Day 7: Delta to Lake Tahoe; 520 miles; “The Loneliest Road in America”

[From 2009]

Route 50 is promoted as “The Loneliest Road in America”, and in a sense it is.  Chalk-line straight for miles and miles and miles, it’s interrupted only periodically from climbs to cut through mountain notches.  This is an utterly foreign concept to native Northeasterners.  Back home, everywhere we look, there are hills, buildings, forests.  Out here, you can see the parallel road lines receding to the horizon.

And while the pavement isn’t perfect, RT 50 is otherwise a great place to go fast and enjoy the scenery.  You typically have a one or more minute warning as to oncoming traffic, with virtually no cross streets or, for that matter, any signs of human existence, other than the asphalt.  So we take this as yet another opportunity to exercise the 16M and Mantide, easily reaching some impressive speeds.  

The exhaust on the Ferrari opens up above 3,000 RPM, and turns into a rage-filled snarl accelerating past 5,000 RPM.  This sound is utterly irresistible.  The best way to hear it, of course, is to be doing 120 mph in the Mantide and have the Ferrari blow by you going at least 30 mph faster.  For one 20 mile stretch, I averaged 120 mph in the Ferrari.  I don’t know if it’s more impressive or less impressive to add that the entire 20 mile high-speed stretch required not one application of the brakes or more than a minimal turn of the steering wheel.  As an aside,  we leave Delta, Utah at 8:35 am, and cross into Nevada, at 90 miles later, at 8:40 am – technically, 750 mph!

We’re not the only fast movers on RT 50.  Aside from the aforementioned pickups and SUVs not wasting time, even a Prius was doing over 90 mph coming down out of the mountains.  As we cruise through Nevada, we pass through some small towns, many of which are faded relics of their glorious, bygone eras.  This is reminiscent of nothing so much as the town of Radiator Springs from Cars. 

We stopped for a mighty fine burger with onion rings and chili in at the Owl Club & Steak House in Eureka.  Leaving town, we had our only close encounter with law enforcement on the trip:  a sheriff heading East shot us with radar.  Luckily, we were still digesting the chili and weren’t going much more than 80 mph.  The sheriff hit his flashing lights, but didn’t even slow down – just a warning to us to play nice.  Another sheriff gave both cars a nice wave as we passed through Cold Springs. Ah, Nevada is most excellent!

By the late afternoon, we drive through Carson City and arrive at Lake Tahoe.  While we’ve seen plenty of beautiful scenery on this trip, Tahoe added a big water feature to our panoramic memory gallery.  We’re spending the night in suites at the Village at Squaw Valley, a bucolic ski development very similar to Tremblant and Whistler.  

For once, we’re not rushing to dinner or bed!  Mark has caught up to us here, having stopped for a quick drive across the Bonneville Salt Flats in the 612 – hey, it’s aluminum, right?  Glenn’s brother Bob has also joined us for the final leg, arriving in his Ferrari Challenge Stradale.  We feast on sushi and sake, delighted with the drive thus far but also cheerful at almost being done.