America's Best Idea

Great Basin National Park

I never expected one of the quietest, most remote parks in the country to leave such a big impression, but that's exactly what Great Basin did. As National Park #52 on my journey, it caught me off guard in the best possible way. Nestled in the tiny town of Baker, Nevada, hours from the nearest city and far from any crowds, it felt like stepping into a completely different world - one where time slows down, the stars put on a show, and ancient trees whisper stories older than civilization. But before we disappeared into that peaceful high desert wilderness, we made one very important stop: breakfast in Las Vegas.

Before doing our food shopping, I randomly Googled where to have breakfast in the city. I always look for the spot with the most and best reviews, which led us to the Omelet House, the second-oldest restaurant in Las Vegas. With over 50 omelet options, it was hard to choose, but I went with the Rio Grande Surfer - chorizo, onion, cheddar cheese, and topped with fresh guacamole. It ended up being the best omelet I've ever had. So flavorful and satisfying, it kicked off our road trip on the perfect note.

Right after breakfast, we hit the road toward Baker. There wasn't a whole lot going on along the way, just a handful of small towns where we stopped to fill up with gas and grab a cold drink. Part of the drive took us along a stretch of US Route 50, famously known as The Loneliest Road in America. It definitely lived up to its name. Long, empty stretches of highway with hardly another car in sight made it feel like we had the road all to ourselves. There's something about that kind of space and stillness that gets you into the right mindset for a trip like this.

We stayed just outside the park at the Stargazer Inn in one of their newly built cabins, Cabin #6. It was perfect for what we needed. Inside, we had a little kitchenette with a fridge, freezer, two-burner stove, and all the basics for cooking simple meals. Outside, there was a picnic table and a peaceful courtyard filled with Adirondack chairs, cornhole, and tons of hummingbirds flying around. I especially loved the bubble bottles scattered on the ground with different messages on each one. The bottle I picked up said, "Happiness is a world filled with bubbles." It was such a fun and thoughtful touch. In a place so quiet and remote, it was a sweet reminder that even the smallest things - like blowing bubbles into the desert air - can spark joy, no matter what age. The whole vibe was quiet, cozy, and calm.

That night, we went to bed early after a long travel day, but we set an alarm for the middle of the night to catch a rare double meteor shower. On July 29 to 30, the Southern Delta Aquariids and Alpha Capricornids lit up the sky. I've never seen anything like it. With Great Basin being part of a designated dark sky reserve, the stars were incredibly clear and bright. We could see the Milky Way stretched above us, with shooting stars streaking across the sky nonstop. It was just the two of us, sitting on a picnic bench under the sky. It was surreal - like the whole universe was putting on a show just for us.

We got back to the cabin around 4:30 in the morning and laid down to sleep for a little while before starting our day. Later that morning, we hiked the Alpine Lakes Loop and the Bristlecone Pine Trail, where we saw the oldest living trees in the world and Nevada's last remaining glacier. The trail passed by both Stella Lake and Teresa Lake. Stella was wide, calm, and open to the sky, while Teresa was smaller and tucked into a quiet grove, almost like a secret spot.

The bristlecone pines along the trail looked like something from a storybook - gnarled, twisted trunks with bark in shades of soft gray, faded brown, and streaks of burnt sienna. That color, burnt sienna, was something I first learned about from watching Bob Ross. It's a rich, earthy reddish-brown that adds warmth and life to his landscapes. I couldn't help but imagine him here, painting these happy little trees with his gentle brushstrokes, bringing their rugged beauty to life.

These trees have stood here for thousands of years, surviving extreme winds, snow, and intense sun. Interestingly, while these are among the oldest living trees on Earth, the single oldest bristlecone pine ever dated is in California's White Mountains. Still, walking through that grove felt like stepping into ancient time. Each tree had a personality - some leaning, some spiraling, all weathered yet still standing.