Monday, I think

Nevada, at least the western portion that we visited was awesome. They brag that Hwy 50 is the Lonesomest Road, but Hwy 95 south must come in a close second.
Lets see, we were in Fallon at the Naval Air Station. They train "top guns" there and there was a static display of jets that was really something to see, but the weather was cold, raining and miserable and reminded us of home, so we stayed inside and enjoyed the warm, and got our laundry done... for free. Can't beat that.

Monday, as we departed, the sun came out and the landscape turned from farms to desert in a matter of a mile or so. We laughed at the occasional "Wildlife Viewing" sign, because our sum total of wildlife has been was a deer in Oregon and a coyote in California. Hawks occasionally, if they count, but I sure wouldn't pull off the road for that. Every once in a while we would see a herd of cattle, but Roy doesn't believe they can be considered wildlife. To break up the monotony, a town would pop up, but they always seemed to be on the brink of extinction. Gas stations would be closed and windows boarded up, motels would have a hopeful "For Sale" sign fading in the sun. Walker Lake, like Pyramid had narry a tree. A ranger we spoke to speculated that cattle had probably denuded the area, but you would think one tree would have survived.

Then we came to Hawthorn, NV and Roy kepi saying that it looked, off in the distance like army bunkers. Sure enough, there was both an Army Depot and a Navy Underwater Warfare Training Department - now that's a stretch, the lake was miles in to the north.

Our stop for the night was in Mina, NV and talk about a ghost town, this little town was mostly empty, decaying buildings, dusty dirt roads, dying vegetation..... (see picture) but it had the most awesome little RV park, cheap, clean, WiFi, no TV but we have satellite, so that didn't matter.

We are at that point, we have been gone for a week and I have to really think about what day it is. The only time I think about the time is Roy is keeping a log and asks me when we arrived and when we departed. This is great living.