It’s always great when you find a town you really like, especially when you’re not expecting one. I drove into Scipio, thinking it was nothing more than a junction with Interstate 15. Instead, I found a charming little farming town, and a hundred different places to take a picture.
I needed to pass through quickly, in order to stay on my schedule, but I ended up spending, perhaps, an hour here.
On the south end of town (it’s hard to think of a town so small having “ends”), I found some old homes, that look like they were built by Scipio’s original settlers. A block off the main road…
… a dirt road sliced through the middle of a field of some sort. Snow was falling lightly, and had already dusted the fence and the grass.
An old tractor sat quietly nearby, with hundreds of bails of hay stacked up behind it.
After returning back to the highway…
,,, I drove on into town, to find ghost signs…
… and one store that’s still alive. Scipio Mercantile is now an antique store. Inside, Gary the shopkeeper and I chatted about the long drive that awaited between here and Ely, Nevada — my destination for the night.
There’s another great ghost sign on the side of the Scipio Mercantile building.
Just down the street, an impressive old barn sits behind an old gate…
… and across the street, a couple of old Sinclair gas pumps are still standing next to a garage. On one of them, the last sale registered was still displayed: $2.06.
Scipio was nice, but I still needed to cover a lot more ground. After a short jaunt on Interstate 15 southbound (where I drove by the same mountains as I had passed on the drive up from Salina–albeit on the other side), US 50 exited the highway, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
Even though there was still one town to go before total desolation, Highway 50 was already starting to earn its title of “Loneliest Road in America”. I passed miles of empty fields, took a few abrupt and seemingly unnecessary turns, and passed just one photo-worthy landmark: this tiny old house.
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