Fortunately, the aliens never arrived, and so the day of anal reckoning has been pushed to some point in the future. Wow, we really did make it out here near Groom Lake and can now lay claim to having spent a night in the shadows of the aliens of Area 51 as well as Roswell, New Mexico. I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed we’ve not yet been chosen for abduction as I’m prepared to meet the little green men face-to-face. Then again, how do we know that the people of the Little A’Le’Inn and its restaurant out here in Rachel, Nevada, weren’t aliens in disguise?

Not even one spaceship, hitchhiking alien, lost probe, or mutilated cow next to the road here on Highway 375 better known as the Extraterrestrial Highway.

Caroline and I are always surprised by the beautiful weather we are so lucky to travel with. We’ve commented dozens of times how, even on the less than ideal days, we’ll still spot some blue sky, which never fails to put smiles on our faces and lend a kind of perfection to the day.

Rustic farmland is like a rainbow under the blue sky, and while it may be an idealized perception not taking into account the toil and hardship likely experienced here during harder times, it remains part of the attraction of exploring America’s remote corners.

Here we are nearly a year to the date back in Austin, Nevada, where the E.T. Highway brought us to The Loneliest Road in America: Interstate 50. In this link, you will find a photo of this place, seven images down from the top.

Is that a crop circle out there?

Seems that the aliens were late: I’m not actually driving at 120 mph; we’ve been abducted and are being transferred to the mother ship through some kind of induction system that has us traveling vertically, seriously! Also, the clock stopped around this time.

Woah! And then all of a sudden, we were delivered to Nevada Highway 140 and we have no recollection of how we got here. Well, at least the sky is still blue, and the car is no longer traveling at 120 mph.

Hmmm, this looks like a good place to sneak into Oregon. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to secure a visa allowing us to travel into this state, and our passports explicitly forbid us from traveling into the Pacific Northwest under our current status, but that wasn’t going to stop these two desperados from breaking in.

Of course, by taking this route into Oregon, we have to pass through no man’s land where nothing exists but vast stretches of nothingness. This particular nothingness is a photo reminder to someday return to the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge.

Even the sun is removed from the sky in the continuing void of eastern Oregon that stretches on like a desert of lost dreams.

Then, finally, as we start to approach the middle of the state, civilization remakes its appearance, and the fading sun beyond the horizon reassures us that tomorrow promises to be a wonderful day in the lush green lands of the Pacific Northwest.