July 16, 2016-Quiet Morning in the Desert

Elko to Wells, Nevada

Oct 30, 2024

Photo of the Lone Star Motel, an abandoned mid-century roadside motel. The "Lone Star Motel" sign is mid-century futuristic, like something from the Jetsons, with angular lines and rounded corners. "Lone Star" is in white script and "Motel" looks like it was written with a white magic marker. The neon tubes are visible but unlit and they are set in a faded green field. Below is "VACANCY" with space to the left to add "NO" and script letters below that say, "Sorry,". To the right, is the covered patio, the sagging white roof held up by simple red wooden posts whose paint is peeling. The patio leads to the OFFICE, another neon sign, white letters upon a red field. The shrub and grasses at the base of the sign are unkempt. To the left, the road leads to mountains in the distance.

[The story begins here… I recommend viewing on a laptop or desktop or even a tablet to let the photos breathe a little more and help convey the vastness of the American West.]

July 16, 2016 — Elko, Nevada

I sit at the same horseshoe shaped eating counter as last night but am accompanied by a different cast of characters for breakfast. One of the older gentleman is a retired motorcycle dealer. He watched me roll in last night and was confused by the Zero's lack of sound. I tell him about the bike and my trip.

I visit the local Walmart to get a heavier gauge extension cord to improve overnight charge times a little. And to not catch on fire, which is kind of important. I hit the road and it’s just 50 short miles to Wells.

A 25ft yellow extension cord, just purchased and still bound by it's paper sleeve, sits on top a yellow saddlebag. A label on the saddlebag says, "Ortlieb waterproof"

"If any of those who read this ever have ridden in one of the bowls made of slats that are known as cycle whirls, a very fair idea can be formed by them of what bouncing over railroad ties on a cycle is like unto. I have ridden an ordinary bicycle in a cycle whirl and know that it is similar in the sensation it affords to that of cycling over the ties. Before I had traveled half of the desert I was having trouble with my inner organs, and violent pains in the region of the kidneys compelled occasional dismounts and rests."

George A Wyman

Remember that perfectly fine motor bicycle that you made a couple of days ago and then hacksawed half of the handlebar off? Imagine riding it from San Francisco, over the Sierra Nevada, and into the desert, riding it over railway ties with a cross section of approximately 6" x 8" and spaced anywhere from 18" to 21" apart. If you are feeling generous, imagine that they have some ballast (stones) filling the gap between them. Imagine the beating that the bike and you would take. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. For hundreds of miles and all the live long day. Wyman claimed that he could go as fast as 12 mph bumping along the railroad. That’s it. It’s no wonder his kidneys hurt; mine hurt just thinking about it.

May 25, 1903 — Wells, Nevada

"Wells is a division town of about 200 population, with the biggest hotel I had seen since leaving Reno. The dining room there for railroad passengers would have seated the whole population of the place. They feed largely for 50 cents a meal, and I never left anything on the dishes. Riding over the ties must have jolted my food down to my boots; I was always empty, and I doubt if any restaurant made anything on me, even the high priced ones, where they charge 50 cents a meal.

At Wells I had to tighten up the spokes of the wheels on my Motor-cycle, as I often did at other places. Pounding over the ties was a terrible strain on the bicycle. I marveled every day that it stood it so well."

- George A Wyman

The early morning cool wilts under the rising sun and is replaced by a dry heat that builds and multiplies with every mile. I pull off I-80 into Wells and roll through empty streets with neat rows of low flat houses and empty storefronts. 7th Street, beside the railroad tracks, is empty too, some of the buildings on the verge of collapse. I'm feeling like I'm the only fool out here before I see two women standing with a table of vegetables in the shade of a gazebo. They are the farmer's market and they direct me to the local Chamber of Commerce, which also hosts the local museum. But first, I need a charge.

Crossroads RV Park is a scraggly corner lot of dry, sandy soil with a couple of shade trees on the edge of town. It's empty except for a couple of RVs that look like they have neither recreated or vehicled in years. The office is empty too but I call the phone number listed on a piece of paper taped to the door. Ring…"yeah, I need to charge my electric motorcycle…take the spot by the office?…ok…put the money in the slot?…ok…thanks." It's only when I try to hookup do I realize that they don’t have the 50 amp hookups. And I don't have the proper adapter for their 35 amp connection. But rather than go to an RV park farther from town and walk back in this heat, I commandeer two 120V outlets from adjacent spots and use the on-board standard charger and the Delta Q Quiq Charger together. It'll be slower than a 50 amp hookup but it will have to do.

Photo of Zero electric motorcycle parked partially in the shade of a small RV park. There are patches of grass and weeds near the wooden pole on the left that contains one of the plugs that the electric motorcycle is plugged into. On the right, a cord frons from the motorcycle to a shoe-box sized transformer sitting in the shade on the ground. Another cord runs from the box to another plug to the right, just beyond the frame.

I shed my riding gear and amble slowly to town, seeking the shade and trying not to sweat.

Photo looking across an empty street at an abandoned motel. It is a bright, sunny day with just a handful of clouds dotting the sky. A tall, 30 foot pole stands on the curb with the motel's old lighted sign at the top, but the name has been removed. A small, empty pool is near the entrance, surrounded by a simple black metal fence. The motel is u-shaped with a central courtyard/parking area. Tall weeds grow through cracks in the pavement. Trees grow behind the motel and jagged mountains can be seen in the distance.

Towns like Wells are layered like an onion, with the oldest buildings by the railroad and newer structure out by the interstate. As I walk, I cut through the the layers of the onion and travel back in time, past abandoned mid-century motels with their paint peeling and wood weathering under the relentless sun and past other older building until I get to the older center of town.

Photo looking across an empty street at two modest buildings. To the right is a low, one and a half-story, flat roofed, white building with two doors (also white), three taller windows to the right, and long, narrow, windows along the left. The building is a simple rectangle without any adornments. To the left is a two story red brick building with white trim with big plate glass windows on either side of the glass door entrance on the first floor and three large windows on the third floor. One sign on the left of the building says, "Trail of the 49ers Interpretive Center" while the sign on the right says, "WELLS Chamber of Commerce" To the left of the building, parked on the street, is a late model Toyota compact sedan, silver. Some green trees can be seen on the left and above the white building to the right.

The Chamber of Commerce hosts a little local museum with artifacts from days gone by and they help me find photos of the town from the early 1900s. I look at one photo - the road is muddy, there is a horse drawn carriage, and there’s a saloon. I ask Bob, whose been helping me find period photos in their collection, if this photo is from Wyman’s era. "No, this is later than 1903" Bob says, flatly, before pointing to the lone woman in the photo and explaining, "You can see her ankles."

Old black and white photo of a street in Wells, Nevada. The wide street is dirt, some areas worn by the traffic of horse-drawn carriages. Alongside the road is a row of old buildings - wooden C.A. Wiseman Garage with large garage door and various windows, the brick Wells Market, with an awning over the sidewalk, the wooden Mint Saloon with the words painted right on the wooden clapboard, the two-story brick Newhouse building with the building name set high on the second floor just beneath the cornice, and several more brick and wooden buildings, most one-story, some two stories. There are electrical poles along the sidewalk and a flagpole with flag partway down the street. There are a couple of horse-drawn carriages at the end of the block. A couple of people stand outside C.A. Wiseman Garage, a man in a suit and woman in a long dark coat that reaches to her calves. — Photo: Wells Chamber of Commerce

I head out to the oldest part of town by the railroad tracks, the part of town depicted in the old photo. Wyman slept here but much of the town's history was wiped out by a 6.0 earthquake in 2008 that knocked out a whole row of buildings by the railroad track, including the hotel that Wyman likely stayed at. Today, it's just a pile of rubble while the neighboring buildings, some with their facades shorn off, await demolition. I grab lunch in a bar with good air conditioning and then get back to the Zero and hit the road.

Photo of a red brick building damaged by the 2008 earthquake. The front of the building is covered with a large black tarpaulin that is sagging in the middle, revealing plywood covering the front windows. Above, "S. Quilici & Sons, Since 1928" is painted in black letters on white masonry. The top of the building is shorn off. To the left, the now-exposed side of the building reveals crumbling bricks along the top and bottom of the building, and what was once an adjacent building is now a field filled with debris and wild grasses. A "Private Property" sign is fastened to the large black tarpaulin. To the right is another destroyed building, two stories with plywood covering windows on the first floor and the second story facade completely gone, revealing the studs and joists of the building. — Interesting backstory of this family business: https://quilici.us/LBQ/

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Following Wyman: An Electric Motorcycle Adventure

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