Day 15, at the gravesite of John Snyder near Golconda, Nevada

September 22, 2026 — Elko to Rye Patch I began the day in Elko by attending to the practical necessities of a long road trip: washing the car, doing laundry at Jet Coin Laundry, buying fuel, and stopping at Walmart for supplies. Then Annie and I headed west on Interstate 80, continuing our attempt to follow the route of the Donner Party across Nevada. At Carlin, I tried to follow old U.S. 40 through Carlin Canyon. The road and tunnel arrangement proved confusing, and a dead end eventually forced me to turn around. From there I continued west toward Beowawe and left the interstate at Exit 261 in search of Gravelly Ford, one of the important California Trail crossings of the Humboldt River. That search became an adventure of its own. Incorrect coordinates initially led me to an empty location. I encountered railroad tracks, confusing dirt roads, and eventually a gated private road. Nearly an hour of precious daylight disappeared before corrected directions finally brought me into the historic Gravelly Ford area. I then continued through Golconda and followed State Route 789 and a dirt road toward Iron Point. There I reached the remote area associated with the death and burial of John Snyder—sometimes rendered Schneider—one of the most important historical objectives of this journey. The exact burial location may never be known with certainty, but simply reaching that lonely landscape and standing where the incident occurred was a major accomplishment. With daylight disappearing, I headed toward Rye Patch State Recreation Area. After dark, with virtually no signage to guide me, I became completely lost among the campground roads. Then an extraordinary stroke of luck occurred. Jim from Rye Patch happened to pass by in his Toyota Land Cruiser. He stopped, realized I needed help, and personally led Annie and me to one of the finest campsites in the entire park. We pulled into the campsite at 7:30, just as darkness settled over the landscape. After a day filled with wrong turns, bad coordinates, railroad tracks, dirt roads, historical discoveries, and rapidly fading daylight, everything somehow came together at exactly the right moment. I ended the day at a magnificent campsite, closer to tomorrow’s destination, and profoundly grateful for Jim’s perfectly timed appearance. Sent from my iPhone