On June 18th, 2025, Spike and I hit the road again—but this time, little one may have pushed the limits of his legendary roading days. We are hoping this is not his last road trip, but as his little bones are starting to wobble, Spikey may be turning in his travel ticket for a more relaxed lifestyle.
Nevertheless, this time we set out from Phoenix, Arizona, with Seattle, Washington, as our final stop. The plan? Two full days of zooming up the central western front. The reality? A sick pup, a queasy Grandpop, and a really close call on one of America’s most remote highways–HWY 50.
Buckle up.
—
🚙 Backseat View
This was the first trip where Spike didn’t ride shotgun! Since we had a guest—my father, who Spike knows as just “Grandpop”—which meant Spike had the backseat all to himself. However, the extra length did not translate to comfort. When we left, the temperature in Arizona was 113 degrees. Thus, by the time we hit the winding and rising slopes of Oregon, we had crossed nothing but heated desert roads. These two conditions left Spike and Grandpop displaying signs of greeness.
By the time we made it to Seattle, Grandpop ended up in the hospital with heart pains and Spike, well, he did what dogs do–curl up with sad doggy eyes and self-medicate overnight. The nice thing about Seattle was that the temperature was 50 degrees cooler than Arizona!
The design-engineer side of me suspected that the wonderfully aerodynamic shape of the mini-SUVs, that are shaped more like a roach on wheels, are not optimally designed for breathing.
Fact: Did you know that poor ventilation in cars can lead to heatstroke and even brain damage in pets left without proper circulation? Check it out: https://www.avma.org/resources/pet-owners/petcare/pets-vehicles
—
Seattle Surprises: Cats & Cousins
Our final stop was in Seattle, where Spike reunited with his cousin Gypsy, a fellow pup. But she came with some new siblings: cats. Now, Spike is a Greek-American road dog, and back in Greece, he made it clear—cats were not his thing. They got the bark treatment.
But this time? Spike shocked us all. He chilled with his new feline cousins like a total gentleman. Bravo, Spike. Character growth.
On our trip back, we decided to swap out.
The Jeep to the Rescue
For the trip home, I trusted our 8,000 mile vehicle trip: the Jeep Wrangler. Unlike the claustrophobic mini SUVs, Jeeps are tall, open-windowed, and equipped with rear seat air vents that actually work. Spike and Grandpop rode in comfort.
Unbeknownst to us, our adventure was just beginning…
—
Out of Gas!
While I was dozing in the passenger seat somewhere in rural Nevada, Grandpop had the wheel—and decided there was enough gas for us to drive for at least another 120-plus miles. When it was my turn to drive, I noticed we had only 41 miles left in the tank. The problem? The nearest town was 39 miles ahead and the last one was more than 50 miles behind us.
And the two-lane highway we were on? None other than the infamous U.S. Route 50—dubbed “America’s Loneliest Road” in a 1986 Life Magazine article. The article warned readers that the desolate stretch between Ely and Fernley, Nevada, was little more than tumbleweeds and sagebrush, and travelers should be prepared for the worst. It is still the same. However, we were lucky that since that time, a gas station was erected in the old mining town of Austin, Nevada. With just one mile to go, the Jeep Fuel Shut-Off Alert warned us to place the vehicle in park mode. As soon as we did, it shut down. Before us was an ominous winding road with nowhere to go except up.
Due to the temperature and Spike’s age, I had to make a choice: risk making him walk up the mountain and burning his paws or cracking the Jeep windows and putting a full bottle of water in his two bowls while leaving him in the shade. Both options spelled D-O-O-M with the only manipulative variable being time: How quickly could I get up the mountain with him or without him and return to base?
I chose the latter option. I hiked without Spike. Once at the gas station, I met two wonderful people.
—
We wouldn’t have made it without a stroke of luck and a bit of kindness. Two young women from Virginia spotted us at the top of the mountain and offered me a ride back down with the gas can to refuel the Jeep. Grandpop, being the stubborn person he is, tried, unsuccessfully, to walk up the hillside, but the elevation reached over 6,000 feet–which, after his heart scare, made going up the mountain off-limits to him by foot.
As the story goes: All’s well that ends well.
We were quite done though. On the way up the mountain, I spotted a strange structure, only to find out that the dilapidated structure was actually a castle built at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries: The Stokes Castle. Supposedly, it was built there (Austin, Nevada) by a wealthy person who wanted a summer “villa” of sorts. Early photos show that it actually looked like a livable location with fireplaces on each floor and balconies to see the vast surrounding lands in every direction.
Ironically, Spike got to meet a horse-loving couple who provided us with confirmation that there are still wild horse herds in Nevada near the lakes. (They were also the owners of the giant military truck called a 5-ton. This was a great treat for Grandpop, a former Green Beret.)
Spike did get to see the donkeys at a rest stop closer to Las Vegas. So, I think Spike had a full trip that was positive overall.
Coming Soon: Check out the photos on the Mike & Spike gallery—Spike’s got some new friends to show off!
—
Final Note: A Lucky Number, A Narrow Escape
Here’s a twist: the stretch of Hwy 50 we nearly ran dry on—from Fallon to Austin—is exactly 111 miles long. That’s my lucky number. And it truly lived up to its name.
So yes, we survived America’s Loneliest Road.
