This morning I awoke to gentle rain on the tent, for which I was prepared but hadn’t really expected. I returned to the hot spring, filled the tub and took a nice morning soak. Although the ranch buildings are long gone, the hot springs remains on private land, thus the signs prohibiting camping and why I had camped a half mile away on public BLM land. I had put my clothes in the car to keep them dry, and so when I heard a vehicle approaching I stood up to see who it was. The old Dodge diesel flatbed pulling a cattle trailer clearly was a ranch truck, which pulled in, turned around and left without stopping. The message was clear: we’re checking on you. I considered that a great sign – this unique spot was cared for, and the ranchers see to that. I picked up the few bits of trash and a couple of bottles I found left there, respecting the gift be leaving it better than I found it.

I found my way through to US50 via some pretty slow and dusty back roads. I think I saw one vehicle in 75 miles, even now during huntin’ season. In tiny Eureka, Nevada I parked behind a motel to use their WiFi to write the last two posts, then continued east through Ely and on. I want to see Great Basin National Park, as it’s been years. This Park in far eastern Nevada is a sparsely visited gem. I’ll see it tomorrow morning, as at sunset I stopped at a well-maintained BLM campground, where I could set up camp before night.

A fresh lightning-caused fire in a remote area of rural eastern Nevada

And here I had an unexpected good encounter with a site neighbor, that I don’t recall ever having happened before. I had scoped out the camp, heading up to another section for a bit more privacy but rejecting it when I heard the drone of the generator in one of those high-end motor homes parked right in the center. So I selected a drive-up tent site and began to set up my tent. In short order a typical modern RV pulled into the next site, and the occupants soon started their generator. But here’s the surprise: within a couple of minutes a man gets out and walks my way, says his hello, and then volunteers that he will only be running the gennie for an hour or so to make dinner, and will then shut it off. I thanked him heartily for his thoughtfulness, and he went back to his RV – that’s all he came over for. And lo, in ten minutes the gennie was off and the quiet was restored.