It was last week, and not just on Thursday, that I took out across Nevada and entered the Eureka "white hole" at a time when the road report said the road was open with no controls. The snow had come in so fast that highway signs saying "chains or snow tires required" had not been activated. The whiteout in Eureka, and across Diamond Valley toward Devils Gate and beyond, was not the worst whiteout I've driven in, but it certainly approached the worst in places.
When I left Eureka, where I had stopped for a short breather and to access the internet on my cell phone, the road report was already reporting chains and snow tires required over Bob Scott Summit. By the time I made it to Bob Scott, Austin Summit just beyond had socked in and was the worst part of my drive: whiteout, the road scraped by a lone snowplow only on the other side, and snow drifting into bumpy ridges on the unplowed side (my side).
I found when editing the whiteout photo above that I could actually make the conditions look much better than they really were with strong enhancement, so the photo is barely touched, just a slight change in color balance and the addition of a tad bit of contrast.
This section of Highway 8A, now S.R. 305, from Austin to Battle Mountain was damp but otherwise thankfully clear of falling or drifting snow.
I saw large flocks of small birds on the blacktop and in the flats right next to the road, especially along this entire section of old 8A, and also near Lone Mountain on Highway 50.
They would rise up as my truck approached, and I started randomly aiming the camera toward them, hoping for decent pictures. The photos were all cockeyed to begin with, then rotated toward horizontal during processing. I tried more than once to get pictures with the zoom set to 4x, hoping to get closeups of the birds, but all I got that way was a bunch of crooked sky pictures.
I must have driven through maybe 20 of these large flocks; I suppose I was lucky to have hit only one of them, but I really hate doing that.
Here's one of the birds close to the truck, nearly blending into the pavement. With MOH's help, I determined that these are most likely Horned Larks, possibly with some other hangers on like a few Longspurs or other related birds that typically hang together.
When I stopped at a rest area, I noticed that a strange phenomena had affected one of my tires: radiating masses of frozen slush or ice.
The shadows grew longer, the temperatures dropped into the teens, and I continued on toward my ever closer destination.