Austin to Frenchman

September 13, 2023

7.3

“Life Elevated” is the current slogan for the state of Utah. The phrase could also apply to our status here in Nevada, thus far. Since having entered the Silver State last Friday, we haven’t been below 5000 feet elevation. A good bit of the time has been above 6000 feet and there has been significant quality time above 7000 feet. That would all change today when we left Austin.

A much photographed character at the Union Street Lodge, in Austin.

But first, we had a great breakfast at the Union Street Lodge. We got a later than planned start due to conversation with the proprietor and Scott, another guest at the lodge. Eventually, the talk ended and it was time for action. Chuck and I mounted our steeds and headed out of town.

Mining was big all over Nevada. Remnants, past and present, can be seen everywhere.

Because Austin is built into the side of a mountain, we were only part way down from the summit when we arrived last evening. This morning, we were headed all the way down and out of town.

The view ahead as we continued down the mountain and out of Austin.

Many miles went by relatively quickly. Even after the dramatic part of the descent ended, we were riding on a flat appearing road that was continuing to descend. Going east to west, as we were doing, I believe is easier than traveling Highway 50 in the opposite direction.

Middle Gate, some 63 miles away, was a marker for us. Since it is in the middle of nowhere, we planned to see how we felt upon arrival. Fallon was 112 miles from Austin. Things would have to go very well in order to get there in one day. The late start all but eliminated that possibility.

Although we were making very good time on the bikes, I disciplined myself to stop, smell the rabbit brush, take in the beauty and the history of the area.

The Pony Express route was here and at least a small part of it can still be seen.

The Pony Express route went through this area and you see tributes to it everywhere. A couple of signs were placed in the exact spot where the route crossed Route 50. Although it only lasted 18 months, the first transcontinental mail delivery service and the people who participated are part of the lore of the old west. Young horsemen rode up to 200 miles per day across desolate landscape between St. Joseph, Missouri and Sacramento, California. A series of stations were set up and staffed so horses could be changed out. The riders rested and “refueled” at these stations. The target goal for the journey was 10 days. Their route followed Highway 50 across Central Nevada as we are doing. Pretty amazing, especially back then when even the meager points of civilization, that are found today, did not exist.

Majors Station, roughly where I finished a segment of this trip (last Saturday), was one of the stops. Alexander Majors was one of 3 men who organized the Pony Express operation and ran it.

When the telegraph system came online, the Pony Express went out of business. But, it remains an amazing feat of organization, bravery, and endurance that is still admired and celebrated today, especially around here.

Chuck and I had a couple of passes to climb, Mount Airy and New. Both seemed like child’s play after what we had experienced in the past few days. We must be getting used to riding this terrain here in Nevada.

Coming down from New Pass, we entered Churchill County. Highway 50 runs for 106 miles in this huge county. The approach was yet another beautiful valley with more mountains in the distance. Part way down the pass was another former stage coach and Pony Express stop. All that is left of the building is the rocks that make up the walls.

Highway 50, in Churchill County. The rumble strip and roughness made the shoulder un-rideable.

A few miles inside the county, the road quality changed out there for no apparent reason. The great road surface and nice shoulder that we had been enjoying gave way to one that was bumpy and had an unusable shoulder. It was disappointing but there was nothing to be done except to continue riding.

Historical marker for the Pony Express at Cold Spring.

Cold Spring was the next landmark. It too was a Pony Express Station. These days, it is a stop on a lonely highway for food and drink. It wasn’t open when we went by but we were told they make good Bloody Marys.

The Pony Express Stations in this area were called gates because the narrow spot between the mountains looked like a gate to the organizers.

The three Pony Express Stations further to the west are referred to as gates, East, Middle, and West. The story is that they were named as such because the passes through the mountains looked like gates. Of the three, Middle Gate is the only place where anything is going on today. We had heard the burgers there were the best around, so it was definitely going to be a stop for us.

While we were dining, Michel came into the restaurant and joined us. He had taken the Carroll Summit (Adventure Cycling's) alternative route. He said it had far less traffic than Route 50. This might be a good time to talk briefly about the road we have been following across Nevada.

US Route 50 is called the loneliest highway in America. From what we have seen on this tour in 2023, while it may have been true at one time, it is no longer very lonely today. For my money, US-93 or Utah-21 are far less traveled.

Additionally, Route 50 could use an upgrade to make the shoulders wider and usable for cycling along its full length. Although traffic volume is relatively low, there is enough of it to create an element of danger. This is especially true where the shoulders are either non-existent or unusable.

Michel, in the Fairview Peak area. This is on the way to a small area, ironically called Frenchman, on the map.

After Middle Gate, Michel decided to join us again. Those burgers fueled us through 16 more miles so we could finish the day at a spot on the map, ironically called Frenchman. It lies roughly at the intersection of 50 and Nevada Route 839, the latter of which is also called Nevada Sheelite Mine Road. There are Army and a Naval operations nearby. Loud military planes were regularly flying overhead. We called it a day at this spot. Fallon will have to wait until tomorrow. Lynn shuttled us into Fallon, where we had lodging reserved. Michel stayed with us.

In the grocery store, we struck up a conversation with a fellow in an Army uniform. Turned out, he is from Pittsburgh. Also learned that George, the fellow I rode with back in the Chicago area, was stationed in Fallon at the Naval Air Station, back in the 1970s. He went from Fallon to Vietnam.

Today's ride: 79 miles (127 km)
Total: 748 miles (1,204 km)

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