"It's on empty now," Sean said after rolling down his window. We had come to a stop sign at the intersection of Extraterrestrial Highway (NV-375) and Grand Army of the Republic Highway (US-6) in the middle of nowhere, USA. "We should have topped off the tanks in Caliente," he said. I agreed; however, there was nothing I could do about it now. This trip was my first time traveling to Tonopah, NV, and I was a little upset that nobody said anything about gas as we drove through Caliente, as both Linda and Sean had made this trip before. I also knew we had plenty of diesel for the truck, which gave Linda a good excuse for not saying anything, and Sean drives a hybrid car and could make the distance to Tonopah and back probably twice before running low on fuel. Nope, the problem was pure ignorance on my part as Sean was driving my Jeep, and I didn't recognize that there was not a single service station between Caliente and Nowhere.
"Tuck in close behind the trailer, and we'll draft you as far as possible," I said. Truthfully, running out of gas, if it happens, will be a minor inconvenience. I fully expect the Fj to stall over the remaining 30 miles to Tonopah; however, we have another vehicle, plenty of water, and could make short work of dropping off the trailer, picking up a can of gas, and driving back to pick the Fj up. An inconvenience for sure but not life-threatening by any means.
We cruised along the Grand Army of the Republic Highway (US-6), covering the remaining distance between the stop sign and Tonopah with the Fj drafting behind our trailer. No one was more surprised than I was when we turned north onto Erie Street and drifted into the first gas station we could find. I drive the Fj regularly and have fretted on multiple occasions when the low gas light illuminates, and I'm a dozen miles or so from a station. Knowing that Sean just covered more than 30 miles will give me some relief from future worries.
I know very little about Tonopah, Nevada; however, when Linda mentioned that the Color County Rock Club would get together to rockhound in a local quarry, I was excited to tag along.
The things I know about the Tonopah area are limited to two items. First, "pah" means water to the original inhabitants of the western United States, and any designation with the word "pah" as part of the name implies there is a water source. Tonopah, NV, probably started as a settlement because water is present. Second, mountains and mines are here in abundance. Mines would drag more settlers to this out-of-the-way spot.
Weeks before our trip, I had already mapped out a dozen mountain peaks I could climb and highlighted ATV/OHV trails in the area. I would not be rock hounding with the group; I planned on hiking and climbing this weekend, hence the reason for Sean driving the Fj as a second vehicle while Linda and I drove the truck, loaded with my quad and trailer.
We pulled to a stop at a small trailer park next to the highway and a Comfort Inn. The park was a row of plug-ins, sewer connectors, and gravel. We unhooked the trailer, and in a flash, Linda and Sean were off to a rock location to look for more gemstones. I stretched out the awning and sat in the shade, sipping an ice-cold diet coke.
Within minutes an older motorhome pulls up next to our location. The motorhome isn't "old" by any stretch; it is in excellent condition, just not new, or one of those massive bus homes on wheels. What struck me as funny was that as soon as the driver set the emergency brake, he jumped out. Wearing a Vietnam service hat with a voice that followed him out of the trailer. I didn't understand the words; however, the man replied, "as soon as possible."
Fumbling with his keys, the guy unlocks the side storage panel, and out comes a roll of coaxial cable. He begins to look around, and almost in a panic, he looks in my direction. I point to the cable TV hook-up. Nodding, he stretches the cable out. Too short. "Is it on yet?" comes the voice from the RV interior once again. "Not yet, I need the longer cable." The guy runs to the other side, dragging back the cable and power cord. Hooking both up with trembling fingers, he slaps the back of the motorhome two times before yelling, "good to go," and sighing with relief.
The man glances in my direction; I raise my coke in a mock toast and say, "how's it going?" I'll never forget the haunted look in his eyes; while shaking his head, he responds, "living the dream."
Written September 8, 2022
Adventure Map of: Tonapah, NV - CalTopo