You never know what you’ll find in the desert. Monuments, rattlesnakes, thousands of hippies having a celebration, it’s an unusual place sparsely populated by fascinating people – and places. More than 40 years ago, car journalists found themselves out east of Barstow and stumbled upon heaven in the form of a driveway long enough to do 200 mph on. How’d it get there? Well, it’s all thanks to a woman called Mrs. Orcutt.
The story of Bonnie Orcutt involves some unfortunate circumstances. Born in Boone County, Indiana on Sept. 7, 1909, she married military veteran Kenneth Orcutt in 1948, but unfortunately wasn’t married for long. According to his obituary, Kenneth died in a plane crash over Lee, Iowa in 1953, and it seems that Bonnie set out for the desert not long after. She ended up settling on a plot of land in Newberry Springs, Calif., and all seemed relatively quiet until the Interstate highway system came along.


See, Mrs. Orcutt’s original property access was via Route 66, and Interstate 40 was set to run right across what would’ve effectively been her driveway, blocking her way to the outside world. This wouldn’t do, and as the Mojave Desert Heritage and Cultural Association reports, Bonnie was about to see that the government made things right.
The government offered to buy her out, but she refused. She was highly educated, and began a letter writing campaign to Lady Bird Johnson, President Lyndon Johnson, Gov. Edmund Brown, and others. In 1965 the CA Division of Highways allocated $100K and built Mrs. Orcutt a 4 mile driveway to the nearest road – Fort Cady Road.
Technically, a 4.1 mile driveway from her house to approximately the nearest off-ramp, her driveway has to be one of the longest in North America, or at least one with the longest arrow-straight section. An asphalt monument to sticking up for one’s self in the face of roadblocks, it remained fairly secluded until Car And Driver found it during the double-nickel era.

See, given the modest outputs of most Malaise-era cars, finding a space large enough to do top-speed testing on the fastest cars of the time would be tough. Most publicly rentable test tracks were simply too small, and you’d have to be crazy to bury the pedal in the carpet for miles on a public interstate. That’s where the wildly illegal plan of using what might be California’s longest driveway to conduct clandestine top speed tests was hatched, and tuning legend Gale Banks was whipping up just the machine to put the driveway through its paces—a turbocharged Pontiac Trans Am aiming for the 200 mph mark. While Car and Driver reported that the first few incredibly illegal attempts were met with mechanical failures and understandably unsympathetic police, things seemed to improve for the last two shots. As the magazine wrote:
A few weeks later, we returned and encountered a friendlier highway patrolman. After we gave him a high-speed ride in the Trans Am, he stood sentry to warn us of any approaching, less friendly officers. In that session, the engine seized a piston at 196 mph, tearing the block apart. As the oil spewed onto the red-hot turbos, observers reported a 50-foot-long fireball trailing the car. Smoke was pouring into the car, and it seemed like forever before we could bring it to a halt and then furiously pound away at the window to loosen the tape and break free.
Several months later, we were ready to run again. With a strong engine and no police on hand, we hit 204 mph into a stiff headwind. As we were slowing down, a resident of a house near the driveway emerged with a shotgun to chase us off. Our goal accomplished, we happily departed.
Just like that, Mrs. Orcutt’s driveway was catapulted into the automotive history books in June of 1984 through actions you definitely couldn’t get away with today. While it’s hard to imagine her reaction, Car and Driver reports that save for that shotgun-wielding neighbor and the rare highway patrol, nobody complained about continued top speed testing.
Sadly, Bonnie Orcutt’s obituary states that she passed away on Dec. 7, 1986. In the years after, her homestead and driveway slowly fell into disrepair, and while the magazine allegedly used the driveway into the ’90s, it eventually became too pockmarked, too potholed, too decayed to continue.

Today, the famous driveway is still hanging on, marked as a public road on Google Maps called Memorial Drive. The house is there too, although recent photos paint a picture of serious disrepair. Still, if you find yourself on Interstate 40 between Barstow and Ludlow, hop off at exit 23, take the first right north of the interstate, and visit America’s 200 mph driveway. You’ll be glad to have it in your memory bank.
Top graphic image: Google Maps screenshot
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The driveway article was a sidebar to the main article about the trans am. For me, a young motorhead, the thought of a Pontiac doing 1.0 g on the skid pad AND 200 mph was mind blowing. Turns out it was no easy task. I do miss the glory days of C/D. That was prime automotive gonzo journalism. No disrespect to the Autopian, times were different back then, young me getting my monthly magazines and going off grid for a few hours at a time.
Ever since the Car & Driver article revealing its existence this stretch has lived rent free in my head.
The southern stretch from the 4 way stop I grew up at was also about 4 uninterrupted miles with a single bend that didn’t trouble a Camry at triple digit speeds. Many a summer evening included cars suspiciously waiting with CB in hand for a couple minutes before a run was made.
That’s worth a road trip.
Very interesting Thomas. Thank you! 😀
Well written story but rotting in the desert is a misnomer as rotting refers to the consumption of material by fungus, something that is not available in the desert. I think the word you are looking for is decomposing? Maybe not but can not think of it
I think ‘mumification’ is probably more accurate in desert conditions, but it doesn’t carry quite the emotional connotation that ‘rotting’ does.
Mummification carries connotations of preservation. I’m leaning for dessicated. The oil evaporated and now it is turning back into gravel
Little known fact: The term “godforsaken” was coined by the first people to see this area. (OK, maybe not.)
I’ve driven through there a bunch of times and never realized what I was passing. Won’t miss it the next time.
If you look up “godforsaken” in the dictionary, you will see a photo of Needles or Blythe.
Fun fact; the dirt that was once in the Grand Canyon landed where Needles is.
Also (I think) Snoopy’s brother is from Needles
Needles often reported the hottest daytime temperatures of a populated place in the USA. Maybe it still does. Anyway, I used to tell my children what the temperature was in Brooklyn, where we lived, followed by the temperature in Needles for comparison There was some educational value, but I forget what. One day, it was hotter in Brooklyn than in Needles, and we went out for pizza to celebrate.
Definitely worth a Dubious Achievement pizza. (Hope that didn’t happen in July.)
Spike.
I learned about Mrs. Orcutt’s Driveway from the Car & Driver but the details got scrambled in my brain. Because Lyndon and Lady Bird were involved I spent decades thinking the road was in Texas. During that time I had driven past Mrs. Orcutt’s Driveway many times without knowing it. I’ll be going that way in a few days. I’ll need to at least salute as I pass by.
Why is it illegal if it’s on private property?
Maybe because they didn’t have the owners permission?
I think it was officially a state road, but it only led to one house
So, is this the area they tested Stubby Bob at?
We had something similar to this when I was in my teens. When I was a kid TX Hwy 87 went all the way from Port Arthur down along the coast to the Galveston Ferry on Bolivar. Over the years the hurricanes eroded the coast line and they would have to rebuild Hwy 87 a few dozen yards back behind the new coast line until eventually some time in the 80s they decided not to rebuild it anymore. If you look now Hwy 87 ends just a few miles SW of Port Arthur. Well at first all they did was put up a few road block signs at the end of the the bit of highway they were still maintaining but those were easy to drive around and the abandoned part of highway was still in good enough condition to drive on. We would drive around the barricades at night and go for highspeed runs. Eventually that bit of highway got too bad and the coast kept eroding and at this point it’s not passable at all with normal cars. I’ve heard they still drive from Bolivar to PA on the annual Jeep weekend but that’s the only way to drive it anymore.
https://maps.app.goo.gl/sLzr889uQqufhsXg8
Huh, I’ve heard of this before but didn’t realize it was in Newberry Springs.
I’ve driven back and forth from San Diego to Las Vegas many times, and Newberry Springs stands out because it’s one of the two places I’ve broken down. Back in circa 2002 I was driving my ’85 Ford LTD back from Vegas on I-40 when all of the warning lights lit up. When I pulled over I found that my alternator pulley and serpentine belt were missing. Had to make a call on the roadside assistance box and hours later I finally got picked up by a flatbed and towed to some tiny repair shop right there on that stretch of 66 shown on the map. Amazingly they had a new serpentine belt in the right size and just happened to have a junk ’80s Mustang sitting behind the shop that they were able to steal the alternator pulley and nut from. This adventure cost me like $400, but better than being stuck there for the night as I thought would be the case.
Odd timing, I just watched a video on this a few days ago, Not the absolute best YouTuber out there, but it wasn’t too painful to watch.
https://youtu.be/rl7eu-Xixac?si=Fbj4uY3wowA010dU
I love this Youtube channel. Lots of content on neat abandoned stuff around Southern California. I’ve hiked a couple of abandoned spots of highway after being inspired by these videos. Also randomly saw the host at REI here in San Diego a few months ago and gave him props for his videos.
Psssst! Look here
I’m missing something. If this is on private land and it is not a public road, what makes it wildly and incredibly illegal to run fast? Or is it on BLM land and not private property. If it’s on BLM, then it’s not really a driveway, it’s a public road to nowhere, no?
Pretty confident that it is actually a public road. I doubt she owned all the land the driveway was on.
Yeah, I think it was a public road, but just built to specifically serve her property, since no one else lived along the route
An easement perhaps?
Didn’t have owners permission
Import a Citroen with the hydro suspension and floor it 😀
I like the way you think. And as a bonus, unless it’s an SM, the top speed won’t even be all that fast, so how much trouble could you get in?
For a 2CV, you don’t even need the hydropneumatic suspension!
Citroen has made much faster cars with the hydro suspension, even as late as 2000 and you can finally import them over here!
For example, the Xantia V6 is fucking fast (while the Activa is the most famous, you didn’t have to get the rare Activa suspension in order to get the V6).
Fun story. Tales like this are the icing on the Autopian cake.
In an aside, I once sped from 0 to 165 mph in less than 900 feet. It was in an F-4 Phantom during a carrier launch. Heck of a speed run.
Rattlesnakes can be amazing pets.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/qE3ZR_SceWM
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/UY3pB5qdwok
Hopefully this driveway is still in decent enough shape. If I find myself out that way, I’m doing a top speed run!