Nevada-Oregon Trip, Day 1: From the Bustle of Vegas to the Absolute Quiet of Route 50

Nevada-Oregon Trip, Prologue: Driving into Contrasts – 16 Days in Nevada and Oregon

Giving myself an experience-packed 60th birthday present.

This journey wasn't born out of a search for comfort, but from a deep, inner urge to disconnect from the routine, leave civilization behind, and surrender completely to the rhythm of nature.

I set out from Las Vegas for an intensive, packed, and experience-filled 16-day journey, where I stitched together a massive loop through the American West—traveling through the empty expanses of Nevada, the forests and coasts of Oregon, Mount St. Helens in Washington, and the desert of eastern California.

It was a journey of extremes and crazy statistics, during which I swallowed 4,700 miles of driving, spent about $1,400 on gas, and my watch showed close to 300,000 footsteps.

Beyond the numbers, the real story of this trip is its extreme climatic and natural diversity, a direct and pure encounter with the forces of nature that completely changed almost every single day. I experienced a sharp, dramatic transition from the burning, harsh deserts of Nevada and California, where the thermometer climbed to an extreme 41 degrees Celsius (106 degrees Fahrenheit), to a freezing, raging blizzard at the elevation of Mount St. Helens in Washington State.

I cut from the scorching, dusty dryness of the open deserts into the pouring rain and fog of the Pacific coast in Oregon. I flew across the white, smooth, and endless salt flats of the Nevada playa, and in the following days, found myself walking through thick forests alongside countless rushing waterfalls, frozen alpine lakes, and massive volcanic calderas.

The Road: Solo Driving and Dispersed Camping

Throughout all these 16 days, I combined long, demanding jeep driving deep into the most empty and remote backcountry, places where the horizon is completely empty and there isn't a living soul around. I explored dark lava tubes in the belly of the earth, climbed the highest sand dunes on the continent, and navigated inside narrow, rocky slot canyons that change their face after every flash flood.

To maintain a total, unmediated, and pure connection to the terrain, I gave up on hotels, except for just one single night along the entire trip. On all the other days, I slept in the back, inside my jeep, alternating between established campgrounds in parks and completely wild, solo nights on open public lands (BLM).

Sleeping in the field added tremendous power to the experience; each day ended with watching a desert or alpine sunset against clear skies, deep sleep in the belly of nature, and waking up early with the first light facing the sunrise.

The Chain of Parks and Thermal Springs

The route led me to visit 4 different states and 4 major national parks and monuments, each representing a unique natural phenomenon: from the deep blue volcanic crater of Crater Lake, through the ancient forests of the Redwoods, the volcanic destruction of Mount St. Helens, to the dramatic aridity of Death Valley.

And to soothe my muscles and wash off the road dust, I integrated bathing and soaking in 12 hidden, wild hot springs along the axis, ranging from wooden troughs or rock pools in the heart of a rainy rainforest to magical concrete and rock pools under the shade of palm trees in the heart of the burning desert.

This journey pushed the limits of my capability, demanding that I leave my ego at home and make balanced, cold, and calculated decisions in the face of weather hazards and navigability obstacles.

I returned home with a dusty jeep, a bumper tied with rope, memory cards full of phenomenal landscape photographs, and above all, with an inner peace and strength that can only be born from a long, independent drive into the void.

This is my travel journal. Let’s start with the first day.

Nevada-Oregon Trip, Day 1: From the Bustle of Vegas to the Absolute Quiet of Route 50

A long and crazy day of 513 miles opens the journey in May 2026.

I started the trip in the morning, packed all the gear for the trip into the vehicle, started driving, and left behind the noise and familiar hustle of Las Vegas.

This contrast, when you leave this crazy city and get pulled straight into the absolute quiet of the surrounding deserts, always does something to my heart. Climbing up the main highway, I-15, and after half an hour turning onto Highway 93 North, the endless desert opened up before me in all its glory.

At the junction between Highway 93 and Highway 318, Highway 375 officially begins, known as the "Extraterrestrial Highway."

This isolated desert intersection, located in the heart of Nevada, serves as the official gateway for fans of conspiracy theories, aliens, and science fiction, due to its proximity to the secret military base "Area 51." Travelers passing through the intersection and continuing west onto Highway 375 are immediately exposed to signs warning of "extraterrestrial crossings," arid landscapes, and a mysterious, intriguing atmosphere that has drawn curious people looking for evidence of life outside Earth for decades. I took a few pictures and continued driving north on Highway 318.

My first stop driving on the isolated Highway 318 was Lund Hot Springs Creek, a place that feels like a real oasis popping up out of nowhere in the heart of Nevada's high desert.

It is part of the Wayne E. Kirch Wildlife Management Area, an entire zone of marshes and reservoirs that attract a huge variety of wildlife and waterfowl, creating a stunning, green contrast between the clear water and the arid landscape around it.

The creek itself is fed by a natural thermal spring, and its water is characterized by a deep turquoise color and exceptional clarity that allows you to see every little stone on the bottom. Unlike other hot springs that are sometimes too boiling to bathe in, the water here maintains a constant, very pleasant temperature of about 30 degrees Celsius (86 degrees Fahrenheit) throughout the year.

The place is even designated as a national heritage site because it forms a protected habitat for rare and endemic fish unique to this valley.

I got into the pleasant water and bathed at several different spots along the flowing creek. I was completely alone there, and I spent a whole hour of pure quiet and relaxation, with the surrounding desert completely still. The clear water and moderate flow provided the perfect, most refreshing pause from the long drive on the roads.

As I was leaving the area, I noticed that there is also an organized and well-maintained campground nearby called Dave Deacon, located a short distance from the springs. This camping spot offers a direct connection to nature with spacious sites, shaded picnic tables, and even toilets, and it is considered a popular spot for local fishermen who come with kayaks to the adjacent reservoirs. This is an excellent point for anyone who wants to spend a quiet night here under crazy starry skies, though my clock urged me to move along the route.

Visiting and bathing in hot springs in the middle of the desert, what a perfect start to the trip!

From the hot springs, I decided to cut through the dirt and continue into the iconic off-road drive in eastern Nevada—the dirt road of Cave Valley (Cave Valley Road).

The path serves as a backway that connects the hot springs area I visited directly to the historic park of charcoal ovens (Ward Charcoal Ovens State Historic Park).

This is a classic Great Basin desert off-road route.

The track begins by crossing the wide Cave Valley, and later, as you climb north along the axis, the road hugs the base of the Egan Range. The landscape changes from open, arid expanses of sagebrush into rolling hills and thickening forests of juniper and pine trees.

The main part of Cave Valley Road is defined as a graded and maintained dirt road, admittedly very dusty, ribbed with small washboard ripples and small, dry water crossings (washouts), but it can be crossed relatively easily with a high-clearance vehicle. It is quite an isolated axis with no cell service, so it requires preparation for offline navigation.

At one of the intersections, I saw several horses that were really close to the trail.

Overall, it was a beautiful, not-too-difficult off-road drive that led me through the terrain directly to Ward Charcoal Ovens State Historic Park.

These structures are very impressive, six huge stone ovens shaped like beehives. I learned that they were built in the 1870s with the goal of producing high-quality charcoal from the thousands of pine and juniper trees growing on the surrounding mountains, charcoal that was later sent to the mining industry in the area.

My next stop was the town of Ely, which is the largest and central city in this region.

I had been here in the past, so I didn't linger too much. I passed by the historic train station there, which looks as if time has stood still, and from there I drove west on the main street to absorb a bit of a Wild West town atmosphere (there was roadwork on the main road, so I didn't stop).

Outside of town, I went up to Garnet Hill—a special volcanic hill where I spent some time searching for reddish garnet gemstones hidden inside the rocks.

From Ely, I got onto the famous US-50—"The Loneliest Road in America."

Driving on Route 50 in Nevada is an experience that completely changes your perception of space and time. The road moves in a steady rhythm of climbing and crossing high mountain ranges, where there is still snow, and then descending into massive, arid, and completely flat desert valleys stretched out to the horizon.

Only when you cross these geological waves again and again, as the landscape alternates between mountain forests and silent desert wasteland, do you really begin to digest the crazy dimensions of Nevada and the intensity of the remoteness and isolation of this wild space.

I passed without stopping by the small, isolated towns of Eureka and Austin, and stopped for a moment at the isolated Cold Springs Station as well.

After I passed Eureka, I broke away from the highway again for a short off-road drive that brought me to Spencer Hot Springs.

There were a few vehicles here, but they weren't at the springs, rather scattered around the area. These springs are simply wonderful, I took off my clothes and got in to bathe inside the hot water, the late afternoon hour before sunset, and the open desert landscape reflecting from every direction.

This is the time to say that, contrary to the great conservatism usually found around natural hot springs in the US, even if informally, wearing a swimsuit is an option and most people bathe naked, though you can bathe in a swimsuit with no problem. Keep this in mind if you are traveling with kids.

I dried off, got dressed, and returned to the main road.

From there, I continued driving west.

On the way, I stopped only to take a picture at a point in the middle of nowhere called Cold Springs, which in the past was a way station on the route called the Pony Express.

Pony Express:

Driving along US-50 in Nevada today, it is hard to imagine that one of the most daring mail services in the history of the United States once passed here. The Pony Express operated for only about a year and a half, between 1860 and 1861, delivering letters at unprecedented speed between Missouri and California—a journey of about 3,000 kilometers that took only about ten days.

Nevada was one of the most challenging segments along the route. The riders crossed about 450 miles of isolated deserts, valleys, and mountain ranges under harsh conditions of heat, cold, and lack of water. Along the way, horse-station exchanges were established at short intervals, allowing riders to maintain a fast pace with almost no stops.

Although the Pony Express became an American legend, it operated for a very short period. With the completion of the transcontinental telegraph line in 1861, messages could be transmitted within minutes instead of days, and the mail service on horseback became redundant.

Today, many travelers in Nevada drive parallel to the historic route without noticing it. Along US-50, known as "The Loneliest Road in America," you can still find remnants of Pony Express stations, a reminder of a time when rapid communication required a galloping horse, courage, and a whole lot of determination.

Not far from the town of Middlegate, a town in this area is no more than a gas station and a few trailers and old houses nearby, stands one of the most bizarre landmarks you can find on an American road trip on Route 50 in Nevada: The Shoe Tree.

It is a huge cottonwood tree where hundreds of travelers, truck drivers, and locals have hung pairs of shoes of all types and colors, thrown onto the high branches and hung by their laces.

The story behind this tradition is part of local desert folklore.

Legend has it that it all started in the 80s or 90s of the last century, following a fierce argument between a young couple who were on their way to a wedding or vacation. The new husband or fiancé threw his wife's shoes onto the branches of the tree out of anger, and disappeared to the nearest gas station in Middlegate to drink a beer and calm down. When he returned, the two made up, and in the end, they threw his shoes onto the same tree as a sign of reconciliation. From there, the custom went viral (even before the internet era), and every traveler passing by turned throwing shoes into a sort of rite of passage indicating that they survived "The Loneliest Road in America."

A strange detail in the history of the place occurred at the end of 2010, when the original tree was cut down in an act of ugly vandalism by unknown persons, but, true to the spirit of Nevada, the tradition refused to die. Within a very short time, travelers and locals "adopted" another large tree located right nearby, and began throwing shoes at it anew.

Today, the new tree is already completely loaded and stands as living proof that even in the middle of the desert wasteland, American road trip culture always finds a way to leave a mark.

Toward evening, I arrived at the dune area of the Sand Mountain Recreational Area, the place where I planned to sleep.

In practice, when I arrived, the site was noisy and full of ATVs, off-road vehicles, and buggies that didn't stop making noise.

I understood immediately that I wouldn't find my quiet there. I cut into a remote side trail, deeper into the open desert. There, far from the hustle and bustle of the off-road vehicles, I found my quiet corner, parked the car, and went to sleep under skies exploding with stars.