ON THE ROAD TO UFOVILLE

Internet UFO Group Media Archive

From:Bill.Ralls@f7.n1010.z9.FIDONET.ORG (Bill Ralls)
Title:ON THE ROAD TO UFOVILLE
Source:Dallas Morning News
Date:April 25, 1996


Along The Extraterrestrial Highway - Now that they have their own

highway, perhaps those E.T.s will feel more at home.

Maybe they're ready to chat, pose for pictures, reveal themselves to

someone with the ability to reach even the most skeptical Earthlings. What

a better place for all that than a major metropolitan newspaper?

So here I come fellas. Let's hit the road:

Mile 0: It's 107 smooth and lonely miles north of Las Vegas, up

Interstate 15 and U.S. 93, to the beginning of the E.T. Highway,

heretofore known as plain old Nevada 375.

I am a little behind schedule, having missed a turn. Didn't see any sign.

Yet I am farsighted and love to flaunt my sign-spotting powers. I never

miss road signs. How odd...Don't they want me here?

At the intersection is a ruined building, clearly abandoned long ago. Yet

a couple dozen cars are parked in the lot. How odd...actually, the local

guidebooks say that employees at the secret Air Force base meet their

shuttle bus here.

Mile 7: First signs of life - a white compact car going the other way.

It's a bright, clear day, yet the headlights are on. How odd...

The road is straight and flat, and the landscape is high desert: scrub

brush with no trees for miles, brownish mountains off in the distance.

A hospitable landing site, like the Sea of Tranquility where Apollo 11

set down.

Then again, why wouldn't an advanced civilization spot the amazing lights

of Las Vegas? And couldn't they figure out a way to make the slot machines

hit 7-7-7 every time?

Mile 15: There are many dirt roads leading from the highway, and here is

perhaps the most famous. Guidebooks say it goes to the secret Air Force

base and that security men in white Cherokees will arrest you if you get

too close. Nonetheless, it's popular for people who want to peek at secret

Air Force stuff or look for UFOs.

But no dirt road for me. They know I'm here. They'll find me. Besides,

it's a rented car.

Mile 17: Hey! There's a couple of big cows grazing just a couple of steps

from the road, with nobody tending them. All along the highway you can see

cattle, brown-and-white sentries dotting the landscape, pretending to mind

their own business.

It turns out this is open range where ranchers don't need to fence their

cattle in. Yet that seems too simple an explanation. Why do I feel as if

they're watching me?

While you're scoping out aliens, you'd better watch for cows who decide

to share the road. A couple of times a year, usually at night, cows and

cars collide, and nobody wins.

Mile 20: Ah, the famous Black Mailbox. A rancher gets his mail here, but

UFO buffs and tourist buses have made it a landmark to stop and search the

skies. Believers tell of many UFO sightings here, usually at night.

Skeptics point to the Air Force maneuvers and other natural explanations

for weird lights.

Mile 30: The last radio station I can pull in is testing the Emergency

Broadcast System. What do they know that I don't?

Mile 40: Approaching Rachel, the only town on the E.T. Highway, a fierce

dust storm kicks up. Tumbleweeds blow across the road, just like in the

movies. Don't they want me to stop here?

As the dust clears, I think I can make out a face of an alien by the

road. Finally!

Then the dust clears some more...and the face turns out to be painted on

the sign for the Little A'Le'Inn. The most popular item on the menu is the

$2.75 Alienburger. Does this have anything to do with those cows?

Mile 50: I cross from Lincoln County to Nye County. Another good spot on

the plateau for skywatching, but nothing yet. Clouds are gathering,

casting intriguing shadows on the plains before me. What are they trying

to tell me? What do they look like? Crop Circles? Religious icons?

Presidential candidates?

Mile 68: On either side of me is a gray mist descending from the clouds,

as if it's raining. But the sun shines on the road, and on me, and I steam

toward the end, cows watching me all the way.

Mile 99: As lonely as it begins, the E.T. Highway ends at the base of a

hill. You can turn left on U.S. 6 to Tonopah, right to Ely.

This abandoned place is called Warm Springs, for the water coming down

the hill in a cement channel. There are a few crumbling shacks, junked

cars and a cafe that is closed and shuttered.

Now that I've finished the highway, it starts to rain. Will there be no

sign, no revelation, no proof? But wait! There are no life forms here, but

there is a pay phone, and it works.

E.T. Highway...all alone...far from loved ones...phone booth...of course!

That's the message: P-H-O-N-E H-O-M-E. So I DO.