A few years back, I experienced the “Loneliest Road in America” while driving from Colorado to a friend’s wedding in California.

The nickname refers to a section of Route 50 out west, where it undulates for hundreds of mind-numbing miles across arid mountain ranges and desert valleys. It’s especially bleak as it crosses Nevada. Desolate, barren, isolated — pick your adjective, they all apply to that vast landscape. I don’t think I saw five cars from sunup to sundown.

Fortunately, one of those cars was driven by an attractive woman who, like me, was heading west. She flashed me a sexy smile as she passed me in her BMW convertible. She had the top down, and the wind whipped her platinum tresses violently.

I was driving a two-seater sports car myself, but mine was an... Read More