress up in costume and stage ‘robberies’ in local towns – she says she bought the bank so they could practice in Aurora before hitting the real thing!

Back to the Loneliest Highway in America, and more mountains.  The car continues to glide up and down the steep grades with no muss or fuss – the temperature often climbs up into the red, but she is not overheating, and cools down immediately on the down slopes.  I have turned over driving to Ken, and sitting in the back it is hard to remember that this is a 71 year-old car.  The ride is smooth and the engine is silent.  Actually, the back seat is almost another world – I can’t hear Ken and Bill talking up front, and it’s like sitting in a leather couch in someone’s living room. As we get closer to Fallon, I hear a jet roar past overhead, and see puffs of dust and smoke on the left.  We have entered a military bombing range!  It is a little disconcerting to see the targets and explosions that close, but there aren’t any burned-out cars on the sides of the road, so the pilots must be doing OK.

It is about 6:30 when we reach Fallon, and instead of going to the hotel we decide to fuel up and go straight to the restaurant.  Gas is $1.98 at the first station so we head further in – and see $2.32!  We make a U-turn and go back to the now-reasonably priced first station.  Then we make our way to the Overland Hotel, our dinner stop. Built in 1908, the Overland Hotel is a genuine Old West building that is being restored to original condition by the owner, a Lincoln Highway Association member .  We are greeted by Dottie Parr, who gives us a brief history of the hotel.  There are signs, photos, artwork, and posters all over the walls that relate to the Old West or the hotel itself.  They have a large brown bear on display – no, wait, that’s Dudley Morrison.  And Charlie Bronk stands next to a life-sized cutout of Hopalong Cassidy with his horse to show us that they have the same smile.  The general consensus is that Charlie does bear a striking resemblance – to the horse.

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