(Great Basin National Park)
(Snow in Nevada…. in July…)
(Hey, how did we get here??)
(Sure was lonely)
“I have compared Baker with Paris, in the sense that it is a collection of hospitalities and if you spend a day in town you will know what I mean. This tiny settlement in the Snake Valley a few miles from the Utah line is the capital of an enchanted realm in the high summits of Great Basin National Park, the subterranean mysteries of the Lehman Caves and the sleepy village itself, where peace competes with quiet to be the main attraction. It is nearly metropolitan now, with T&D’s store offering all provisions (including the good beer and wine with corks!). And you can always sip a cool drink on the porch while watching the clouds drift by”
This is precisely the feeling that we got as we crossed the border into our first little town in Nevada. With a population of only 65 permanent residents, most of the locals worked either as Ranchers in the area or Rangers at the Great Basin National Park which was only 5 miles west of Baker. Most of the riders decided to visit the national park and go for a short hike in the mountains. Some even reached the snow!
Nearly a quarter of the residents joined us for a huge dinner at the little church in town; whether on the move biking across the country or living in a tiny town, we had something special in common with the locals; we were both part of a small community helping one another.
Baker began our journey on Highway 50 in Nevada. And if other towns were going to be as hospitable and kind as Baker, we were in great shape to survive the loneliest road in America.









