Nowhere, Nevada on the Loneliest Road

 I slept in, in the shade provided by giant trees. A woman who is a friend of mine commented on the last post that she has always wished she felt safe doing isolated camping alone. I am much more aware of my white male privilege in regard to this incredible freedom than I used to be. Many of these national forest campsites are isolated, yet close to strange little towns. Even I sometimes wonder what the locals are like, and if I'm at any kind of risk. But these epic road trips of mine are usually completely unfettered by any worries, due to being a white male. It's egregiously unjust and we need to change this shit. 

 This is one of the eddies in the stream I camped next to, a tributary of the evocatively named Mad River. It looks like it's covered with algae but that's just the green of the trees reflected in the crystalline water. 

 Heading out toward Nevada, through some amazing northern California mountains. Many beautiful madrones, Arbutus sp. 

 Relatively suddenly, one drives close to Reno, is in a welter of crazy traffic, but then just as suddenly, is back in the middle of nowhere. I drove east on US Highway 50, often referred to as "The Loneliest Road," and it lived up to its name. I was headed for Toiyabe National Forest near Austin, Nevada, for more camping. 

 Percy incognito. Sun protection needed for the first time in a long time. Driving out 50 was weird also because of the thousands of Mormon crickets trying and failing to cross the road. The road itself is stained black with their guts. 

 Austin looked like a weird little town trying to capitalize on its Old West past. 

 I was a little surprised that Toiyabe National Forest was a juniper-piñon open woodland with Big Sage. It reminded me of the foothills of Santa Fe. It was hot, too. I hadn't been in a hot environment in many days. 

 It's always weird to see cacti again after weeks where they don't really occur. 

I was sad and lonely as the sun set, and I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. Maybe it was being back in a kind of warm, lower elevation environment, reminding me of the fact that I was now basically headed toward Tempe. Maybe it was the weird reminders of Santa Fe in the landscape. I might have just been exhausted. My shields were definitely down. I hurriedly ate some canned soup, brushed my teeth, climbed into my tent before the light was entirely gone. I had been toying with the idea of visiting a former student of mine in Salt Lake City. I decided I wanted to be back up in a cool, mountain camping spot as soon as possible though. If I had to go back to Arizona, at least I could do so via one of my favorite places, the Dixie National Forest in Utah. So I planned to drive there the next day.