This was my first visit back to Area-51 since my initial visit in August of 2003, where we were harassed for a few minutes by choppers, after having drove past the fence with the orange warning markers, off of Rt 93.
This time I was destined to see a cammo-dude, or something other than sand and stones. After pulling over on Route 375, just about 1/2 mile shy of the mouth to turn on Groom Lake Road, my girlfriend Khalisa, and I observed a small white vehicle (small car) zipping down Groom Lake Road toward the base. Noticing the speed of the car, we decided to see what was going on, and see if we could just see something...anything....
Being an Area-51 enthusiast since my early teenage years, naturally the adrenaline rush settled in, just being on Groom Lake Road. With Khalisa driving, my only weapon of choice was a pair of binoculars. For what seemed like an eternity, we drove cautiously down the road, keeping constant watch for any jeep cherokees, or chevy pickups - AND ESPECIALLY any choppers overhead.
Being very unprepared, i had no camera to preserve any worthwhile photos, should the opportunity arrise. The sign displaying the 45 MPH speed limit passed us by, as my binoculars were glued to my face. Skies were clear, no sonic booms overhead, and no Cammo Dudes to be seen. We eventually neared the 35 MPH sign, and slowed to accommodate a smoother view into the distance through the binoculars.
Getting more and more adrenalized with every foot we proceeded, we came to a portion of the road, where there were several small hills and inclines to pass over, and then the 25 MPH sign along with my scream to STOP! STOP!. Hitting the brakes and stopping in a plume of dust, there it was. Off to our right side, about a 1/2 mile up the road on a small butte, sit a late model green chevy pickup. For me just seeing the truck sitting there, was exciting intimidation.
After pulling my binoculars back to my eyes, I noticed at least one visible occupant in the truck. It wasnt until then, that I realized how close to the Groom Lake border of the base. Pulling the binoculars away from my eyes, with the naked eye, I could see several of the famous tripod cameras, positioned in various areas of the plateu directly in front of us. The road came to hill, where it dipped down to a sharp curve. On the ground immediately following that steep curve (that would have led us right to where the Cammos were keeping post), there were several of the orange warning markers that crossed over the road. We were right at the border of the base! Amazed that we were as close to the border of the base as we suddenly were, we inched closer, hoping not to spook the Cammos parked on a nearby butte. Looking through the binoculars, and not taking my eye off that truck that could come at me at anytime it wished, it became apparent to me that we were noticed. Stopping immediately, as it became obvious that they knew we were there, it became alot of me looking at them as they looked at me, almost daring me to cross that line. We did inch closer and closer, as I took up perch sitting on the passenger side door of the little Chevy Cobalt.
We edged towards the portion of the road where the road dipped down into the winding curve leading the Cammo's present position, disappearing from their view for a few moments behind the butte. In the event that we provoked some of response, I had Khalisa quickly back up the car, back into the view of Cammo's so that they could see us still there. Having become at least an annoyance or maybe a cause of concern, both of the Cammo Dudes stepped out of the truck, and stood by their open doors, brazenly staring at us and our little white Cobalt. There they were, decked out in their traditional desert fatigues and seemingly a little bit annoyed at our persistant sitting there, looking around the border area, and a couple waves from the both of us to them.
They both stood by the hood of the truck, with one elbow resting on the hood, staring right at us. The dare was just eminating from them, across to us over the approximate 1/8 mile that separated our vehicles. The driver was a caucasian male of a burly build, and his cohort appeared to have a darker tan, possibly of Mexican/Hispanic descent, bearing a lighter build than the other. After staring back and forth, and wondering whether or not I should inch closer, we decided not to tempt fate, and inch away from the area. In all of the excitement, I of course, could not help cussing about not having a camera.
Next year, I'll be more prepared, and plans are to camp out around the Tikaboo Peak area for a couple nights, and see some of the nighttime activities..
After having left the Groom Lake Road area, we continued our trip North on Route 93, and a few miles up the road, Observed a large white F350 Utility trucks barreling down one of the access roads leaving the base. Wondering where it was from, we sped up alongside the truck and observed that it was from the Lincoln County Power Authority. Hmmmm....
New York State