Pine Nut Mountains Loop

The headframe at the old Buckeye Mine still stands against Nevada sky, a skeleton reminder that the Pine Nut Mountains once rang with the sound of hammers on steel. This 45-mile gravel loop winds through mining country that most people blow past on Highway 395, climbing from sagebrush flats to juniper ridges where prospectors scratched out silver and tungsten claims a century ago. The road gains 2,600 feet as it circles the range, topping out at 7,200 feet where the air gets thin and the views stretch from the Sierra Nevada to the Stillwater Range.

Any vehicle with decent clearance can handle this loop—stock pickups and crossovers run it regularly, though the washboards will rattle your teeth loose if you hit them wrong. The Bureau of Land Management maintains the main track, but side spurs to old mines and claims get rougher fast. Spring and fall offer the best conditions, avoiding summer heat that can crack radiator hoses and winter snows that close the high passes. Cell service drops to nothing once you leave Carson City’s orbit, and the nearest fuel sits 30 miles away in Yerington, so top off your tank before you start.

Dispersed camping spots dot the route wherever the road widens, particularly around the old Sunrise Mine workings and along Pine Grove Creek when it’s running. The ghost town of Pine Grove sits midway through the loop—more foundation stones than buildings now, but the cemetery tells stories of families who thought this country might make them rich. Water is scarce outside of seasonal creeks, so pack what you need for a night or two. The mining debris scattered along the route serves as a reminder to watch where you step and keep curious kids close.

What you get here is solitude and perspective, not technical challenges or Instagram moments. The Pine Nut Mountains Loop delivers Nevada at its most honest—empty country where the last residents left decades ago, taking their hopes with them. The views earn every mile of washboard, and the silence at night runs deeper than most people ever experience. It’s the kind of drive that reminds you why Nevada calls itself the Loneliest State, and why some of us consider that a selling point rather than a warning.