Ah, yes, heading east into flat southwestern Oregon.
There are NOT a lot of people driving around out there . . .
. . . thankfully. It's pristine and gorgeous and empty.
We met these guys at a campground near Ashland.
They're The New Frontiers, a band from Dallas, Texas. Aren't they cute? Plus they totally rock. Listen to them on their site. Seeing them spill out from their van was such a nice change from the usual old timers we meet on the road. Nothing against old-timers, of course. But it's nice to talk to the young 'uns sometimes too. Especially rockin' ones.
Two of them had new Texas tattoos they were very pleased with.
We met this guy, too, driving through Sheldon National Wildlife Refuge, as soon as we crossed into Nevada.
Aw-ah. Isn't he adorable?
Nevada is a great traveling state because, well, it's pristine and gorgeous and empty, and you can never quite believe you're in Nevada.
We stopped in the Humbolt-Toiyabe National Forest, near Paradise Valley, for the night. Forests do not have to be full of trees, you know. That's Mistah Schleckah in the distance.
And there's ol' Westy. That was a camping spot for the ages.
The mountains and the moon were our only friends for miles and miles . . .
. . . and called it a night.
In the morning it was just as dreamy . . .
Mistah Schleckah has always been the absolute epitome of camping high-fashion.
Who wouldn't hire this man?
"Move it along, fellers."
Ah, the nature-and-barb-wire shot. I love the nature-and-barb-wire shot.
Non-barb-wire is pretty dramatic, too.
We carried on, across northeastern Nevada . . .
. . . until we reached the border of Utah. And at West Wendover . . .
. . . we camped under the watchful eye of this guy. He's some kind of casino sign or something, on the Nevada-slash-sin side of the border, calling all those pure-as-the-driven-snow-Utahans over to the dark side.