Alien Cover-ups on I-80

For a few years, my sister practically lived in her car as she drove back and forth across the country. She told me Nebraska was the worst state to drive across. I know Wyoming is monotonous as monotonous can be, but most of all I really do not enjoy driving across Nevada.

On our weekend trip my wife complained, "I want to drive! I hate my job on roadtrips. I'm the butler! The backseat butler!"

I said, "You're the backseat butt-somethin'." Cause I'm witty like that. I also told her how it was no picnic being the driver on this long, long, straight, long highway. If I lost focus or fell asleep and swerved off the road I was likely to steer us right into a missile testing range or something. Now that's pressure.

I'm sure a lot of people think about the Vegas strip, slot machines on the way to the gas station bathrooms, or legalized prostitution when they think of Nevada, but I always think about trying to make it from Wendover to Reno on Interstate 80 using one tank of gas. Anything cool that lives in the desert tries to hide itself in a nook or cranny and then protects itself with quills. If you plan to see Nevada from the seat of your car there is little aside from sage brush and lumpy hills. But here are some of the more thought provoking sites:

For as long as I can remember, I can't pass this plant outside of Reno without thinking the lake is full of robotic fish. You have to pass security check points to even approach the place.
This house is a few miles outside of Winnemucca. Living in Winnemucca would be bad, but living a-few-miles-outside-of-Winnemucca? I would rather lie to people. We see this house and wonder why it exists and who in their right mind would live there. Meth house? Wayward checkpoint for trafficking kidnapped children? I decided to solve the mystery by going up to the house and speaking with the owner. I expected to find a houseful of massacred bodies but it turns out this residence is simply known as "Area 52" where the government houses tin foil costumes worn by interstellar conquistadors. It's just a houseful of walk-in closets. It isn't as Top Secret as the better-known Area 51, so if you're caught trespassing an old man comes out on the lawn and sprays you with the hose.

Every time I pass this sign I can't help but imagine a giant rabble of illiterate desciples of George Lucas, dressed as Jedis, enacting some "Battle for Tattoine" out in the desert until they run out of Solarcane or Mountain Dew.

If these are the highlights of driving across Nevada, just imagine what the rest of the state is like.