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are beautiful . For mile after mesmerizing mile , it was always the same , U . S . 50 always changing . Somehow , even on the days when there were clouds in abundance , rarely did I feel their soft white hand over me , giving me cover .
U . S . 50 crosses 17 mountain passes in Nevada ’ s almost 410 miles . Over and over , in the daily haze the miles of highway in front of you disappear into the far away horizon . But there was something new over the divide between Nevada and California — green ! Beyond busy South Lake Tahoe , California ’ s first hour was a beautiful twisting ride through conifers on the type of road every rider cherishes .
Enter California from almost anywhere and the ride immediately becomes downhill . The elevation from Lake Tahoe to Sacramento , a distance of just over 100 miles , drops more than 6,000 feet . That ’ s downhill ! After the heat of the previous thousand miles you feel transformed .
But the reality of California will soon smack you in the mouth . Eventually the fun two-lane highway becomes four . Then it becomes five and soon six lanes in each direction . Interstate 80 joins and speeds off toward San Francisco . My U . S . 50 simply disappeared . Not even a sign — nothing , it was gone .
Back in Fallon , not far from the California border I ’ d stopped for gas . A fellow at the next pump asked if I ’ d ridden all the way from Ohio . When I said yes , he asked what roads I ’ d taken . When I replied , “ Fifty , all the way ,” he responded in