This morning I picked up my rental car in Placerville, California, and headed in the direction of Placerville, Colorado–some 900 miles to the east. (For those coming late to this story, the details are here.)

As I left Placerville I passed this mural that honors John Albert “Snowshoe” Thompson, a Norwegian immigrant who settled in Placerville in the mid 19th century. Every winter for 20 years (1856-1876) he made a twice-monthly trip over the Sierra Nevada range to deliver the mail. He made the 90-mile trek on skis (despite his “Snowshoe” nickname) from Placerville to settlements in Nevada.

At some point Snowshoe Thompson moved his residence from Placerville to Genoa. In fact, Genoa became his final resting place.

Having appropriately honored this (quasi-)native son of Placerville, CA, it was time to continue my journey toward Placerville, CO. To do this, I passed through the “independent and sovereign nation” of Molossia.

What, you’ve never heard of Molossia? Neither had I. But it seems that there are about 11 acres of land in the town of Dayton, Nevada, whose owner (Kevin Baugh) has declared to be a sovereign nation. Molossia claims to have its own currency, postal service, navy, railroad, and various other trappings of a proper nation. President Baugh does have to pay property taxes to the county assessor, but he calls this “foreign aid.” Molassia’s back story is actually quite interesting and entertaining; if you’re interested, you should check their Wikipedia entry or their actual website.

The president of Molossia is very clear that you need to arrange your visit ahead of time. So a few weeks I emailed His Excellency, and got this response:

Undeterred, when I came to Dayton I drove up to the border of Molossia. Conveniently, there was an open parking spot.

The Molossian flag was flying proudly, and a sign made clear that I was indeed about to leave the United States.

A sign next to a bench even invited me to “take a seat in a foreign country.”

Despite my inability to secure a reservation, I decided to approach the customs building. Alas, it was locked up.

So I had no choice but to follow the signs back to the United States.

I plan to try to get on Molossia’s official tour list for 2026. When I have a date, I will announce it on this blog in case any of my loyal readers want to join my delegation. But for now, I had to bid a sad farewell to Molossia.

Almost all the remainder of today’s journey involved traveling US 50 across Nevada’s enchantingly bleak Great Basin. This stretch of highway is often called “The Loneliest Highway in America.” I’ve driven it several times (see my blog post here) and I always find it to be relaxing and contemplative. Today was no exception. Here are a few pictures to give you a sense of the landscape:

As the sunlight was wanting I stopped for the night in Ely, NV (pop: 3,900). Ely is well known for its superb railroad museum and heritage railway, but beyond that there isn’t much besides smoky casinos. I took a room at the Jailhouse Motel, whose reception desk is inside the adjoining smoky casino.

Also in the casino was something that passes for a bar, so I figured I’d try to get my Brew of the Day. But the beer selection was positively abysmal, and each seat at the bar was equipped with a huge, noisy video poker terminal. Looking at the bar’s sad patrons, I mumbled “terminal indeed,” and headed across the street to my room.

BRIDGE CORNER!

Although we don’t have a BOTD for today, we can offer you this 1906 railroad bridge over the Carson River in Fallon, NV:

As should be painfully obvious, this is a Pratt subdivided through-truss bridge. And, as a steel marker certifies, it’s made by the American Bridge Company of New York.

OK…thanks for indulging me. Tomorrow we’ll return to the BOTD.