Like art?

As fuel for gas guzzlers gets more expensive (and becomes harder to find), I’m intrigued by an artist collection in Nevada that turns old cars into beauty. This is trippy.
- Cris

International Car Forest of the Last Church

The Henge of the High Desert

Driving south on Nevada’s Highway 95, the landscape is a relentless stretch of sagebrush and heat haze until you reach the outskirts of Goldfield. There, sprouting from the cracked earth like a mechanical orchard, are over 40 cars, trucks, and full-sized buses. They aren't parked; they are planted.

My reaction was super classy “Huh? What happened there?”

This is the "Car Forest," a massive, open-air installation where vehicles are buried nose-first at impossible angles or balanced precariously on top of one another. Unlike the famous Cadillac Ranch in Texas, which sits neatly in a row, the Car Forest is chaotic. It feels like a giant child dropped their toy collection into the sand and walked away.

It’s surprising to find such art here - this is a really conservative area that I would not have associated with this type of art. It’s a nice surprise. This is different from a junk yard. Please don’t scavenge for used parts - you might knock over one of the vehicles.

Going Somewhere? Protect Your Trip (and Your Sanity)

The forest is the result of a decade-long collaboration between two men with vastly different motives. Mark Rippie, a local resident with 80 acres of land and a massive collection of junkers, wanted to break the Guinness World Record for the most upright cars. Chad Sorg, a Reno artist, saw the potential for a psychedelic canvas. Together, using a backhoe and a total disregard for traditional aesthetics, they created a "church" that eschews walls and pews for rusted steel and spray paint.

The scale and silence of the Car Forest grabs your attention. In the middle of the desert, you’ll find a 10-ton school bus standing vertically, its yellow paint peeling under murals of skulls, political caricatures, and celestial beings. Because there are no fences, no tickets, and no gift shops, the experience is both lonely and really personal. You are free to climb through the wreckage, walk under a leaning limo, or witness the desert wind whistle through shattered windshields.

This is not Disneyland. Safety is not their #1 priority and they expect you to act like responsible adults and not hurt yourself. If you do, there is probably a first aid kit around somewhere. Probably.

The partnership behind the forest eventually dissolved in a legendary falling out at a party, leaving the installation to the elements. Today, it stands as a monument to "outsider art"—a place where the discarded machines of the 20th century have been given a bizarre, upright immortality. It is eerie, beautiful, and utterly defiant of the "standard" vacation.

In a time when fuel for cars is becoming more precious by the day, people stop and think about what we leave behind. How will old cars ever be repurposed or recycled? Who will do it? When? These cars were exciting treasures for the people who bought them, and now they rust in the desert. Makes you want to keep your car running for a few more years before replacing it.

Hope you have fuel for your car to go out and see weird things.

See you next Wednesday.

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