Enjoying the Town of Elko, Nevada

When traveling along the lonely stretches of the byways, a person can venture into places they may have planned and perhaps not have planned.

On a hunch, I drove into Elko, Nevada. I was not sure why the trip would be worth it, but as I drove along the main road into this small town in North Eastern Nevada, I realized why the black asphalt road had led me there.

This village seems to beckon the adventurer. 

As mentioned in a previous column, my lovely wife, Laureen, wondered why I was traveling to a place we had never heard of. 

Perhaps that was enough.

In the Native American Shoshone language, Elko means ‘rocks piled on one another.’ Not sure that is what I saw when driving into the town of nearly 21,000 citizens but maybe I didn’t look out the windows of the truck enough. Though I must admit, driving through Ruby Valley and into the township there were plenty of rocks nestled on top of each other, so perhaps the Shoshone knew something I did not.

The city of Elko, known as the Heart of North Eastern Nevada, is not that far from the Ruby Mountains - in fact, I stared at them a few times while visiting Elko. They are impressive and can be easily seen the mere 20 miles to the east. 

Tall, imposing mountains which offer hiking, skiing, hunting and over 20 alpine lakes -  high-altitude lakes in a mountainous areas, usually near or above the treeline.

In layman’s terms, lakes that don’t have a lot of trees around them due to the elevation.

The Ruby Mountains are called the Swiss Alps of Nevada.

In fact, on my travels near Elko, I actually met a lovely family by the name of Von Trapp who asked if I wanted to join their singing group. Though my voice is lovely, I had to turn them down and off they went wearing fashionable dirndls for the girls and lederhosen for the boys.

Elko also claims to be the biggest city by virtue of population in nearly 130 miles. That is saying a lot and after asking strangers in the main park if this was true I am not sure.

“Is it the largest city in one hundred and thirty miles?” I asked one man.

“If you say so.”

“But is it?” I leaned into my journalistic atmosphere.

“If you say so,” was the return.

Elko may be small but they have big boots

I wandered off to find one of the many breweries in the local area.

The city received its name, per the myth, by Charles Crocker who was a superintendent of the Central Pacific Railroad.

Railroads were big businesses during the conquering of the west and this muck-muck, Crocker decided he would name this new burg after one of his favorite animals, the elk.

But, even Crocker knew that no one would want to say, “I live in Elk,” so he added an ‘o’ and thus Elko was born in the late 1860s.

Elko was and still is a railroad town

Elko was a part of the original California Trail - the path to the promised land of high taxes and higher real estate prices.

“I cannot wait to mortgage one of our children for a bungalow in Malibu,” one pioneering father was heard to say. 

When the construction of this section of railroad was finished, the engineers and work crews left but the town began to grow and thrive as a hub for ranching, mining, railroad freight, and everything else a growing town needs.

In 1917, Elko was officially incorporated as a city.

There are many interesting things to learn about this Heart of North East Nevada and one of curiosity value is the importance it had with the commercial airmail service. Something called the Kelly Act, which was enacted by congress in 1925, allowed the United States Postal Service to contract out some of its mail service. The first time this act was used was on April 6, 1926 when a commercial plane flew from Pasco, Washington all the way to what one day became the Elko Regional Airport - an amazing distance of 487 miles.

The Kelly Act is much like the newer version, the Jeff Bezos Act.

Stopping by the Northeastern Nevada Museum on Idaho Street - why Idaho Street instead of Nevada Street, I do not know - I saw the original Pony Express Office which had served Ruby Valley and was moved to this location in 1960.

Pony Express Office outside of museum

It was perfect, as though someone could rest there while waiting for the next young rider barreling into the area.

While touring the museum, I saw something that brought joy to my heart. Two young mothers escorting their very young children from exhibit to exhibit patiently explaining what each display was showing.

A whole array of fossils are on display

Traveling as I do, I visit a lot of museums and sometimes they are crowded and sometimes they are empty, but it always makes me remember the times when Laureen, my lovely wife, and I would take the girls to various museums in the states and abroad.

Such good times.

“Can we leave now,” Erica may say.

Jessica would pipe up with, “There’s just a bunch of old stuff here.”

“I’m hungry,” Kelly would finish the conversation.

Good memories.

One of the women looked over and asked if I was a photographer since I had my Canon Rebel around my neck and had been snapping pictures.

“Laureen wished I was,” I replied.

Turns out both ladies were from Indianapolis. That’s somewhere to the east of Nevada. 

Kristina had moved out to Elko nearly a year ago and truly loved the small town.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she told me. “And the people are so friendly.”

Becca, Kristina’s friend, still resided in Indiana. “Kristina told me to come and visit, now I don’t want to leave. No crowds, no crime and the cost of living is so much better.”

It also turns out that Kristina is a professional photographer. I politely smiled when Becca showed me Kristina’s website.

Photo by Kristina Crews

I may have to go back to college for some photography lessons.

Bidding adieu, I traversed the museum and marveled at how well everything was structured and the care each individual exhibit received from the staff.

And that is no easy task for anyone to take one with over 20,000 square feet and covering multiple levels.

There are intricate Native American baskets, shoes, weapons, beautiful artwork, and everything else either the Shoshone or Paiute may have needed or desired while living in the nearby locale.

The history of mining - which was so important to the development of Nevada, which is known as the Silver State - is on display with tools of the trade as well as descriptions of how they were utilized.  

The history of ranching, which is a major industry that Nevada ranks 3rd in the nation for ranch sizes with the average ranch in Nevada at 3,500 acres. There is exhibit after exhibit explaining the daily routine of ranches with photographs, horse saddles, lariats, and tools of the trade.

A wonderfully historic Stage coach on display

Humongous two million year old mastodon bones can be found in the E.L. Wiegand Gallery  as well as other fossils of creatures that lived near Elko thousands of years ago like; giant sloths, lions, bison, unicorns, and small native horses.

These ancient but now extinct horses measured seven feet long and four feet tall. Much smaller than the horses we know and love so well now.

“Hey, Pardner,” one ancient cowboy may have said to another. “I like your horse but your feet are dragging the ground.”

One huge room is crammed with stuffed animals. Not like in a baby’s room but more of a big game hunters trophy library. 

Beautiful displays of animals for the visitor to see

Turns out that most of the animals were donated by the late Jack Wanamaker. He was a conservationist who enjoyed shooting wild animals from all over the world. Over 180 exhibits are in this one room alone and is the largest such collection in the state.

There were lions, tigers, and bears - oh my. I had to go there.

On the second floor are walls filled with paintings by legendary western artists Will James and Edward Borein.

The styles of both artists allow the viewer to really see and feel what life was like in the early days of western life.

In another gallery are dozens of photographs by Ansel Adams and Edward Weston. These are original and many are personally autographed.

There are even watercolors and etchings by Weston, who seemed to have plenty of time to create these gorgeous paintings and renderings when not snapping photographs.

I offered some of my own photographs but was politely told to leave quietly.

This museum is a must stop for any adventurer traveling through northeast Nevada.

For photos by Kristina Crews: www.krccorner.com

There's Space Aliens in Rachel, Nevada

Little A'Le'Inn, in Rachel, Nevada

 According to Michael, a staff member at the Little A’Le’Inn, in the very tiny town of Rachel, Nevada, “I’ve seen things in the night sky that should not be there.”

“Aliens?” I asked, a hunch since I had just driven the Extraterrestrial Highway.

The sign says it all near Rachel, Nevada

He looked at me. “Not sure, but whatever I was looking at did not maneuver like a plane or helicopter should. Just bizarre really.”

Being a bit peckish, I had stopped by the very uniquely colorful restaurant along Nevada State Route 375 for a spot of breakfast.

Strange sights to be seen at the Little A'Le'Inn, Rachel, Nevada

The eggs, home fries and sour dough toast were yummy.

Nikki, the unofficial manager said, “I’ve lived here all my life. The night skies are almost scary since they are so full of stars. We have no light pollution at all.”

This area of Nevada is so removed from city lights, especially lying in the middle of a valley that no city lights could interrupt the celestial ceilings of the night sky.

“And you?” I asked. 

A moment of silence. “Yeah, I’ve seen things that I can not explain. A green comet, I thought, streaking across the desert sky at night. I’ve seen lots of meteorites but nothing that looked like that. Green, almost effervescent.”

That was strange, but I just happened to be in the middle of alien country and anything could be expected. 

Rachel is less than 28 miles from Area 51, the once top-secret military installation that houses aliens and alien aircraft - wait, I’ve been listening to too many conspiracy podcasts.

The existence of Area 51 was finally acknowledged by the United States Government in 2013, but as of yet, no public tours are allowed.

Heed the warning near Rachel, Nevada

Now, that’s a way to get rid of the national debt.

“Dude, I just shook hands with a Grey,” one enthusiast may blush. “I’d pay another gazillion dollars for that again.”

Driving into Rachel from the small town of Alamo was rather lonely. Fifty-two miles along Route 375 leaves a person wondering what could occur in these isolated night skies.

Lonely and Alien looking landscape toward Rachel, Nevada

Forget the night skies for a moment since it was daytime. 

As I was driving I pulled over for a moment as a huge flock of birds, not sure if they were sparrows but from a distance they appeared to be, blocked the roadway.

I got out and just stood there.

There must have been hundreds just walking around the black top, not paying any attention to me - and I was only 30 yards or so away from them.

I studied the birds for a moment wondering why they were gathered as such when suddenly like a black cloud they all took to wing. For a moment the sun was lost in their ascension.

Glancing across the sky there was nothing unusual, bright blue backdrop with a few puffy white clouds.

As I climbed back into my truck, there were noticeable goosebumps on both of my arms. 

It was very eerie and disconcerting.

I mentioned my incident to Nikki. “Yeah, the birds do act strange around here once in a while.”

It should be noted that just prior to my unnatural experience with the flock of birds, I had stopped by the iconic black mailbox.

The Black Mailbox, Rachel, Nevada

The mailbox that folks can leave messages to aliens if they choose along 375.

I did not since I was not sure of the postage cost to a galaxy far far away.

Rachel is located at the southern end of Sand Springs Valley. Driving through it. there is nothing to see in this empty bowl-shaped place which measures about 25 miles wide but with the emptiness, it seemed a lot wider and more desolate.

Northwest of Rachel is a dry lake bed with no name. Suspicious?

And if that isn’t strange enough, the history of the valley will surely raise eyebrows - much like Science Officer Spock does when he is inquisitive about some space anomaly. 

Seems that near this locale is something called the Alamo breccia - an ancient layer of sea sediment from an inland sea over 50 million years ago.

There have been a lot of past inland seas, thus a person can wander many deserts and find seashells and other fossils - no big deal.

But the fossils found in this breccia layer are not supposed to be there. Fossils of these deep water fish at one time in the past were violently thrown to the shore of the sea to mix with the more typical and newer shallow based life. Now, these fossils are all mixed together - hardly what a scientist would expect.

Geologists theorize that a massive meteorite smashed into the land about 375 million years ago. This would have caused the older and deeper sea life to crash onto the shoreline and later mix with the shallower sea life once the sea dried up.

“Well, what about the crater? Where is it?” one geologist may have asked.

Years counting in the hundreds of millions would have filled the crater leaving no sign of it today.

This only leads more and more people to believe there is something ‘alien’ about the lands surrounding Rachel.

And this brings in the curious. So, there is a welcomer. 

Little Fidget, the greeter dog, greeted me with a wag of its tail and a sniff of my leg. 

“He loves guests, and gets plenty of attention,” Michael stated. “We get anywhere from one hundred to five hundred visitors daily during our top season.”

The crush of tour buses, mellow biker gangs, families on vacation, foreigners looking for space foreigners, and men dressed in black, occurs during the months of March through October.

For a tiny hole-in-the-wall joint, Little A’Le’Inn is truly worth a visit.

There are alien statues outside, a mock-up (maybe) of an alien craft hanging off the rear of a tow truck, plaques dedicated to this and that, and just the vastness of the desert is enough for any visitor to enjoy.

One plaque explaining the importance of Rachel, Nevada

The large valley used to be home to various bands of the Paiute Indians and in the hills around Rachel petroglyphs, arrowheads and other signs of early native American settlement can be found.

There is no evidence that any long term residency had taken place from any of the tribes moving through the area though.

Rumor has it that for more of a permanent residency they traveled to south to Las Vegas - perhaps at Caesar’s.

Then the miners moved into the local mountains seeking their fortunes. Like all such dreams, there were good and bad times in the search for fabulous wealth.

There are dozens of abandoned mines and ghost towns within an hour of Rachel.

One example is the town of Logan, approximately ten miles west from the town of Hiko and three miles south of Mount Irish Peak. Here a settlement was founded after silver ore was discovered in 1865. But, like many mining camps, this one did not last long either.

A post office opened in 1868 and closed in 1871 when the mines played out.

It became a ghost town, and there are others to explore such as Crescent, Freiburg, and Groom.

Yes, the same name as was given that humongous dry lake bed which Area 51 now occupies: Groom Lake.

A note of caution on two aspects of traveling through these deserts.

When wandering through a ghost town with mine shafts, be very careful where you tread.

These are remote areas that have been unoccupied for many decades and anything that once may have been sturdy in the mines probably isn’t now. Folks can and do lose their lives exploring where they probably should not have.

And, when approaching Area 51, the signs concerning the use of deadly force are real. I have been escorted away from the tall chain link fences in the past by a couple of not-so-friendly security personnel.

One of them had the strangest eyes too, they sort of had an inner lid - but perhaps it was the sunlight.

Nikky told me a story about the production of the 2011 film Paul. A parody of many science fiction movies and some scenes were supposed to take place within the Little A’Le’Inn.

“A film crew came in, took photos, did sound checks and then left.” she stated. “Then they copied the interior and filmed it someplace else. So, if you watch the movie Paul, it didn’t happen here.”

Ah, the magic of Hollywood.

I have never viewed the film but plan to now, so I can tell anyone in the room watching that it wasn’t filmed where it looks like it was.

I stood outside after my adieus and looked across the vastness of this huge empty valley. 

Tens of thousands of people from all around the globe come here to visit, but are only those from planet earth?

Alamo, Nevada

 

The Alamo, Texas

Going on a road trip is awesome. The planning, the packing, the pressure, the pain, and then the panic.

“I’m going to be gone for two or three weeks,” I looked at Laureen. “Who’s going to make your coffee each morning?”

My trip to northern Nevada, Western Idaho, Eastern Oregon, and Northern California had been in the works for awhile. I do, occasionally plan trips but most of the time I wing it. This time I had some destinations in mind - actually I didn’t but pretended I did.

My friend Paul asked, “Where are you going?”

“The byways, my friend.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

I really didn’t but I knew I would be driving north at the beginning of August. Then Laureen changed my plans.

She broke her right foot. I think it was the metamucil or the metacognitive bone, but I probably have that wrong - I do remember Laureen explaining which bone it was that was broken after the x-ray but I wasn’t really listening.

Being the dutiful husband I am, I postponed the trip to be at her beck and call. And in the following six weeks, there was a lot of beckoning and a lot of calling 

She mended just fine but I was exhausted. I had to get on the road for some relaxation.

One hurdle while driving north on Interstate 15 toward northern Nevada is that the traveler must navigate the traffic of Las Vegas.

The economy may not be looking so great right now but try explaining that to the builders in Sin City.

New housing projects are popping up like weeds. Huge industrial complexes are sprouting like weeds. Hotels and apartment buildings are growing like weeds. And medicinal cannabis clinics are appearing like - well, weeds.

It was so confusing driving in stop and go traffic along Interstate 15 with all the freeway ramps and lanes closed that finally my GPS sent me a message: ‘you are now on your own.’

Laureen called me on my second day on the trip.

“Where are you?”

“I’m on Flamingo Boulevard for the thirtieth time in the past forty-eight hours.”

“So, stop and ask for help,” she replied.

Something no true man wants to do, but I had. A kindly Las Vegas police officer advised me, “I’ve been on Tropicana for the past three days. I don’t know where I am now.”

A week later, I located Route 93 and headed north. Nearly two hours after that, I came to the small quaint village by the name of Alamo.

The sun was slowly setting in the west, as it usually does, and my energy levels were in sync with that blazing bag of  hydrogen and helium.

Since I was pulling the tent trailer, or pop-up trailer as some like to call it, I pulled into Pickett’s RV Park and obtained a space.

It was a nice place to stay for the night. Courteous folks, large sites, and shady trees.

I did not know much about this berg but soon learned it is very small. Took thirty seconds to come to that realization. No stop sign. No traffic signal. Just the long black pavement of the highway bustling past a Sinclair gas station.

The town has a population of around 1,000 people and is pretty rural. Sitting along State Route 95 only 90 miles north of Las Vegas does allow the small locale plenty of byway travelers which support the couple of gas stations and motels in the area.

Sitting at nearly 3,500 feet in elevation gives the area a coolness that the folks down the hill in Vegas never feel.

“The pavements are melting,” one resident of Las Vegas may say to another during the summer. “Let’s head to Alamo.”

“What can we do there?”

“Not become a pile of liquid goo.”

A post office has been in operation since 1905, so Alamo is not a ghost town per definition.

I took a few moments (after setting up a very bougie sort of camp with carpets, a welcome mat that I do not really mean, and exterior solar lights), to drive the few streets the town has to offer in the way of neighborhoods.

It was impressive. Beautiful green lawns, tall billowing trees set against the background of neatly painted and well-kept houses. The schools I drove by would be the envy of any larger town.

Alamo has it going on, except for a lack of restaurants and bars.

The town was founded by a group of Mormons and with their religious beliefs concerning abstinence from alcohol, none was allowed within the town limits.

That changed earlier this year, when the town board started allowing alcohol sales in gas stations and supermarkets, but bars were still a no-no. 

No issue for this traveling writer - always carry a large ice chest just in case you end up in a dry county or town. 

Many believe the founders of the town wanted to immortalize the battle which took place nearly 1,400 miles southeast of their mainly ranching community.

But, the true story may be that when the community was imagined by Fred Allen, Mike Botts, Bert Riggs, and William Stewart, they thought the name Alamo, which is Spanish for poplar, would be appropriate because of all the poplar trees growing in the area.

“Remember the Alamo trees,” Riggs may have yelled at a community meeting.

“Let’s forgo the tree part, shall we,” Stewart may have returned.

Alamo is located within the Pahranagat Valley, and no matter how hard I tried I could not pronounce that name, but it is a beautiful long valley with soft rolling hills dotted here and there with ranches. Long white fences squaring off grasslands where horses and cattle seem pretty happy just munching away.

A few miles to the south along Route 93 is the Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge. 

It is over a 100 years old and was started by the locals as a respite for migratory fowl which would be flying here and there on their way somewhere. 

The over 5,000 acre refuge actually wasn’t created officially until August of 1963 in Lincoln County and is part of the larger Desert National Wildlife Refuge Complex. This complex, at nearly 2 million acres, happens to be the largest such refuge in the lower 48 states. 

Rumor has it that Hawaii did not return a phone call since it was embarrassed that all they had was a bunch of islands, and Alaska scoffed saying that the average citizen there had that many acres in their front yards.

I drove to the refuge and found it very relaxing and peaceful just sitting on one of the many benches that surround a large lake.

People in motorhomes, camping vans, and tents seemed very content while sitting in their lawn chairs in the designated campsites staring out across the sparkling blue waters toward the Badger Mountains to the west.

“We love it here,” Beatrice told me. “We’re from Henderson and like to get away up here and away from the hustle and bustle of city life.”

Her husband, Anthony, told me he likes to look for the green-winged teal, various mallards, pintails, and shovelers.

I had no idea what he was talking about but smiled as though I did. “Any luck today?”

“A beautiful mallard, but that’s about it,” Anthony stated. “Though to be honest, I’m just relaxing.”

Easy to see how that can be the call of the day. A slight breeze with the temperature in the mid-seventies made for a perfect outing.

The entire valley has seen humans strolling around its lush lakes and rolling hills for thousands of years.

Evidence of early American Indian tribes have either lived or traveled through the valley for the past 8,000 to 13,000 years ago. With all the abundant wildlife available in the area it was a no-brainer for the native tribes to settle here.

Deer, elk, antelope roam the hills and valleys freely making hunting relatively easy for experienced  hunters. The lakes and streams are full of trout, crappie, and catfish. Tens of thousands of fowl, of every species, make their way across this vast land giving the opportunity of those living here to have plenty to eat.

This valley had it all from ancient inhabitants all the way to the modern ones.

So, is Alamo worth a visit on its own? Not sure I would make it a final destination, but for a place to slow down for the night and relax, then definitely yes.

And, besides - it is only 13 miles to the most eastern section of the Extraterrestrial Highway.