When I got back into the part of the world with cell signal I immediately started calling all the agents and brokers I knew that could help me find a load home. I had thrown some feelers out on my way over but there is a problem with getting a load to go when you haven't gotten the one you're carrying off yet. I have been caught in the situation and everyone gets upset. Anyhow, I had no luck up to that point as northern NV is pretty empty and not too much manufacturing is going on so loads are scarce for people not from the area. The locals get all the loads going out though one slips through now and then and a lucky flatbedder heads out. So we get back to the truck stop there in Carlin on I-80 and I feverishly make calls knowing that no load meant we were going to be stuck there all weekend at least. Truck stops typically have what we call load boards. It is a tv monitor with all loads available including for what type of truck, the origin, destination, weight, broker, phone number, and sometimes the pay rate. I spent hours monitoring the monitor like an anxious stock broker. Eventually one popped up for Memphis, TN. A full heavy load to be picked up some 250 miles away. It's a long ways to deadhead (go empty) but it was my only chance so I made the call and set it up. We were going to pick up magnesium oxide. It sounds dangerous but I think it is a main ingredient in Tums or some other ant-acids.
We headed farther west on I-80 to a town called Battle Mountain. There wasn’t much there but it sure did have a monster of a mountain hovering over it. What an impressive sight! My son still talks about it two years later. At Battle Mountain we headed south on NV hwy 305. That highway is a pretty long stretch of nothingness with long views as the ground in front of us mostly sloped downwards and the sky opened for miles to either side before being abruptly shortened by the distant mountains. Along this road were occasional old military vehicles just sitting by the road with various weapon systems on them. I doubt seriously the missiles and guns on the trucks were any count but still an odd sight to see having not entered a military base (that I know of). Somewhere along the way there is this rest stop that consisted of a gravel turn off, a trash can, and a concrete slab style open air building about the size of an average living room. There were two bathrooms inside and no indication of what gender was to use which. So I went in one and Charles went in the other. I saw what looked like a fancy bucket sitting in one corner and nothing more. There was probably enough room in that “restroom” to place 50 buckets just like it in there. I eased over to the plastic structure coming out of the floor and peered down. I figured that this would be one of those environmentally conscious outhouse style jobs except there was no fancy bulletin with scientific explanations of what those freaks are going to do with my deposits. Then it occurred to me that they had no water anywhere close and this is the way it has to be done. At that moment I hear a rather loud voice call out to me, “hey dad, is this the toilet? This is gross! I can see a big pile about 10 feet down.” I chuckled to myself a little bit and yelled into the abyss, “yes son, that is the toilet, try not to plug it up.” He gave a chuckle in return and said, “at least there is some tp.” When we got back in the truck I sure was happy I kept a box of baby wipes with me. I tears me up not to have soap and water in the facilities.
The next turn was onto US highway 50. There was a sign proudly proclaiming it as “The Loneliest Road”. I am sure there is little argument over it. The town of Austin, NV was just to our left but we headed right into nothingness again. Somewhere on that strip of two lane travel was another interesting sight. Here it was in the middle of winter, in the middle of nowhere, in a place where even the stalwart cotton woods refused to grow was a tree covered in a strange foliage right by the road. I slowed down to a crawl and we creped by in disbelief at the big cotton wood tree covered in pairs of shoes. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’d ever seen but it ranked high in the weird category. All this stuff I am telling you about you can read about through various internet resources and you should. So onward to the next turn off a good ways away.
When we got to NV highway 361 that only went left (south), there was a sign welcoming us to “Middlegate Junction”. Okay I thought, so I wonder what we’re going to see. When we made the left, there was this little saloon looking building on the right with a big lot to pull into, so being a couple hours along after the last stop, we pulled in to see if there was any business being done. No cars or even a wisp of sound other that the wind sliding around the dried up thistles. Even though I have been in rodeos and roped a horse or two, I never felt closer to being a cowboy than exactly right then. I imagined the spurs on my boots as I walked up to the wood planked awning. I grabbed the door and it opened with ease, I looked inside and there was a lady standing behind a bar. There was also a couple tables, drink coolers and convenience items on shelves. She welcomed me in so I turned back to Charles who was waiting in the truck and motioned for him to c’mon. It was actually a decent little place. Before long a couple other folks came in that looked like the real deal desert dwellers. She asked if we were hungry as if she could see it in our eyes. In a few minutes we were sitting at one of the creaking tables enjoying bacon cheeseburgers. Those were probably some of the best burgers we’d ever had.
After introducing ourselves to the others we paid the bill and headed to the city of Gabbs where the magnesium oxide mine is. I guess it was nearly an hour, give or take, to the mine. We could see the city 30 or 40 minutes before we got there. I had compared it to being in a plane on approach for a long time. We finally got there and had to climb a steep incline up to the mine which was on the side of a mountain. It took a long time to get loaded because other trucks were there too, but it took even longer to cover the load in a tarp. After running the jakes (engine brakes) all the way down the steep grade we went back up 361 for a long slow rise back up to Middlegate Junction. By the time we got on our way it was pretty late and hours had passed. I needed fuel for the truck and the little Middle Gate Junction store had an old diesel pump just for folks like me. When we got back there were a couple cars there but a bunch of people. The place was sort of hopping. I went in to grab a couple sodas for the road and pay for fuel which was quite high. On my way out I there was a guy and a gal that were drunk and wanted to go with us back east. After getting a short story from them on what they knew about my area I finally got away.
Remember the snow storm that shut Denver down the week before Christmas of 2006? Well I found out it was about to start as I turned back on US Highway 50. I knew for sure that I-80 would be shut down so I had to figure out what to do. Going back south to I-40 was bad for several reasons on top of being several hundred miles out of the way. I called my father who grew up around 50 and asked him if it was a good road. He assured me it was a good road but there would be a couple mountains to climb. It also would cut my miles going east a good number as well as help dodge the storm. Well, even after everything that was about to happen, I still say it was the best choice.
It gets a bit crazy after this.
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